Tasteful Darkness

Chapter 23

Balendin - Now

Cleansing myself of bad habits has always seemed like an unnecessary thing. I only have so much time in the Overworld, and I'll be damned if I spend any of it trying to make myself a "better person."

Which is precisely why I don't feel all that guilty as I pour rum down my throat like it's water and I'm dying of thirst.

The tavern is fairly crowded and no one pays me any mind. I've missed the feeling of blending in and not having anyone look for me—really look for me. Though deep down there must be something that wants me to be seen because when I walked in the bar, I became Vincent once again.

I drum my fingers on my thigh and look out towards everyone else, though the sight of it is already blurred. I shake my head, trying to clear my vision. When I do, I come to realize there are two people straddling beside me, desperately clawing at each other. I roll my eyes and force myself onto my feet. The alcohol in my system nearly causes me to fall, and I have to temporarily relieve its effects.

It works for a moment and I make my way towards the other side of the tavern. It's a treacherous journey considering the sheer size of this place. I have been here several times before over the years, and it's only grown in size and popularity with time.

"Another?" the barman asks me as I slide onto a stool beside the bar.

I hesitate, rubbing my fingers along the glass. "What would you do if you had seven days to live?" I ask, meeting the man's eyes.

I thought he would laugh at me, but he thinks for a moment as he wipes the countertop.

"Spend time with those I care about," he says slowly. "Try to leave with no loose ends." He studies me for a moment. "Why, are you a dying man?"

"One could call me that," I say, pushing the glass towards him. "Others simply might say my time on this earth is up."

The barman eyes me. "Does anyone know you're here?"

I shake my head. "Even if they did, I doubt—"

"Vincent?"

Chills rip up my body so violently I jerk towards the voice. Two comforting eyes bore into mine.

I slump in my chair. "Peter."

The barman, his question clearly answered, goes back to his duties.

Peter pushes his way through the drunk crowds until he is standing directly in front of me. "Why did I figure I would find you here?"

"It's just a lucky coincidence," I say. "Care for a drink?"

"No," he says. "And you look like you've had quite enough."

I roll my eyes. "As officious as always."

"I'm starting to wish I didn't run into you as often."

Yesterday was an accident, I assure you.

"The feeling is mutual." I turn on my stool and look away from him. "If not to look for me, why would you come to a tavern?"

"I am looking for a new place to work."

I lean my head on my hands. "I thought you had one at the tavern that burned down."

"The tavern they are saying I burned down."

"Oh they are?"

"Not directly, but I doubt I will have a job there anymore."

I don't respond and let out a deep sigh. "I am afraid I cannot help you there."