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Dane’s head shot up, his thoughts scattering as he moved his beer and napkin aside, giving the man to his left plenty of room.

“Sure.”

He’d lost track of time since sitting down. With no natural light shining into the pub, it was hard to determine if it was evening, but by the flood of new patrons coming in, he assumed it was after five.

The television set changed channels, and a game came on. He blinked at the bright, flat screen, his eyes no longer accustomed to watching such things. How long had it been since he enjoyed a show, a movie, or even played a video game? Those foreign concepts now felt like an utter waste of time.

An advertisement replaced the game as another cycle of commercials started. The actors moved about a fake set of a home as if detergent was enough to brighten their day. Had commercials always looked this artificial?

Frowning at the screen, he struggled to grasp the staged humor. Perhaps he was just too tired, or was he that out of touch?

The next three commercials were for medication. He’d forgotten how delicate regular peoplewere. As a half-breed, he’d always healed quickly, but living on a farm full of immortals who never got sick really made one forget the tiresome necessity of maintaining good health.

Thoughts of disease brought about sad memories of his grandmother. Unlike Cybil, she could have been saved. She’d been one of the chosen ones. But she chose to die anyway. Perhaps that was the wisest choice.

The pub's noise and lights grated on him, so he returned his focus to his beer. The patrons were either talking or lost in their phones. Were people always this addicted to screens? It now looked utterly strange to him, like everyone was brainwashed and hypnotized.

Hairstyles had also changed. His once trendy style had grown out over the years, and he wore it neatly tied back, as was the fashion on the farm, but no one here had such a cut.

A few people stared at him, much like he stared at them. His face heated as he dropped his gaze to the counter. No one else was wearing suspenders. He definitely needed to get some jeans and regular clothes.

Straightening his spine, he tucked a long strand of hair behind his ear and swallowed, looking back at the TV so as not to stare at others. The technology simply couldn’t hold his attention.

The bartender, a short woman with brown wavy hair, hustled to fill everyone’s orders. She was pretty, taller than Gracie. Her eyes werebrown rather than the stunning silver-blue he was used to.

Realizing he was measuring her against Gracie, he quickly cut off his thoughts. Could he think of nothing else?

A man at the other end of the bar pounded on the side of a machine.

“Hey! Don’t hit the machine,” the bartender snapped, returning to the taps to fill a beer order.

The pounding stopped, but Dane sensed the man’s frustration. As terrifying as immortals could be, he learned to live comfortably in their presence. Now, mortals made him uneasy. He’d been away from ordinary society for so long that regular people now seemed unpredictable and volatile.

“This damn thing owes me a token.” The man whacked the side of the machine again.

The woman behind the bar shoved a tray of glasses onto the counter and marched over to the disgruntled customer. She only stood up to his shoulder, but her glare stopped him in his tracks.

“Hit my machine again, and you’re going to wind up with a repair bill.” She rotated the device so the game screen faced her and pressed some buttons on the glass. A small receipt spit out and she tore it off, handing it to the man. “There. Now you can collect your three dollars.” As she returned to her drink orders, she muttered under her breath, “Idiot.”

When the man left and the after-work crowd got settled, things slowed down. The littlebartender was constantly moving, but the rush wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. She worked her way around the crowd and eventually replaced Dane’s beer with another.

He awkwardly smiled. “It’s pretty busy here, huh?”

“Yup.” She always seemed to be doing three things at once between pouring drinks, ringing up customers, and rushing into the back to throw together food orders.

As a steaming tray of mozzarella sticks went by, Dane’s stomach growled. He needed to watch his spending, but he also needed to eat. He wondered how much an order of fries would cost. Surely, he could afford some fries.

He was about to ask for a menu but the bartender rushed off, disappearing through a discreet door he hadn’t seen her use before. When she returned a moment later, she was lugging a large tank for the taps.

He sprung off his stool and lifted it from her. “Let me give you a hand with that.”

Startled by his offer, she hesitated and then agreed. “Uh, okay. It goes back there.”

He dragged it behind the counter to where she pointed. Dane watched as she rigged the valves, disconnecting them from the old tank and reconnecting the tubes to the new one.

“Can I take that one away for you?”

“That’s okay. They’re light when they’re empty.”