Page 76 of Behind the Bars

I kept to myself for the most part, hardly spoke a word, and still they made up stories in their heads about the creature I was. It bothered me a bit that I could be the monster in someone else’sstory.

I never wanted to be avillain.

All I wanted—all I ever wanted—was to be the hero of a story, yet somehow, over time, I lost my way, and I was certain I was too far gone to ever goback.

* * *

In the backcorner of Daze Jazz Lounge on Bourbon Street, no one bothered me. I sat in the booth every night, drinking whiskey and writing in a notebook. I was never bothered, always alone, except for when Jason wanderedover.

He wandered over each night to sit across from me with a bottle of Jim Beam in his hand. He’d always cap off my already full cup and strike up a conversation. “What do you mean they firedyou?”

“That’s all there is to it,” I said, flipping a page in mynotes.

“What an asshole,” Jason said, growing more upset than I was. “You worked your ass off there. Marc is such adick.”

Ishrugged.

“Dammit!” he hissed, hitting his hand against the table. “I know you’re nonchalant and don’t give a shit about much, but that’s messed up,” he complained. “Listen, if you need extra cash flow, you can work a few shifts here, whenever you needto.”

I gave a half-smile and thanked him. Jason’s father owned the bar, and I lived upstairs in the apartment overhead. Jason used to live up there, but when he moved in with his fiancée, Kelly, he offered me the spot. It was almost half the price of my rent at the time, so I’d snatched itup.

“Also, did you get my messages about the bachelor party?” Jasonasked.

“You sent me tenmessages.”

He smirked. “It was eight, you dramatic asshole. So, does that mean you’rein?”

“Out.”

“Come on, how often is it that your best friend gets married? You’re the bestman!”

“I do-don’t party. Your fraternity pals hateme.”

“They don’t!” helied.

“They think I’mweird.”

“You are!” he agreed. “But you’re my ride-or-die weird best friend, and if they have a problem with that, fuck them. If you want, I’ll uninvite them all and you and I can just have our solid bromance and go get drunk on ourown.”

“Isn’t that what we dohere?”

“Yeah, but we’ll do it with, like,strippers!”

I chuckled. “I’m gonna pass, but I’ll be at thewedding.”

Just then, Jimmy Shaw stumbled into the bar, breaking us away from our conversation. He’d been stumbling into the bar for the past few months since finding out his wife was leaving him. We both turned toward him as he fell into a booth and placed his head down on thetable.

“Hey, Jimmy!” we both calledout.

He kept his head down andwaved.

“You okay?” weasked.

He stuck his thumb up then proceeded to sob. Jason grimaced. “If you’re okay, I’m gonna go take the Jim Beam over to that sad sack. It looks like he needs itmore.”

I agreed and watched Jason go console Jimmy. My best friend was a good man through and through. He’d been that way our whole lives, too. Every time I tried to keep to myself, he’d kick the door down and barge rightin.

As Jason took care of Jimmy, I went back to my whiskey and mynotes.

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