image [https://i.imgur.com/QfF1tPn.png]

A couple of times a month, the guys at the station liked to head down to the bar and unwind amongst ourselves on our off time, doing what guys like us did best: get shitfaced.

It was mostly a tradition for Liam, DeShawn and Rob, as my attendance was spotty at best; it depended on whether I’d promised my time to others, which was something I allowed mostly of Mercy and Cleo.

In contrast, Heather always had the opportunity to join, but declined. Somehow her absence always offended Liam, like he couldn’t imagine why Heather didn’t want to be around a bunch of drunk guys acting up in public. Every time I tried to defend her choice, it became an argument, so I gave up and just let very stupid sleeping dogs lie.

But now Garrett had been around long enough that he’d earned himself an invitation. I couldn’t lie and say it was a high honor, but he did seem to appreciate a little more inclusion.

Our typical haunt was a quiet little hole-in-the-wall owned by a friend of DeShawn's, who gave us discounts on drinks for being first responders. I always wondered if it had more to do with us overlooking certain building code violations whenever we visited, but I wasn’t going to say anything about it.

I was the last to arrive, greeted by the sight of Liam and Rob smoking while DeShawn rambled about something to Garrett. I gave everyone a wave, and I got a nod of acknowledgment from all of them - except Garrett, who smiled widely.

“Gentlemen, sorry to keep you waiting,” I said, stepping up onto the curb. “Are we ready?”

“Hell yeah!” Liam grinned. “I’ve been needing a drink bad since I got off the phone with Lindsey.”

“Was she on you about the child support?” Rob shook his head in disapproval. “Least she doesn’t have you on the hook for alimony…”

“Every day, y’all make me so glad I’m with Jazmin ‘til the day I die!” said DeShawn. “When you two stop sticking your dicks in crazy, life will get a lot easier for you, seriously.”

Liam turned to me and Garrett, who had simply been watching silently. “Guys, listen: never, ever get married. Marriage is hell.”

Garrett and I shot a glance at each other before I laughed. “Man, shut up and let’s get inside. I can only hear your voice for so long before I have to be drunk.”

When we entered, the bar had a little activity inside, but not enough to scare me off. Some bored women in tight dresses were perched at the corner of the counter, and an old guy with patchy hair like a Xolo dog took up a table by himself near the bathroom doors. A few guys (who I questioned whether or not they were old enough to be in there) were already having a party loud enough to hear over the music bellowing from the speakers.

We claimed a table towards the center so we had easy access to the bar if we needed more drinks. Rob was preparing to get everyone’s orders - memorized by heart - before I raised my hand. “Don’t forget Garrett,” I said, pointing to Garrett, who sat beside me.

Rob nodded. “Right, right, right. What do you want?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Garrett replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t really drink a lot, so…”

“Surprise him!” Liam interrupted. “Oh, man, Rob, wait. I have an idea. You know exactly what to get him.”

DeShawn shook his head. “Here we go…”

An uneasiness began to spread across Garrett’s face. As much as I didn’t want to seem like a knight in shining armor, the last thing I wanted was for them to make him drink something disgusting as a gag.

“Guys, just get him a beer.” I gave a serious glance to all of them before turning to Rob. “And not that shitty beer they’re always pushing, get him what I usually get.”

Once Rob had gotten everyone’s choices, he went over to stand at the bar, leaving me, DeShawn, Garrett and Liam to talk while he was gone.

“Yeah, Gooch? You like it when your boyfriend picks things for you?” Liam chuckled, punching Garrett in the shoulder. “He gonna start picking out your outfits next?”

I rolled my eyes. That beer can’t come fast enough, I thought, pulling out my phone.

I’m sure Garrett objected in some way, but I’d checked out of the conversation at that point. I scrolled aimlessly through my news feed, but it was awash with headlines and subtitles that I couldn’t bring myself to really care about.

That reporter had been right; the Dallas news outlets hadn’t really given much airtime to the fires beyond saying that they’d happened, which struck me as odd. Then again, every station - depending on its location - had their own uptick in incidents without every paper in the city hammering down their doors, so was it really worth the attention?

