Helluva Boss - After the Party

A taste of oblivion

Blitz looked around the bar again, noting the patrons who were half-slumped over their tables, looking like they were asleep. One of them was staying upright, barely, lazily flicking through his phone while nursing a drink similar to the one the bartender had just placed in front of him.

"Huh, figures people in the Sloth Ring would go to a bar to sleep," Blitz thought to himself as he fiddled with the drink in his hands. The bartender beamed at him, waiting for him to sample the liquid. Blitz had a sip. It was icy cold, numbing his throat as it went down. It felt groggy, like there were too many particles in it.
"Yeuch." he said placing the drink down on the table again. "Not the best thing I've ever tasted."

"Well then" said the bartender. "Good thing it's on the house. Blitz shrugged as he had another sip of the coarse, cold liquid.

"Well, it's not the worst thing I've put in my body today so as long as its free, bottoms up." This made the bartender chuckle, who began pouring another glass of the strange, glowing concoction. He withheld from handing it over to Blitz, offering a statement or rather a question.

"You look like you've got the world on your shoulders, sir" he continued in a kind of drawl. "What's weighing you down? Bad memories?" Blitz gave a sarcastic chortle.

"Pfft, is this the part where I tell you all my woes and by the end of it I'll feel *so* much better having confided in the grand wisdom of a bartender." Blitz wasn't hiding his mockery. Weren't there a lot of movies and stories that were just like that? The bartender didn't seem taken aback but rather he slid the fresh drink over to Blitz.
"

Sir, we're all friends here..." the bartender said almost purring. " No need for that sort of nonsense here. But yes, to answer your question, you'd be surprised how often I see people's moods improved once they've unburdened themselves of their... woes." Blitz eyed the bartender and sighed, rolling his eyes as if to say 'whatever'. Blitz took a few breaths before speaking again.
"All right then, try this on for size 'oh wise bartender'." Blitz shot down the glowing concoction-- Lethe, the bartender had called it-- before continuing.
"My life's a joke. Every time it stabilizes and it looks like things are going to be just right for a time, without any nonsense or drama or hardship or any of that crap, then it goes to pieces." The bartender, to his credit waited patiently, drinking the words up.
"Every time I get .... close... or someone gets close to me, it's like a switch goes off in my head and I push back... hard. In the worst way imaginable." Blitz said bitterly, staring at his now empty glass.
The bartender licked his lips. "Close, sir?" he asked. "Do you mean...?"

"Yeah, I mean love!" Blitz shot in angrily, not noticing how the bartenders eyes widened in interest.

"Ah... yes. Love. There's a catalyst for some bad memories if ever I've seen one, sir." He poured yet another glass for Blitz. "Why do you think you act out in such a way, sir?" Blitz stared angrily at his faded reflection in the refilled glass.

"I know exactly why I'm like this. But it doesn't matter. I can't fix that. My past is broken. All I know is... is that I'm tired of hurting people. " Blitz grabbed the fresh glass of the oddly soothing liquid. "You know, there's a party held every year dedicated to hating by all the people I've left scarred, can you imagine that? There's a lot of them... a lot! And I went to it recently to try to patch things up my... uh... ."

"Fascinating, sir. We can probably do without that memory, can't we?" The odd statement drew Blitz out of his rambling.

"Huh? What was that?" Blitz asked.

"Nothing, sir. Now please, go on. Tell me more.. you went there to patch things up with your what...? The question gave Blitz pause. What *had* they been?