The bar was at a higher capacity than expected, but they managed to get booths with reasonable comfort. Indigo sat next to Cezve and across from them, Vic next to Genevieve. They all ordered different foods from one another but had the same drink— Rosie’s Pig rhubarb, a treasure of Ireland the nation jealously guarded until recently.

After a few rounds each member became a bit more loose lipped. Indigo’s plan was in motion, now simply a few nudges were in order. Mere workplace gossip, funny recollections, and confessions of minor drug use were enjoyable but not the desired outcome. Cezve was scrolling on her phone looking up something. Vic and Gen were giggling about some inside joke they experienced years ago. One hour elapsed and everyone practically drank truth serum, save Indigo who’d been carefully calculating his intake. While preparing opening remarks in his head, he noticed casually strolling through the entrance door a familiar figure; Sémillon.

Here, now. Of fucking course. What are you going to do, Sem? Humiliation? Cementing your dominance in our little fucked up circle? You didn’t come here for revelry I know that much. How the hell did you even know where we were?

He observed Sem’s every move. Navigating with grace and purpose, even while entirely lost.

This can’t be a coincidence. You sensed I was going to try ask about her, but how? All this to what, prevent me from saying anything? I just want answers on where Windhoek is and perhaps why our friends side with you every discussion.

As Sem drew closer to the table, the other three noticed and became increasingly cheerful. After a brief wave Cezve and Genevieve jumped up and hugged him on either side in unison kissing him on each cheek.

“Ew, get the fuck off me you drunk sluts!” He proclaimed with aggressive vigor. He gently brushed them aside. The two girls began laughing uncontrollably while smirking heartily.

Is he being serious? They’re laughing but he didn’t sound like he was being funny.

Vic stood up next in turn to hug him and bore a look of elation merged into somberness. Indigo instead remained seated faking a smile, gently waving. Sem smiled most towards him as he sat in between Indigo and Cezve.

In the distance, the faded sound of their inebriated employer,  who poorly sang pop music, gently reverberated throughout the restaurant.

“It’s so wonderful to see you !” Cezve exclaimed  gleefully.

“I’m not going to lie, thought we might never get this chance again. How the hell are you?” Vic inquired intently.

Sem slid in nearer to Indigo, adjusting himself.

“I’ve been preoccupied with work, delving into some hobbies as well. Trying to create a travel itinerary for an upcoming holiday I want to take.” He said.

“Being out with you three feels… surreal. Sorry I haven’t been myself lately. I’m going to try harder to be outgoing and tag along on your adventures. Wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Indigo.”

“You see that! It’s because of you he’s out here tonight!” Viscount said while grinning.

Indigo was confused and blushing, happy but disturbed.

How’d you do that? I was going to talk behind your back tonight and had a whole speech working in my head. You come here and I’m still angry at you, but now you’ve given me all the credit for showing up out of the blue? What’s your angle— or is this pure coincidence? I don’t believe that for a single minute. He ponders to himself between excited murmurs.

You’re too careful, too calculated, every social instinct is an opportunity for you. But why can’t I shake this feeling that you’re targeting me? Stringing me along emotionally like some tormenting game of chess I involuntarily found myself in. You somehow perceived I was trying to figure out more about you, then boom— my plan’s terminated. This is just the beginning of a scheme. I know you too well, nonetheless I better just forget about everything. It’s… nice to see him.

They toasted to their friendship, support for one another, and the illusion of retirement. The four friends chatted the whole night through until 2 AM when the bar closed. Everyone was soused yet well aware of their faculties.

Sem offered to be everyone’s designated driver as he imbibed a single drink. Viscount and Cezve declined as they were in different areas altogether relying on Uber instead. Indigo and Genevieve decided to carpool in a taxi since they were in the same neighborhood. While waiting for everyone’s ride Indigo remembered his earlier mission.

The vehicles arrived in the valet loop and Sem watched everyone ride off. He began walking back to the office parking lot five blocks up. He felt quite positive about the whole interaction. The ciders were delicious, the setting was crowded but relaxed, but most importantly everyone was happy. Despite how content he was the lurking sensation of playing emotional bomb defuser was vexing him.

Along the trip home he listened to metal music  like every stretch. He pulled up into the driveway parking close to the stone stairs leading into the front door. He spaced out for a few minutes devoid of any thoughts, minute or otherwise.

His vision fixed on the steps then scanning the whole house. It was an impressive home he loved, but it also fed into longing and depression. The immaculately designed stone steps, the combination of brick and stone structure accentuated by wooden frames throughout two stories.

The first thing he did after locking the door behind him was head to the kitchen to grab a bottle of champagne and crème de mûre. He poured the blackberry liqueur into the champagne for a quite sweet but delectable drink. He sipped on the beverage passionately until about halfway finished then downed the remainder.

On the way to their neighborhood, approximately ten minutes away, Indigo was mustering courage to say something to Genevieve. 

It’s time, especially now that she’ll probably forget.

“Hey, Gen?”

“Yeees?” She replied, lazily and dazed.

“I have a question, it’s somewhat serious.”

“Ooh. Oh-oka (hiccup) okay.” She promptly sat upright instead of slouched. “I’m an open book, what do you need?”

“I’ve been experiencing resistance—no— bullying from Sémillon for the past year and a half almost. He’s been ruder to me every week it feels like. I can’t help but think he showed up to catch me off guard tonight. To offset that tension we had earlier today.”

“Well, he showed up because Cezve invited him.”

“What? She invited him? When?”

“During… during the… (inhales) drink.”

“When we were at the table?”

“Yesh.”

That eases my fucking paranoia at least.

“Okay, aside from that— what can you say about the bullying I’ve been facing from him lately? What’s wrong with him? More importantly I’m just going to fucking ask point blank— where’s Windhoek?”

Genevieve transitioned from her bubbly state to intense. He noticed this realizing he may have made a mistake. A minute that dragged on for an epoch ended at the mercy of her voice.

“Indi… I don’t… know what to say. Sem is a remarkable, yet mysterious man. He’s definitely suffering through something, has been for years. But if I ask he certainly wouldn’t tell me. It’s up to him to decide when he’s ready to share that. He could be ashamed, he could be depressed— it’s not my responsibility to ask more than once, because believe me all I got was the macho ‘I’m fine’. We all know that’s a lie, but we have to pretend that at face value it’s the truth. The social contract of the very statement’s utterance . I’m here, a shoulder to cry on; Cezve; Vic; you. “

“But why enable his demeanor? He’s nothing but bitter and I heard what he said to you and

Cezve. That wasn’t acceptable.”

“No, but…” she leaned into him, wrapping her arm around his neck. She softly kissed his cheek. “Maybe you can change that. Just ask him what you want to know.”

The vehicle stopped and they were at her place. She quickly stepped out while thanking the driver and shut the door.

“Uh, hey.” He said turning focus to the driver. “Can we—“

The driver nodded in agreement, knowing the frequent request. Genevieve opened the door and turned around to blow a kiss before walking in and shutting the door.

“Thank you.”