When he reached the top of the stairs, the dark green carpet gave way to a spacey private entrance. Inside, he found the man already pouring himself and Zack a glass of Scotch. This last part surprised Zack. Even though he hadn’t exactly obeyed the liquor laws since arriving on campus, Zack felt surprised the guy was about to offer Scotch to a college kid without inquiring about his age. It seemed like a great way to get a visit from the authorities.

Then again, Zack was presently covered from head to toe in beer, so this guy probably figured it wasn’t much of an issue.

“You probably don’t remember me,” the man said.

Zack walked towards the man. His eyes struggled to adjust to the light of the dimly-lit room. The man at the center of it wasn’t particularly impressive. He looked to be somewhere in his thirties, with a short if somewhat lanky build. His hair seemed particularly styled with product, but the rest of him seemed average if not somewhat familiar. The moment Zack met his eyes, a spark of recognition lit within his own.

“Holy crap,” he gasped. “You’re Max Mann.”

Even as one of the world’s most popular heroes, Dad never found many “work friends”. Even as a mechanic, he kept to himself.

Max Mann was the exception.

He eagerly shook Zack’s hand, a firm and powerful grip to Dean Weave’s warm and squishy handshake. Zack still couldn’t believe it. He searched Max’s face for any trace of age.

“Hold up, I was, what, ten when you started dropping by,” Zack said. “You haven’t changed at all.”

Max dismissively tossed aside the compliment with a wave of his hand. “Awww, you’re making me blush, pal.”

“But how is that even possible?” Zack asked.

“You remember my origin?” Max said, offering him the Scotch. Zack took a seat on one of the two plush leather chairs facing Max’s desk.

Zack scanned the office. The impressive trophies seen in the display outside continued to trail through the office. Zack spied a massive spear next to a potted plant, a fierce-looking wooden mask near a stack of old books, and a dainty-looking domino mask next to several certificates.

He couldn’t remember how Max Mann embarked on such a life. He thought back to what his Dad had told him, and it finally came to him.

“Weren’t you the guy who found the Fountain of Youth?” he said.

“I didn’t just find it - I fell right into it!” Max replied with an infectious belly laugh which quickly spread to Zack. “Not my most dignified hour. Came out looking like someone from one of those teeny-bopper boy bands.”

Zack let the laughter die out, before he asked the obvious question.

“But what the hell are you doing here?” Zack asked. “Didn’t you and my Dad hate this place?”

“Still do, with a passion,” Max said. “But here’s the rub…”

Max seemed to grow smaller in his eyes. It wasn’t a physical change, just an odd slouch in his posture. For an instant, Max seemed to Zack like a man suddenly too big for his clothes. He appeared like a teenager wearing his father’s outfit for Halloween. He stared longingly into his drink for the longest second, then he glanced up to look at Zack.

“I’m dying,” he said.

Zack gasped. He hadn’t expected that news. At a glance, Max emitted a powerful aura, complete with a youthful image. His words carried an extra blow. Zack had buried his father just a few short years ago, and now another death loomed on the horizon.

“What…what is it?” Zack asked.

“I won’t bore you with the medical specifics,” Max said. “Suffice to say, it’s incurable.”

“Is…is it terminal?” Zack asked.

Max was in the process of draining his Scotch. He stopped to answer. “Very.”

Zack took a sip of his Scotch. He let the liquor burn down his throat. He set the Scotch down and met Max’s golden eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Zack said. “If I’d known….”

“There’s nothing you can do,” Max said, waving away his condolences. “Its why I stopped hanging out with your old man. Didn’t want a pity-party. How is he by the way?

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Zack looked down at his drink. “He’s good.”

It troubled Zack how easy his rehearsed answer came nowadays. It came as a matter of reflex more than anything else. Apparently he’d been practicing it since the day his Dad died. He’d kept his father’s death a secret, just as Zane commanded. But…there had to be exceptions, right?