The train of thought made me nervous, but not as nervous as the strange little lump on my arm. I purposefully chose long sleeves tonight to avoid any questions, but simply knowing that it was there was distracting enough. I kept finding myself reaching under my sleeve and touching it, as if the more I pressed on it, the sooner it’d go away.

“Hey, are you there? Earth to Manny.”

DeShawn’s voice came out of nowhere, and I jostled in my seat before focusing my eyes on him.

“Yeah? What’s up?” My words bubbled out of my mouth quickly.

He pointed to the beer, and thankfully, nobody else had seemed to notice I’d left it untouched. “You good? Something eating you?”

“Ah, right, um,” I shrugged, taking a full swig out of the bottle just to attract less attention. “Yeah, just… got these fires on my mind, I guess.”

“Don’t let them get to you,” DeShawn said reassuringly. “If anything, it means we can actually go out and do shit instead of sitting around counting dials and washing engines.”

“But it’s…” I trailed off, sighing. “Something’s up with it. I feel it.”

“You’re still having feelings?” Rob interjected. “Gotta get another beer in you, ese. Liam, your turn to grab drinks. And get some chips, too.”

I looked around the table at the other guys. It was strange to say, but I felt lonely in spite of the company; as they could drink and unwind and laugh, I was still struggling to unload the tension I always walked around with. All I could do was bury it as deeply as I could and hope that it wouldn’t rise like the living dead.

As Liam departed from the table to get another round of drinks, I glanced over at Garrett. He had lightweight written all over him, his fair skin reddening as he’d already finished his second beer. At least everything was funny to him now, so maybe he could take more ribbing from the crew.

I had no intention of drinking much - the days of getting blackout wasted were behind me, though not as far as I’d like for them to be. I’d decided that I needed to stay the most sober out of all of them, since I knew they were only going to egg Garrett on further into embarrassing himself.

The idea of spending the entire evening on my phone struck me as kind of rude, so I put it back in my pocket and turned my focus back to the guys. I was just in time to watch Garrett try taking a shot of… something.

“Woah, hey, aren’t you going kind of fast?” I raised my eyebrows in concern. “How many drinks have you already had?”

“Enough to finally get Gooch some hair on his chest!” Rob laughed loudly. “Gonna make him a yeti at this rate!”

Liam narrowed his eyes at me. “Christ, Manny, quit being such a hard ass. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think we were drinking with Cormorant.”

“I’m okay, Manny, really!” Garrett smiled, cheeks redder than they were before. “Oof, that last one kinda burned, though…”

I reached over to DeShawn and shook his shoulder. “DeShawn, back me up here.”

In reply, DeShawn groaned, trying to keep his eyes glued to the TV that displayed a basketball game. “Let me watch the game in peace!”

It was hopeless. Rob and Liam were already pushing Garrett into trying a different kind of drink, and I felt like I was the only voice of reason in some corny frat house movie. Hard to believe these were actually grown men with mortgages and bank accounts.

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Hours later, everyone had gotten progressively drunker, though I’d tapped out after the third beer. A part of me wished that I hadn’t, because the conversations got dumber and louder as the night went on.

The entire time, I kept a close eye on Garrett, whose whole face became flushed like he’d ran a marathon. The shine in his eyes had become obscured from how heavy his lids had gotten, and he met just about every statement with a goofy giggle. It was hard to watch.

By the time midnight came and went, the party had begun to wind down while the bar prepared to close its doors. We all filed out and stood out on the curb, where the night air was cool, but still a little sticky.

“Alright boys, I think it’s time to call it,” said Rob as he stretched backwards.

“Yeah, you’re right,” DeShawn replied. He yawned, then scratched his jaw. “Great fuckin’ night though.”

Liam patted Garrett on the back, which just about made Garrett lose balance. “Got a hell of a liver on you, probie! When you took those three shots in a row, I actually thought you might die.”

“Nah, not me!” Garrett laughed woozily. “I, uh, I got those, um, good ol’ Irish genes.”

“Of course— and we all know that being able to drink a lot is a useful skill,” I replied sarcastically. “Garrett, are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

Garrett nodded, but when he dug around in his pocket for his keys, he lifted them up only to drop them on the ground right after. As he squatted down to grab them, he stumbled, and that was all I needed to know.

