High Energy Collision [Completed]

Chapter 6 - you might as well call yourself the Rainbow Hand

"What took you so long?" Rose shouted when Mean finally reached their corner sofa again.

He just shrugged.

He didn't know how to explain it. What should he say? That he had found out Plan had an ex-boyfriend whom he was running away from? That he had talked him into befriending him, without revealing his identity?

No, he better kept that to himself, they would find out about the trouble he was in soon enough anyway.

"Ah, nothing... bar was short-staffed. They'll send someone up with our order."

He caught Viola's raised eyebrow.

Damn, what was going on in her head? She was probably already forming all kinds of theories in her head about what had really held him up – and of course she wouldn't tell him her theories until it gave her an advantage of some kind.

Why were they friends again?

Rose's fiancé Vic had also arrived in the meantime, and he was already sitting comfortably next to her, his arm stretched on the headrest behind her, legs spread out comfortably, barely leaving any space for Mean to squeeze in next to him.

Rose was moving closer to Viola in an attempt to accommodate him.

That's what he got for offering to get drinks for everyone.

Vic seemed unusually moody tonight and complained about his co-workers at the subsidiary of the family business he had taken over recently, and judging by the way both Viola and Rose were nodding, he was continuing a rant he had started while Mean was in the backroom talking to a physics genius in denial.

Kind of fitting, that he was working in a bar called Gravity, he mused.

Since he wasn't particularly interested in Vic's work problems, Mean's gaze almost automatically wandered to the bar, where Plan had returned to, looking as cheerful and relaxed as he had before he had seen his ex in the crowd.

There was something intoxicating about watching him mix the drinks that got ordered calmly, methodically, as if he was working in a lab and not behind a bar. It almost felt like watching a looping gif – Plan's open smile at the next customer, the slight nod in acknowledgement of the order, then the actual preparation of the drinks, handing it over, accepting payment – next.

Mean caught himself waiting for the start in each loop, the smile, the nod...

Plan's colleague Grit soon arrived with their order – she looked a bit like Trinity out of the Matrix movies, as if she had been chosen to work here based on looks first – and she had promised to come back and take another order from them in a bit, but they could always come down to the bar, too, if there was anything else.

Watching her walk away made Mean question the reality of this situation, this club in general – he shouldn't have thought of the Matrix just now, the repeating loop of Plan working... maybe it wouldn't be too bad if all of this was just a simulation.

He tore his gaze – and his thoughts – away from the bar and took up the glass of whisky he had ordered, turning his attention determinedly towards his friends.

They toasted to a successful start of the semester and while Vic demanded the attention of the girls again soon, Mean's eyes wandered over the dancefloor, always eventually finding their way back to the bar... and the bartender.

What if he sent him a message? He had his number now. He should use the opportunity, as long as Plan didn't make the connection with the invitation he had turned down at the beginning of the week and felt betrayed.