Defiance: Perfect by Nature

Chapter Three: Precipice of Truth

Chapter Three: Precipice of Truth

Sure that Erin would stop paying the bill for him at the hotel, Max packed up the few sets of clothes he had to his name in an old backpack he had bought at a thrift shop and checked out that very day. He had all of eighty dollars to his name and no way of getting around, so he was forced to remain in Los Angeles while he looked for a way to get the hell out of there. To be honest though, he had no idea what he was going to do for money, food, or even a place to sleep; and he was starting to freak out internally at the image of him squatting in an alley under a cardboard box.

Max had never been in this position before and he really had no idea what he was doing. While his parents weren’t loaded like Erin’s were, they were fairly well off and he never had to want for anything growing up. When he was old enough to get a job of his own he laughed at the idea, because of his celebrity status around the world he had never needed money before. Back then he could replicate expensive clothing by thinking about it, he had no need to eat if he didn’t want to, and if he needed a place to sleep he would often just impress some random girl in a bar and crash at her place for a night. Things had changed drastically now and he was at a loss as to what to do.

He knew he had to find a place to crash that night, so he wandered around town for the better part of the day looking for a cheap motel he could afford. As the sun began to set on the sparkling city he was starting to lose hope, and was about to give up when he stumbled upon a run down three story motel with a group of unsavoury people standing outside the small door. The sign above the door said that there were rooms available from fifty dollars a night so he quickly went in and got a room key, happy that for at least one night he would have a place to stay.

The next logical step would have been to find a cheap place to get some food, or maybe go to a grocery store and buy some cheap packs of noodles, but that’s not what Max did. He had spotted a shabby little bar across the street and now more than ever he needed to get a drink. As an Immortal, drinking had mainly been a thing to do when hanging out in a bar because the Immortals couldn’t actually get drunk unless they drank everything the bar had; but now that he was mortal he wanted to see what all the fuss was about. And if it could help him get his mind off Erin, then even better.

From the outside the establishment looked like a total dive that you usually wouldn’t catch Max in, but once you got in you were pleasantly surprised. The owners must have recently renovated the bar because it still sparkled like it had just been built, and bright multicoloured lights flashed brilliantly on a small dance floor off to one side. The seats looked comfortable, the people actually pretty attractive, and the music blaring through a state of the art speaker system was crystal clear.

Max made his way through the small crowd of people and found an open seat at the bar, quickly ordering a rum and coke and handing over the seven bucks it cost. It was a substantial portion of his remaining money, but he didn’t really care as long as it made him feel good again. The athletic looking woman behind the bar quickly filled his order and handed him his glass a second later before moving down the bar to take the order of a group of men who looked like rejects from the Abercrombie and Fitch catalogue. They were obviously there looking for women to pick up and had chosen a bar in the bad side of town thinking their hunt would be made easier.

Max paid no attention to the idiots wearing their designer clothes and turned to look out over the dance floor, taking a small sip of his favourite drink. Normally Max would be in his element sitting there watching the pretty girl’s dance, but tonight he was in no mood for it. He just wanted to get drunk and forget about everything that had happened to him in the last week. Sighing sadly to himself he turned back to face the bar and delved deeper into his strong drink, finishing the amount he had left in one long gulp that burned the back of his throat and sent tendrils of warmth through his extremities.