Achromatic

Chapter Eleven

A Monday night at the bar was always more dead than week old roadkill: Russel still couldn't decide if his surroundings were real or if he was still having a bad dream. He was certain that he would wake up in his bed at an unexpected time due to insomnia, but no matter how hard he pinched himself, it was no use.

On the brighter side of things, Russel had worked so many hours in the last two months, he was promoted to the position of being a bar manager. This was good in terms of higher wages, but this meant the responsibility of working full time, even with the holiday season approaching.

Gregg, one of the bar's coworkers had noticed that something about him was off ever since 2D's accident. Usually he was in a fairly good mood at the bar. Often times Russel would be drumming on the counter to the music or chatting with the regular guests. These days, however, it was as if he was going through the motions, sometimes without saying a single word all night.

Gregg and Russel had become good acquaintances because they were the only workers willing to take late night shifts.

"Oi, Russel," Gregg said as he punched in his employee code into the register.

Russel took about 5 seconds to respond. "Oh, Gregg. Didn't see you there," he mumbled. He turned quickly turned to wash the counter.

Gregg frowned with concern. He could see that Russel's eyes were baggy and splotched with red, just how they were every night. He cleared his throat: "Er, the big man just told me he wanted to see you in his office after your shift,"

Russel stopped. "What for? He's never said more than 10 words to me,"

"I didn't ask. You know how unpredictable he is, though,"

"I guess,"

Gregg gave him a small punch on the shoulder. "Hey, earth to Russ!"

"Gregg..."

"I know tonight is slow and all, but I'm not gonna let you have this pity party. How about after our shift is over, we go to that club in Soho and-"

"Thanks, but not tonight,"

Gregg frowned. "Are you sure everything is okay?"

"Yeah, yeah...I'm just really tired. Didn't get much sleep last night is all,"

"Well, if you say so-" Gregg was cut off short by a loud door slam.

Russel turned towards the entrance and was caught off guard by a very frazzled looking man with greasy hair and wearing nothing but a pair of slippers and a blue robe.

"Hey, um, isn't that your bass player guy?" Gregg asked.

"Yes," Russel groaned in utter frustration.

Murdoc had completely forgotten that Russel was working that night, but he didn't have the brain power to have a second thought. His alcohol stash had run dry at the flat and so did his cigarettes.

Murdoc ran up to the front counter and leaned towards Russel. "5 shots of your strongest whiskey. And make it fast,"

Gregg shot a nervous glance at him then at Russel.

"How in the hell did you get here?" Russel said through gritted teeth. "Where's Noodle?"

Murdoc slammed 10 pounds on the table. "Took a cab. Noodle's still at the flat. I just need a few drinks,"

Russel frowned and pushed back the coins. "I don't think so. You've done plenty of drinking lately. You must have a ton of nerve showing up here this late,"