Page 29 of Monsters of Midlife

“You’re not allergic to egg, are you?” he asked, his long blue fingers elegant against the pale frothy drink.

I shook my head, eyeing up the pink drink. He put a shot of whiskey in front of Sophie.

“How do you get the top shelf whiskey and I get the kid’s cocktail?” I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders but smiled at me. “Just taste it. Jack has a knack for knowing exactly what you’re going to like, so don’t be surprised if you fall in love at first sip.”

She raised her glass of whiskey toward me and gave me a warm smile. “Here’s to you arriving in Alameda amongst us,” she said, holding up her glass. I wasn’t sure I wanted to toast considering I had pretty much been taken to Alameda against my will, but it seemed like I didn’t really have much choice. Otherwise, I would seem a little bit rude. So, I clicked my glass and took a sip. In seconds the alcohol hit my mouth and I felt alive. It traveled down my body, tingling in every molecule as it went.

“I can’t believe it,” I murmured. “You’re totally right. This drink is divine, and perfectly suited for me.”

Sophie shrugged. “Jack doesn’t get it wrong.”

“Can I get another one?” I said as I quickly downed the drink in front of me. I usually didn’t drink very heavily, but the stress of the last few days was catching up with me and I could suddenly feel the tension melting out of my body at the taste of the drink. I wanted more.

“It’s usually not a good idea to have five of Jack’s drinks. They’ll sneak up on you. Before you know it, you’ll be singing on the stage over there.” She started laughing.

“Oh, I don’t sing,” I said. “I definitely do not sing. Not unless you want to empty the bar really fast.”

Sophie chuckled. “No singing. Got it. Check.”

“Why did you bring her here? “A deep voice boomed in my ear and I turned around to find Tony Furlan standing right next to me, his long gray hair held in a ponytail behind him. He looked like a dangerous old biker, but I saw his goat legs and his horns. He was more than a dangerous biker. He was a dangerous supernatural biker. I inched a little closer to Sophie not because I was particularly afraid he would do anything dangerous to me but because she knew him better than I did and if he was going to do anything she would at least be able to react and respond.

“She’s just another customer,” Sophie said, staring Tony in the eye.

“She’s not a welcome customer,” Tony responded, folding his arms across his chest.

“Well, that’s a little rude,” I interjected, the pink frothy alcohol making me feel a little bit more confident. “I wouldn’t say that about you if you came in my bar for a drink.”

Tony looked down at me, his gaze cold and hard. “Well, when you go and buy your own bar, you can do exactly as you please,” he said. “Right now, though, you’re in my bar, and in my bar we have people who are customers and people who want to be customers and people we allow to be customers. They are different categories of people.”

“Look,” I said, putting my drink down on the counter and my hands on my hips as I turned on him. “I was just flown across the country against my will in order to protect me from some unknown threat that has recently demolished my entire house and made it disappear. I’m kind of having a bad day and I kind of need a drink. This is the nearest and safest place I can go to because I’m not allowed anywhere else according to Ryder.”

“You’re with Ryder?” He glanced over at Sophie as he asked the question. She gave a slight nod. Tony nodded, stepping back. “Well, you’re welcome here then.”

A tall blond man entered the bar. He had an aura similar to Ryder, like he could command the room with a single look. “Aurelius,” Furlan greeted him with a firm handshake.

“Aurelius is a demigod,” Sophie whispered in my ear.

Aurelius glanced over at Sohie and gave her a brief nod before he and Furlan turned and walked back to the booth in the corner. I gave a little shake of my shoulders, trying to brush off the ill will he’d just thrown at me.

“It’s karaoke night,” Sophie grinned as she glanced over at the stage where a couple of the biker satyrs were playing with a mic stand and a mixer.

“Oh no,” I said. “I told you when I walked in the bar I wasn’t agreeing to sing and I’m not about to start now.”

The bartender put another drink in front of me. I had a quick sip and suddenly my body was feeling very warm and tingly and content and happy.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Sophie said. “I’ll do it with you. I love doing it.”

And before I knew exactly what was happening, I was standing up on stage in front of the microphone. There was a monitor in front of me showing me lyrics as the music struck up. I looked with terror out to everybody in the audience, who were all staring at me. But there must have been something in the drink I’d been given that kind of gave me some courage.

Sophie leaned over to me. “Just close your eyes if you know this song or stay focused on the monitor if you don’t. It’ll be fine. Just go with it. Feel the music. Go with the flow.” I couldn’t close my eyes because I didn’t know the words to the music. It was some odd Depeche Mode song called Somebody. I remembered the song from back in the day and as the gentle piano notes strung out, I found the words were in my head perfectly. I closed my eyes and began swaying with the music, singing the lyrics of a person who was looking for somebody to love. The music flowed through me and up through my voice. I didn’t pay much attention. I was just feeling the emotions of what the words meant to me, looking for love and finding somebody who will understand you but also who might also disagree with you.

The music and words floated in the air, hanging there in bright notes. The room was silent when the song ended, and I opened my eyes. I swayed gently against Sophie. “I think I’m a little drunk,” I murmured. She studied me with her mouth slightly open.

“That was insanely beautiful,” she said, her eyes glistening with tears. I looked around the bar and suddenly realized everybody was staring at me, but they all looked quite morose and sad. A few of them were crying and one sat in the corner sobbing.

Tony Furlan stood up from his corner, looking as angry as I could ever imagine. He stormed over to me but addressed his words to Sophie. “Get her out of here,” he said. “I’m not looking to have a bunch of people crying in my bar. This is meant to be a place of joviality and fun. Not of depression. She totally just killed the mood.”

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