Of moonshine and memories | BoyXBoy

Chapter one

Saying I was nervous to meet Lucian at the old bar after all these years would be an understatement.

As I stood outside, I couldn't shake the nagging doubt in my mind. Maybe it was a bad idea to walk in. I had heard whispers about this place. Rumors of Lucian owning it now, but I wasn't sure what to expect. The memories of our last encounter felt heavy, a weight I wasn't sure I was ready to bear again.

Still, curiosity and a sense of nostalgia pushed me forward, overriding my reservations. I took a deep breath and stepped inside, the door creaking slightly as it swung open. The dim light and familiar scent of aged wood and spilled drinks washed over me.
And there he was, Lucian, his presence both comforting and disorienting.
But it wasn't just his familiarity that caught me off guard. It was the way he had changed.

His bleached, almost platinum blonde hair was now a dirty blonde, cropped into a buzzcut no longer than half an inch. Even his usual flashy, loud attitude had seemingly disappeared, leaving behind someone almost unrecognizable.

Quietly, I approached him and sat down next to him, while I continued to muster him cautiously.
"You done staring?" He remarked, raising a glass of whiskey to his lips and downing it in one swift motion.
His voice was a lot rougher than I remembered.

I blinked, shaking off his comment and trying to find the right words to say. "I wasn't...staring." I muttered, though we both knew that was a lie.

Lucian scoffed, setting the empty glass down with a soft clinking sound. "Right. Just like you weren't staring back then either, huh?" His gaze was fixed on the shelf of liquor in front of us, avoiding mine.

With a sigh, Lucian reached over the counter, grabbing a bottle of liquor from the other side. As he did, the dim bar lights caught on his bartender name tag, the metallic letters reflecting dully in the empty room.
He didn't pour the liquid into his glass this time and instead took a big sip straight from the bottle.

I watched him for a moment, unsure of what to say, before I finally asked. "How are you... holding up?"

Lucian let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "I'm drinking this shit straight from the bottle." He muttered, taking another swig. "I think that answers your question."

I stared at him, disbelief creeping into my voice. "You're drinking...on the job?"

Lucian shrugged, unfazed. "Perks of owning the place."

"You're still reckless." I said, unable to hide my frustration. "You own this damn place and yet you're doing this to yourself?" I couldn't keep the disappointment out of my voice. "Lucian, you look like you've been living off whisky and regret."

He scoffed again, taking another sip, his hands rather steady but his voice starting to sound more and more slurred. "Guess you wouldn't know much about regrets, huh?"

I winced at the jab, but it wasn't like I hadn't expected it. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Lucian tilted his head, finally turning to face me. His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles etched beneath them, like they hadn't seen an ounce of sleep for days. "You walked away. No goodbyes, no second chances. You just left. How nice that must've been. Cutting ties before things got messy."

I felt my chest tighten. The guilt, the shame from back then. It all came rushing back. "I left because you were already a mess. You were reckless, self-destructive. I couldn't keep watching you spiral."

He let out a bitter laugh, tossing back his drink with too much force. "And look at me now. Still fucking spiraling. Guess you made the right choice."

"You think I wanted to?" I snapped, feeling my temper flare. "You were burning yourself out, almost like you had a death wish. I couldn't fix that."