Max would be one of them, right? They were bros back in the day. Zack thought about telling him, but before he could, Max abruptly changed the subject.

“Anyway, to go back to your original question,” Max said. “You know about Jeremiah Innshadow?”

Zack nodded. “You mean the nineteenth century health nut.”

Max poured himself another Scotch. “He wasn’t a total nut. I mean, he wasn’t Slyvester Graham but still. Mainly, it was the springs he found that were the breakthrough.”

Zack’s eyes widened. “You mean they really could cure TB?”

“Not just TB,” Max said after another swig. “They could cure just about any ailment. Smallpox. Typhus. Yellow fever. Even cancer.”

Zack had already begun to connect the dots. “Do you think this spring water can help you?”

“I mean it’s worth a shot, right?” Max said with a gesture of his hands.

“What did Weave say?” Zack asked.

“What he always said. He said they’d do everything in their power to help,” he said. “Even set me up with this sweet gig.”

Zack nodded. Empty promises. Just as he expected.

“But that Shaw lady, she’s a real hardass,” he said. “She’s turned me down for every request for a sample as a show of good faith.”

Max took another drink. He sat down his drink and paced around the office like an aimless tiger, tightly coiled with no target in sight.

“She and your dad go way back,” Max added. Zack looked up.

“They were like friends?” Zack raised an eyebrow.

“Not exactly friends,” Max shrugged. “But then she came here and, well, that told your dad everything he needed to know.”

Zack nodded. He wasn’t surprised to hear Shaw blocking his way. She had done the same to him. A gatekeeper.

“So…what exactly do you do here?” Zack asked.

“Oh you didn’t know?” Max said. “I’m the advisor to the Sigma Alpha fraternity.”

Zack nodded. “They’re lucky to have you. Is that your display case?”

Max gave another dismissive wave of his hands. “Trinkets from a bygone age. Nothing more. But that’s not what I’m interested in.”

Zack set down his drink.

“And what are you interested in?” Zack asked. Max dodged the question.

“What brings you here?” Max said. “Zane must be pissing out a kidney stone to have you coming here.”

Zack considered his next words carefully. After all, this would be the ideal time to tell him about his father’s death. But something stopped Zack from going down that path. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Rachel, or any of his closest friends for that matter. Why could he tell Max, even if he was something of a family friend?

No, he wasn’t ready to share that part of himself, not yet.

“He took it surprisingly well. He’s not happy,” Zack said. “But he understands I need to find my own path.”

“Spoken like a true man,” Max said. “Your father must be proud.”

Zack put on his best smile. “He is.”

Those two words hurt Zack more than anything short of burying his father, and he didn’t know why. Deep down, Zack knew they were words he would never hear from his father.

He set the drink down.

“Thanks for the drink,” he said.

“Anytime,” Max said. “You can find your way back?”

“I think so, so long as your Alpha boys don’t give me any trouble,” he said.

“I doubt they will. I saw the tail end of how you handled Kaine,” he said. “You got your father’s move, kid. And you don’t even have the armor.”

That was one other secret Zack certainly wasn’t going to divulge. He simply nodded.

“Why even keep him around? He seems like a jerk,” he said.

“People expect a certain…image from Sigma Alpha. It’s an endangered concept, you know, that kind of strength in this world,” Max said. “He fits the bill, though after recent events, perhaps it’s time for a change.”

Zack nodded. Perhaps such a change would let Scott Stephen rise through the ranks. If anyone had earned it, it was him.

But that was a conversation for another time.

“Thanks for the drink,” Zack said.

“Any time,” Max said. “It was good to see you.”

Zack started to leave.

“Zack,” Max said. “I hope you know my door is open, anytime you want to talk.”

Zack nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Zack left the Alpha House. He didn't see any sign of Scott. He would need to find him, apologize and explain what happened. But that was a conversation for another time.

For now, Max's conversation had rejuvenated Zack. It had given him a sliver of hope after his disastrous conversation with Rachel. He had discovered a new ally.

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel quite so alone.