Page 17

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Luca

On Saturday, a big rock night took place at Exil. My colleague Nici was excited because there was a band on the lineup that she believed would become big. I didn’t know any of the three bands playing tonight, so I didn’t care.

I was assigned to the bar section farthest from the stage.

Before the first concert, the same amount of activity was everywhere, but as soon as the opening band started playing, the rush at my station calmed down, and I had time to watch the concert a bit.

But as soon as the band finished, it picked up again.

Like a machine, I served drinks and collected money.

I liked Exil. It was quite different from the Wednesday shifts I worked during the Gothic Party, but there was nothing to compare it to.

The venue was full, and the atmosphere was heated.

The first band had done a good job, and as the crew set up the stage for the next act, the tension continued to rise.

Something was in the air, and from all sides, I kept hearing that one name: Nightrain.

The band that was up next and Nici’s favorite for the evening.

I’m curious .

It was kind of impossible for me to get caught up in the hype. But that had always been the case. Whenever a group of people came together and were passionate about something, it seemed suspicious to me.

Group dynamics had always scared me. And that didn’t come from nowhere.

After years of being bullied, I had reacted out of sheer powerlessness and fear on that roof back then.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t avoid the experience of being in pretrial detention, but I was ultimately released for a reason.

I had acted in self-defense. However, the fear of people in groups hadn’t disappeared into thin air.

I let out a silent sigh and pushed the unsettling memories aside.

As I glanced around the room, I saw a familiar face at the other end of the bar.

Juri.

My heart skipped a beat.

What’s he doing here?

I had replied to him that same night, but since then, I hadn’t heard anything from him.

The only update he gave me was that Noé needed his help.

However, I was puzzled by Juri’s profile picture, which was a photo of him, but he was hardly recognizable.

And above it, in easily readable white letters, were the words: “orders please.”

He was talking to two guys with their backs to the bar.

One of them was holding a camera and had caught my eye earlier as he photographed the opening band during the concert.

The other guy had dark curls, and the way he looked at Juri, he seemed annoyed.

But Juri appeared unbothered. Judging by his smile, he was even amused by the guy.

I served a few more beers, and then the hall lights and the music went out again, and in the blue spotlight, Nightrain took the stage.

My gaze kept returning to Juri, who was facing away from me.

The two guys beside him appeared stressed, but when he turned to the dark-haired curly guy again, I saw that he was completely relaxed.

The band began playing, and the crowd erupted into a storm of energy and excitement in the Exil. The audience got into it from the first second, jumping to the beat of the music and getting carried away by the band. A long-haired singer emerged and greeted the crowd with a long scream.

Isn’t that …?

Noé.

The guy who couldn’t even walk on Tuesday was now putting on a performance that the opening band could learn a lot from. They didn’t even need to finish the first song; I understood why people were hyping up this group so much even without that.

Wannabe rockstar, my ass. I totally misjudged him.

And he’s Juri’s …?

They weren’t really brothers.

Throughout the whole concert, it remained quiet at my station. Every now and then, someone would come and order a beer. And just as I was collecting money and giving back change, out of nowhere, Juri stood in front of me.

It was hard for me to interpret his expression. There was obviously great joy in seeing me in his black-painted eyes, but he pressed his lips together and forced a smile. I then realized he was trying to figure out if I was angry with him.

Does he feel guilty for not replying to my message?

And with the way Tuesday ended, there was no reason for me to be angry with him. I had gone home with his number and had been so inspired that I had written several pages.

“Hi!”

He stepped closer to the counter and leaned forward. “Hi! You also work here?”

It wasn’t until then that I realized he didn’t know about it. “Yes, it’s my second night here.”

He nodded, displaying a hint of confusion as he kept his eyes on me.

“Do you want a beer? Or a whiskey cola?”

His gaze briefly drifted to the two guys at the end of the bar, then he sat on a stool. “A beer.”

“Coming right up.”

“Listen … I’m sorry about Tuesday. I …”

“Is that your bro up there on stage? I recognize him.”

“He really needed my help.”

“I understand.” I set the plastic cup down in front of him. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you. Is he feeling better?”

Although he owed me an answer, he put the money down and took a sip, before saying, “I have to thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, putting the cup back down.

“Tuesday was incredibly inspiring.” I wanted to ask him when we would meet again, but I was interrupted by several customers. While I served their drinks, Juri remained seated and watched the concert. Eventually, Clé and another friend also ordered beers at the bar and returned to the audience.

Does he not want to party with them?

But it seemed like he was enjoying the concert from here just as much. And I enjoyed having him nearby while I served more patrons.

The concert ended quite abruptly to my liking. Although the guitarist let the last note fade out, the dull sound that echoed from the speakers when Noé dropped the microphone to the ground was quite final. For a brief moment, I saw Juri’s forehead creased with concern.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah.” His answer was unconvincing. And as much as he seemed to want to run away, he stayed seated and smiled at me—albeit somewhat tense.

