Page 2 of Dark Room Junkie

“Depends on how you look at it,” I replied, putting the phone in my back pocket.

Alex raised his glass toward me and smiled. He seemed nice and harmless but also quite nervous. I raised my glass in response to his friendly gesture and took a sip of my soda. To show my gratitude despite my harsh words, I put on a charming smile.

“You’re here every Friday?” I asked, leaning back against the bar.

“Yeah. I meet up with a few friends here for after-work beers. Over there.” He pointed to the lounge corner. “You’ve probably seen them.”

I followed his finger to the lounge corner. “Are you an architect?”

“No! I ...”

“Alex! Still here?” Patrick called out, slamming his empty glass on the counter and waving to Claude. “Long time no see. You actually stayed until the end.”

“Yeah,” Alex replied, placing his hands in his pocket.

“And you also know our guitarist?” I asked, reaching for my glass again.

Patrick ordered a beer from Claude, then flashed a wide grin and wrapped his arm around Alex’s shoulder. “The kid’s a photographer. All the good architecture firms in the city know him.”

I nodded in approval. “Photographer. Interesting.”

Alex wriggled out of Patrick’s embrace and looked a bit uncomfortable. When he noticed my gaze, he raised one corner of his mouth and took a big gulp of beer.

He had gorgeous eyes and a small scar in his right eyebrow. His dark brown hair glistened with a silky smoothness as if freshly washed. He was also clean-shaven and looked so tidy and well-groomed that I could almost smell his shower gel—a refreshing change from the sweat-filled air.

Before I stared at him for too long, I broke my gaze and focused on his hand holding the beer glass. His nails were impeccably groomed, giving the impression that he regularly went for manicures. The guy looked like he had just stepped out of an egg, and I instantly felt dirty and sweaty, which wasn’t surprising since I had spent the last two nights in the rehearsal room. My long hair was so greasy that I didn’t even dare to wear it down anymore.

A shower is overdue. I definitely need to find somewhere to stay tonight. As long as I still have fresh clothes, I don’t need to go home.

While Patrick was waiting for his beer and talking to Alex, Tom, our band’s frontman, came to the bar. “Here,” he said, pressing three hundred francs into my hand. “That’s the fee and tip from last week.”

“Thanks,” I said, shoving the notes into my pocket. “The Cristal gang?”

“Yeah, the Cristal gang,” confirmed Tom, brushing a few black locks from his face. “Lisa said they partied until five in the morning. Ten bottles of Cristal champagne and three bottles of Grey Goose were on the bill in the end. Accordingly, the tip flowed generously. And they even threw in something extra for the band.”

“They’re welcome to come back anytime.”

“That’s what I said.” Tom laughed, turning to Alex and Patrick. “Hey, Alex! How’s it going?”

“You know the dude too?” I asked, no longer surprised.

“Hey, Tom. It was a good concert.”

“Thanks! Unfortunately, I have to head out. It was nice seeing you again.” Tom then turned back to me. “Wednesday at the rehearsal space?”

I nodded. “Yeah, see you then.”

“Until then! And give me a call if you need anything.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Tom said his goodbyes and disappeared into the crowd as he made his way toward the exit. By now, Patrick had also gotten his beer and gave me another cheer before walking over to the architects, two of whom were his classmates. I was alone with Alex once again and wondered why he was still here.

Doesn’t he want to go party with his friends?

“You seem to know everyone around here,” I said, taking a sip.

“Not everyone. But that could change.”

---