“Oh shit, you’re fucking wasted!” Rob let out a hoarse, wheezy chuckle. “I think you outta get an Uber, little man.”

“No, no, no— I’m fine…” Garrett whined, clearly not fine at all.

“And who is to blame for this?” I glared at the three of them and gestured to Garrett as he made his way back to his feet. “C’mon, man, I’ll drive you home. You can get a ride to get your car back tomorrow, I don’t think they’ll tow it, right, DeShawn?”

As if sensing that I wouldn’t take no for an answer, Garrett smiled, blinking slowly when he came over to stand next to me. It was debatable if he was even sober enough to walk in a straight line, let alone drive. When he wobbled, he wobbled right into me, and the guys all laughed at the sight of us.

“Aw, look at you two! Gonna settle in for a romantic evening?” DeShawn cooed mockingly, earning immediate laughter from Rob and Liam. “Should we give you two some privacy?”

“If he throws up in my truck, I’m sending an itemized bill to each of you so you can pay for it to be cleaned.” I locked eyes with them, one by one. “Y’all know I don’t mess around with my truck.”

“Whatever! Have fun jerking each other off!” Liam shrugged, sliding a cigarette between his lips. “Later, guys!”

When he lit up, Liam waved to the rest of us, and everyone parted ways to return to our cars. I trusted them to drive because I knew they were aware of the hard limits where they had to stop drinking if they wanted to be safe on the road. Garrett? Not so much.

As we walked slowly, I looped his arm across my shoulders to keep him steady as we got to my truck. He climbed in with the grace of a newborn foal and shut the door behind him violently, which I tried not to yell at him about.

“Okay, chico, where am I headed to?” I pulled up the map on my phone, tapping to turn my location on so the GPS could guide me.

“Hold on,” Garrett mumbled. He pulled out his phone and brought up his address. “Oh, shit— I can’t, uh, really read this right now…”

With a sigh, I grabbed his phone and added his address to my route myself. As I tried to hand it back to him, it slipped, dropping to the floor with a thud. Garrett leaned down to grab it, but he bumped his head on the dashboard and let out a colorful string of curse words under his breath.

“God, I’m sorry,” I said. “I really shouldn’t have let them get you this drunk.”

“I’m a grown man, I can drink as much as I want.” Garrett struggled to balance his elbow on the car door, his fingers enmeshed in his hair. “And— and if it, you know, if it gets ‘em to… to take me seriously… then… good. Cool. Awesome. I can take it.”

“They aren’t going to take you seriously by getting you trashed, they’re going to take you seriously by giving you actual responsibilities.” As I rolled up to the stop, I put my turn signal on. “They did this to fuck with you, like they usually do. Don’t mistake it for anything else.”

He let out a dizzy, mournful groan. “Manny, I don’t get it! What’s it gonna take? I do everything they say, I, I play along with their fucking— their stupid fucking jokes, I do my chores, I study n’ study n’ study…”

“The station’s got a hierarchy to it, and respect is earned,” I replied. “Right now, you’re at the bottom of the food chain, so they’re messing with you just for fun.”

“Fuck… everywhere I go, I’m always on the fuckin’… bottom…” His head slumped forward sadly. “I’m never on top of anyone…”

What a way to put it, I thought in amusement; I couldn’t help but laugh. Immediately, he took offense. “Don’t laugh at me!” He cried. “I’m sick of people laughing at me!”

“I ain’t laughing at you, chico,” I smiled. “You just said it funny, that’s all.”

From the corner of my eye, I could see Garrett was still a little hurt, but let it pass. “People’ve pushed me ‘round all my life… what’s it gonna take for anyone to take me seriously?”

The nearer we got to Garrett’s apartment, the better I felt about taking him home despite my initial hesitance. The last thing I’d signed up for was to play babysitter to a drunk kid, but I owed it to him, since I let him be such a drunk kid in the first place. And though I wasn’t ready to admit it, deep down, I also felt I still owed him for saving me from the chemical fire. The scales had to be balanced somehow.

“It just takes time.” I reached over to pat him on the shoulder. “The better you get at the job, the more they’ll respect you.”

“So… I just gotta… get better at fires?” He ended his sentence with a hiccup that sounded like a croaking frog. “Oof, sorry.”

