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Chapter 1, Part 3

(!⚠️WARNING⚠️!: Contains Alcohol, Bruises, Violence, Blood, Self-Violence, Gore (?))
[Correct me if I missed something!]
————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— Stumbling away from the bar he fell asleep in last night, Jack found himself a bit hungover. With a mind-splitting headache, he staggered over to the diner at the blurry sight of Lavrentie on the patio. He sniffles, his nose hurting from slipping and hitting his nose on the corner of the counter. He'd always been a bit clumsy and being drunk just made his clumsiness worse. Once reaching Lavrentie, he waves with less enthusiasm than usual.
"Man, what happened to you? You look... a little beaten up, dude." Lavrentie says, chuckling a bit to himself.
"You know what happened..." Jack said, groaning after he spoke. "...you were there..." he says, rolling his eyes.
"Didn't stay out long. Unlike you, I gotta work." Lavrentie responded with before poking Jack on the forehead.
Jack wanted to argue but Lavrentie really wasn't wrong. Jack doesn't work. Hasn't been employed for a while. Lavrentie's been working on his own business so Jack really hasn't been all that worried about getting a job. Lavrentie said he was fine with it as long Jack provided dinner and all that so he took that offer instantly. Jack loved to cook, it was one of his many passions. Although he had many more than that, cooking stuck out to him the most. But Lavrentie? Lavrentie doesn't really care all that much about cooking or food. He has such bad taste buds, Jack says that Lavrentie probably couldn't tell the difference between a literal hunk of rotting food and a 5-star meal.
"Speaking about work, how's your employee doing..?" Jack asked, in a slightly softer voice.
"Which one?".
"You know the one. Anti." Jack whispered.
Lavrentie immediately huffed and rolled his eyes.
"We dealt with him. We won't have to worry 'bout him anymore."
Laughter followed after but Jack didn't laugh along. He just stayed silent for a moment.
"Anyways, what do you wanna talk about?" asked Jack while he rubbed his eye.
"Well, while I was at the bar with you, I realized that you didn't have your jacket anymore and since I thought it'd be the perfect time, I couldn't hold onto this gift anymore." Lavrentie said. He then pulls a jacket out resembling his own. Jack gasps in both astonishment in how beautiful it was but also how stupid he was. Just because he said once that he loves Lav's jacket didn't mean that he wanted one just like it. You can admire things without wanting them. Jack pushed the jacket back into Lav's arms.
"Noooo... no, I- I can't take that..." Jack responded, hoping Lavrentie would just leave it at that.
"Nah, I want you to have it. We can be maaaattcchiinggg!" Lavrentie says in a sing-songy voice.
Jack rolls his eyes and smiles. Yea, he doesn't really want the jacket but thinking about him and Lavrentie matching almost made him cackle. He then snatches the jacket from Lavrentie's grasp and chuckles.
"Fineee, fineeee, I'll take it." Jack says.
Jack slips the jacket on. It's okay. It's not really comfortable but it's brand new so that was kind of expected. After all, once he wears the jacket more, it'll become more fit to him.
"Wellll? How is it?"
"I love it."
"Yes, I knew you would!!! Okay, let's go home now."
Jack and Lav walked home without a care in the world. But Jack knew something was off. The time... he had lost track of time. What time was it..?

Dragging himself across the pavement, he winced and grunted as blood spilled into a trail similar to the line of slime a snail leaves behind. On nothing but his hands, he scrapped himself all the way into the diner kitchen, which was no longer full of people. It must have closed up 15 minutes ago or so. Coughing up a bit of blood as he held the bullet wound at his stomach despite having about 3 or 4 of them total, he then found himself near the cabinets closest to the tile after heaving himself around on one arm. Finding random chemicals, he digs farther behind them. Searching for something. Something has to help him. After investigating far enough in the back, he finds a bottle half full of an odd red liquid. Sure, it could be anything but hey, it'll either heal his wounds or kill him faster and either result helps him. Chugging the liquid, he immediately feels ill. Laying himself softly onto the tile, he thinks "Well, that was stupid. Really stupid. I'm going to just lay here 'till I die now.". Shutting his eyes, he waits for death to arrive. And yet it does not. He opens his eyes and finally comes to the realization that he is not dead nor dying. Picking himself up from the ground, he finds himself in perfect health again!... well, he's still got some back pain but beggars can't be choosers! He then dusted himself off but felt something odd. He checked himself as though he worked for an airport and gasped. His wallet chain. Damn it, his wallet chain! He glanced around on the ground near him in a frantic panic. His business partner gave him that their first Christmas together and god, who knows when he'll forgive himself if he's truly lost that gift forever. But suddenly, he hears the smallest sound of metal being dragged across tile behind him that make him lift his head up and turn slowly to see a
person in a red cap and a brown jacket,
sitting in a booth,
holding his wallet chain.
As though he was as fast as lightning, he springs himself over the counter and bolts towards him.