It didn’t take long for the audience to realize there wouldn’t be an encore. While the stage was being set up for the third band, people crowded back to the bar, bombarding me with orders.

As if that wasn’t enough excitement, the photographer and the curly-haired guy also returned and approached Juri.

However, he remained quite calm. Although I only caught bits and pieces of what was happening when Juri and the photographer exchanged numbers—Noé had disappeared—it seemed like tensions were easing and the two guys took off.

“What was that about?” I asked once the rush had finally subsided.

Juri waved it off with a casual gesture. “Nothing much. My buddy took off, and those two are just freaking out. But he’ll turn up again.”

When the third band joined the stage, it was dead quiet at my station, so Nici came over and told me I could call it a night.

After cleaning up everything at the bar, I went to the back office to handle the accounting.

My emotions bubbled over as I retreated to the club, and Juri was still sitting at the bar.

Is he waiting for me?

“You’re still here,” I said, walking over to him.

“Of course. Where else would I go?” He swiveled on the stool to face me.

“Where are your friends?”

He nodded toward the crowd. “Somewhere in there.”

“Do you want to have another drink with me?”

There was a greedy sparkle in his eyes, and as he licked his lips, something stirred inside me that I couldn’t name. Damn it, man! My cock twitched! He nodded, a gesture so profound it felt as if the ground had momentarily vanished beneath me.

What’s this guy doing to me?

I made my way over to Nici behind the bar and poured myself a post-work beer at her station. I then sat on the stool next to Juri and clinked glasses with him, trying my best to ignore the fact that our knees were touching.

“Your friend can really sing,” I said, unable to come up with anything better.

“Yeah,” Juri shifted on the stool, appearing slightly nervous. “And … um … what have you been up to these past few days?”

I smiled at his awkward attempt to start a conversation. “My life is boring. You know that.”

“Oh, really?”

“Always the same. Training, working, and this damn concept keeps swirling around in my head.” Feeling slightly irritated, I realized I wasn’t quite telling the truth here. Since last Tuesday, Juri had taken a prominent place in my thoughts. “Can I ask you something?”

“What?” he asked, amused.

“Is Clé your boyfriend?”

“What?” His voice almost faltered, then he burst out laughing. “No! Heavens no! He’s not into me! Why would you think that?”

“Well, I saw you … um … kiss him.”

He made a puzzled face. “I kiss many people, but Clé gains nothing from it. He’s into women, for heaven’s sake.”

“You … What? What do you mean you kiss many people?”

Juri peered down at his half-full glass, seeming somewhat sad.

“Would you kiss me too?”

I wondered where I had gone wrong to seriously ask him something like that. But knowing that Clé wasn’t his boyfriend made me brave, even though I had no idea what I was hoping to achieve with this question.

Juri was to blame. He brought out this side of me. I was flirting, damn it, and I didn’t understand myself anymore. It’s not like Juri would fall in love with me. And yet, my heart raced as he turned to face me, scrutinizing me with a probing gaze.

“You know my rates,” he said mischievously.

I frowned in surprise. “You have a strange sense of humor.”

He smiled and took a sip of his beer. “How’s your project going? With the back rooms?”

I let out a frustrated sigh and combed my fingers through my hair. Although I had written a lot since Tuesday, I was still far from having a usable concept.

“Honestly? I’m starting to think I’m trapped in a back room. Maybe I’ve watched too much of The Matrix , but it feels like I’m part of some absurd game. If you have any idea how I could get out of this, please. I’m open to anything.”

“Maybe you’re making it unnecessarily difficult for yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, your back rooms are so abstract that I’m still not sure what exactly you mean by them. So, I just imagine these other back rooms.”

“What other back rooms? Do you mean … back rooms like in a club?”

I had to admit that since Juri mentioned it on Tuesday and Hector was the second person to bring it up, I had done some research. “Places where shady deals are made or … I also read that people go to such places to have sex.”

Juri shrugged nonchalantly, and suddenly, a flurry of thoughts filled my mind.

“Maybe you’re right, and it’s actually too abstract. If I were to focus on these club back rooms, then … But I don’t even know how I could gain access to such a back room.”

“That’s the least of your problems,” Juri said dryly.

“Are you saying you know … oh, I forgot you live in a brothel.”

“Nonsense! Back rooms are everywhere! That’s the whole point of it.”

“What do you mean everywhere? You can show me one if you know of any.”

“There’s one here.”

“What here? Here at the Exil?”

“Yeah, I had something with a bouncer from here. We … you know.”

“Seriously?” I could hardly believe it and stood up. “Then show me!”

But Juri remained seated and continued drinking his beer.

“What’s up? Or did you just bullshit me?”