Cyberpunk 2077: You Shall Never Have To Forgive Me Again

Ch. 5 She Keeps Me Up

Panam stared at V's contact, the light of the screen bathing her face in faint blues. Seeing her name made Panam's blood boil, made her throw back the shot in her hand. The burn down her throat was a salve to her raging emotions, a quick distraction, but was sadly also quick to fade away. Panam felt a rumbling in her chest that wouldn't go away, almost becoming as constant as her anger these days. Her life was such a fucking mess.

She tsked and shoved her agent into her back pocket. She rolled the glass in her hand and stared at all the lights from above bouncing off of it. Her third shot yet it didn't help. She still felt like total shit. Panam blamed the alcohol, shit must be weak.

But she knew she couldn't blame it on that. It was the Afterlife, after all. Rogue wouldn't let that slide, being the best fixer in charge of the most popular bar in Night City, she had a reputation to uphold. And Claire was a hell of a bartender who also had some pride. Last time someone accused the place of skimping out on the alcohol they were found dead in some abandoned hotel in Pacifica soon after. As terrible as Panam's life had gotten, she wasn't ready to go out like that.

"Need another?"

Glancing up, she saw Claire standing in front of her on the other side of the bar, leaning forward on her hands and smiling.

Panam couldn't muster up her own.

"Yeah, the usual again. Thanks, Claire."

Seconds later Panam found another shot glass sitting in front of her, filled with an amber liquid.

"A Stone-Cold Stinger for the lady."

Taking one look at the drink, she brought it up to her lips and threw her head back, gulping down the liquid in one go. She slammed the glass down and huffed out.

"Damn, girl. Rough night?"

Panam grumbled, laying her head in her hand as she leaned on the counter. "Something like that."

Claire grabbed her two empty glasses and went about sanitizing and drying them. "Lemme guess."

"I wish you wouldn't." Panam whined.

"Boy trouble?"

She scoffed then. "That would actually be far more simple."

"Okay, okay!" Claire was having too much fun here. "So girl trouble."

Panam glared at Claire and the bartender laughed, getting her answer.

"Anyone I know?"

Panam thought about that, not sure if she really wanted to answer, though. She leaned back on her stool, nails rapping on the counter. Honestly it's not like she has anything else to lose, she can throw her dignity in the trash while she's at it.

"Maybe. I'm sure you know a lot of people."

Claire wisely ignored the bait, smirking. "I do. Got good memory, too. I'm already narrowing it down to two-"

"What?" Panam straightened up quickly. There was no way she was that good.

The bartender laughed. "Two types of people. Either someone from your old clan or a merc." Oh. Well, duh. That was easy enough for anyone to guess. Panam relaxed in her seat, slightly embarrassed for reacting to hastily.

"I see. Well, you're half right. I'll give you that." Panam mumbled, getting antsy in her seat.

Claire tapped her chin, making a show of solving this little mystery.

"I get the feeling you don't like to mix biz and pleasure at your camp so I'm gonna say it's not an Aldecaldo."

Panam chewed on her tongue, trying to keep her expression flat. But Claire wasn't the best bartender at a place like the Afterlife for no reason; she could read people like an open book and Panam was one of the worst when it came to hiding her emotions. It was a horrible matchup for her.