FO4 | Book 0: The Diaries of Anarchy ✔️

September 15, 2257

Emily ran the brush roughly through my long brown hair.

"Ow!"

"Beauty is pain, John. Hold still and stop squirming."

I had a shower, and Emily insisted on putting my clean hair up in a ponytail before I left the house.

"Okay, now turn and face me."

I turned around and stood there feelin' like I had gotten a facelift. If the ponytail was any tighter, my eyebrows woulda been pulled up to my hairline.

"Oh, you look awesome! Kind of colonial, actually. You're going to be beating the ladies off of you."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not that interested in relationships."

"You need a girlfriend, John. All you do is work, do chems, and mope around the house."

I pointed a finger at her. "Hey, I'm not the one that has been engaged for almost two years. When are you and Guy supposed to be gettin' hitched, anyway?"

She looked down at her feet. "Well... I'm not sure."

"Has he even talked about it?"

"Oh, yeah, he's talked about it. It's me that keeps putting it off," she admitted. "I... don't know. I've been feeling... You know what? It doesn't matter. You should go out and have fun."

"I'm just goin' to the bar. It's nowhere special. I've been there plenty o' times."

"Oh, John, just shut up and meet people. Mingle. Remember, feign confidence if you have to. Just have fun. I'm tired of seeing you melted into the couch."

Just then, Guy opened the door and walked in, covered in grease as usual. He took one look at me, gave me a nod, and walked to the bathroom to wash up.

Things had gotten awkward between my brother and I. Ever since he found out I was hooked on Buffout, he acted distant. We didn't talk much. Emily had become our go-between. The house was filled with tension, and it was gettin' suffocating.

"Alright, I'm going. Tell Asshat I said I'll be back sometime tonight."

She shook her head. "I'm not telling him anything. I'm tired of being your messenger. Tell him yourself."

"It ain't worth all that. I doubt he cares, anyway." I waved a hand and walked out the door, overcoat in hand.

The September air was starting to get chilly. I shrugged on my coat and made my way to the Dugout. I stopped halfway there and decided I'd go to the Colonial Taphouse instead.

Because why not? I had the money to afford whatever swill they were selling. I was just as good as the rest of those upper stands snobs.

The Mr. Handy robot tried to stop me before I got to the door, though.

"Are you lost, sir?"

"Nope. I'm right where I wanna be. Thanks for askin'."

"It's just that you seem lost. Are you searching for the Dugout Inn, perhaps? I hear they have... affordable service."

"I already told ya, bot. I'm drinkin' here at the Taphouse."

"Of course, sir. I live to serve, even those not worth serving... Do let me know if you need any assistance."

The robot miffed me a little bit, but I attempted to swallow down my sour mood. No bucket of bolts was ruining my day.

The well-dressed patrons inside looked at me like I was lost, too, but I did like Emily taught me and faked it. I puffed my chest, stood straight, and waltzed my way up to the bar. I could feel my face getting red as all eyes were on me, but I just kept walking, kept pretending I wasn't embarrassed. I had a seat and looked at the shelves behind the c.ounter

"Can I help you?" asked the bartender. He was young and wore a fedora and a white button-up.

"Yeah, a bourbon if you don't mind."

He took a drinking glass from below the bar and the bottle of bourbon from the middle shelf and poured my drink. "That'll be twenty-five caps."

I bit my tongue. I couldn't tell if that was the real price or if this guy was just fucking with me. I took twenty-five caps out of my pocket and laid them on the counter. I looked him dead in the eye as I took that first sip, makin' sure he knew he couldn't scare me off that easily.

He scooped up the caps. "Thanks. I've never seen you around here. You got a name?" His voice was cool and smooth; it reminded me of a radio host.

"John. John McDonough. A pleasure."

"Pleasure's mine," he said, reaching across the bar for a handshake.

I obliged.

"Name's Henry Cooke. This here's my establishment. Or, I should say, it's my father's establishment, but he's never around to run the place."

"Deadbeat dad?" I asked without thinkin'.

"You have no idea."

"Heh. Actually, I know how you feel."

He shrugged. "What can you do, huh? Anyway, if you need anything else, you let me know." He walked to the other end of the bar where two patrons awaited service.

I sipped the bourbon, just enjoying my time alone, as I often did. I felt the most at home in the silence of my own thoughts.

Someone sat down in the seat beside me. My gaze shifted from the bartop to the shapely legs of a woman in a short blue dress and heels. My eyes wandered up her body until I met her face. Her brown hair was long, straight, and shiny. She had a rosy complexion and silver hoops for earrings. She looked a few years older than me.

She glanced at me through thick eyelashes and smirked.

I quickly turned away and took another drink.

"What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?" she asked.

My ears started burning. Confidence, confidence. "Uh, ain't that supposed to be my line?" I muttered. "Er, not that you're a guy. I mean --" I quickly came down with a case of Foot In Mouth.

She laughed. That's good. ffffffff"Are you in need of a drink?"

"I was thinking about it. Why? Are you going to buy me one?" When she gave me her full attention, I noticed a scar across her face on the right side. When she propped herself up on the bar, I saw track marks on her arm.

"Of course," I answered, averting my eyes from her arm. "Hey, Henry. Tequila for the lady, here."

"You got it."

"Ooh, fancy," she said. "You must have quite the wallet."

"I'm a caravan bodyguard. The pay is okay. I'll actually be... heading out in the morning." I pressed my luck and looked her up and down. "I could use the company before I go."

She chuckled and took her drink from Henry. "We'll see what happens... You keep these drinks coming, and I might be inclined to."

"What's your name?"

"Vivienne. You?"

"John. Beautiful name, Vivienne."

"Well, aren't you sweet?"

____________________

After a few more drinks, Vivienne took me by the hand and led me outside. She started plantin' kisses on me outside the door to the bar, pressing me up against the side of the building.

I didn't know what I was doin'. First, my hands were on her waist, then on her arms, then in her hair. I had never kissed a woman before, so my lips were all over the place. I attempted to mimic what she was doing, like a mirror. My dick was rock-solid, and the tension was startin' to kill me.

She took me back to her place where we started strippin' each other there in her living room.

"How's your pull-out game?" she asked, breathless.

"M-my what?"