I sighed. “Christ, you’re a mess…”

Thankfully, we got to Garrett’s complex without a single incident of car sickness. I was a little surprised that he lived in the West End Historic District, since it seemed steep for him to afford on a probie’s salary, but then again, the kid was driving last year’s Audi. Against all the other sharp, modern cars on the street, I just barely managed to squeeze my truck in between them.

“Alright, we’re here. Let’s get you inside.” I unbuckled my seat belt and, before Garrett could come up with a reply, I was already opening the passenger’s side to let him out. He nearly lost his footing on the way, tumbling against me before reeling back to give me space.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he babbled quickly. “I’m on the, uh, third floor… there’s elevators, so we don’t gotta walk…”

Did I have to take Garrett all the way up? The thought crossed my mind to just leave him there to get back up on his own, but it seemed a better idea to beat my guilty conscience to the punch and just take him up there myself.

Dragging Garrett by his arm, we were able to get through the lobby and to the elevators with little fanfare, since it was so late at night. It was clean and ornate, seeming more like a hotel than an apartment complex, with floors that glistened and pure white couches; really, it was so sterile it actually made me uncomfortable.

By the time we’d gotten to Garrett’s door, he’d sobered up just a little bit, but not nearly enough. After sorting through his key ring, he still had trouble putting the key into the deadbolt, so I took his hand into mine and aligned the key so it fit inside.

When our hands twisted it together, he swallowed audibly. “Sorry…” Garrett repeated once more, glancing at me over his shoulder.

“Just get in,” I replied, annoyed at how long this was taking. “I don’t got all night to play with you.”

“Okay, well, I got it from here—” He bumped into an end table that stood in his doorway. “Fuck! Ow, hold on, maybe I don’t…”

Never before had I been so grateful to no longer be drunk, stupid and in my twenties. With a broad hand, I shoved Garrett on the back towards what I could only assume was his bedroom, hoping he’d finally gotten tired enough to go the fuck to sleep. Thankfully, he took the hint, carefully entering his room and flopping forward onto his bed.

Finally. I rested my hand on the door knob and gave him one last pitying look.

“Goodnight,” I said sternly. “Try not to die, if you can help it.”

“I’ll try,” Garrett mumbled as he rolled onto his back to sit up. He leaned over to start untying his boots, but by now, his dexterity was absolutely shot; watching him almost caused me actual physical pain. I pinched the bridge of my nose, heaving a heavy sigh before I went over there and smacked his hands away.

Without any objection, Garrett moved back, allowing me to pull the knots free from his boot laces. It reminded me of the numerous times I’d helped Cleo in and out of her shoes, though at least Garrett didn’t make a game of smacking me on the head as I did so.

Falling backwards onto the bed, Garrett sighed with me, but his breath came out more softly than mine. I could only hope he was trying to beat back nausea, because there was no way in hell I was going to clean up his puke on top of everything else.

“Hey, Manny?” Garrett asked.

Fucking hell… “What is it now?” I grunted.

“Do…” He paused to hiccup. “Do you respect me?”

I glared flatly at him. “Well, shit, you got me on my knees taking shoes off your drunk ass. What do you think?”

“I mean…” Propping himself up on his elbows to look down at me, Garrett frowned in such a way that it was more of a pout. “Do you?”

After I’d wiggled his foot out of his second boot, I got up and dusted my hands off on my jeans. Garrett gazed up at me with unexpected shyness, cheeks still red. I could only hope for his sake that he’d have zero recollection of this night, because it couldn’t possibly be good for his already fragile ego.

“Look, here’s some advice for free: you want to earn my respect? Do your job well and quit taking shit from other people.” I turned to make my exit, pausing in the doorway for one last look at him. “And for the love of God, don’t you ever make me take your boots off for you again.”

Garrett laughed, though I hadn’t meant it as a joke. He stared at me with heavy lidded eyes, so heavy that he actually looked a little dreamy. “Manny, you’re so cool… you know that?”

“Goodnight, Garrett,” I emphasized one last time. Then, I pointed toward his end table. “And put that trash can by your bed. You’ll be grateful for it later.”

Garrett bit the corner of his lip. “More than I already am?”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, so I simply rolled my eyes and shut the door behind me.