The Freak (mxm)

Chapter 2: The Lion's share

Curiously, working part-time as a bartender in a shabby club has become the only distraction in my dull life. It's funny, because I know humans tend to believe being a shifter is very exciting - even though they would probably be scared shitless if they were confronted by one of our kind, especially a feline. Still, we're very fortunate to be able to hide our identities. We might be stronger but they outnumber us and some of them don't like us very much - to say the least.

Most of the time being a shifter means being lonely, secretive and keeping yourself on a tight leash. The only moment when this burden is lifted from my shoulders is when I go into the deepest part of the forest, outside of town, and shift. I used to run for a couple of hours, enjoy the feeling of the wind and rain on my fur but I do it less and less because its becoming too risky. Some crazy humans who call themselves Hunters organize secret hunts, at different times of the year, and proceed to kill as many living beings as they can. Naive enough to think they will come up with a solution to fix the damages later, they've created massive destruction and bloodbath in the huge forest surronding us.

"Nour, watch the guy sitting at table four. Although he's had at least seven pints and is drunk off his ass, he keeps ordering new ones," Lewis, one of the waiter, says to me.

"I'm on it"

I head toward the poor guy who's about to fall from his chair. He's probably a shifter, there is actually a few shifters who come here and try to forget their loneliness in alcohol. I learned to recognise them quickly by the way they're able to drink an impressive amount of alcohol in a ridiculously short time. That's what makes my job more interesting; I'm not just working as a bartender, I am in charge of making sure no shifters loose control and act in a way which could betray their identity. Of course, none of the humans are aware of my double hat. If they knew, I'd be fired immediately- at best. Only Ed, the owner of the bar, knows about it. He's a cat shifter, and doesn't feel he can handle drunk shifters on his own.

Of all shifters, I don't know why he chose me though. I'm not the strongest one and I am certainly not the biggest one. He could have chosen a wolf or - nah, I know why he chose me. It's because I'm clever as fuck.

"Sir"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you feeling alright, sir?"

"Damn, you smell good. I thought waiters couldn't afford more than cheap perfumes" He opens one eye, then the other, looking me up and down. "What are you, boy?"

I cringe. Not "Who are you?" but "What are you?" That's one of the numerous reasons why I hate being a shifter.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, sir" - he's probably just taking a wild guess. I hope so, anyways.

"Don't you dare lie to me, boy. A friend of mine told me how one day he was very drunk and you helped him avoid making a fool of himself. He heard you muttering about how clever you were compared to these goddamn rabbits. So, I'm gonna ask you one more time: What. Are. You?"

"I am a freaking lion, that's what I am"

He bursts into laughter, which is, I have to admit, pretty humiliating. He eventually calms down a bit and replies in annoyed voice:

"Don't you dare lie to me, boy. There are very few lions left and I know exactly who they are. Plus, you don't strike me as a feline."

"I am quite muscular, though."

"You know that has nothing to do with it."

"You were only pretending to be drunk, huh?"

"You're only catching that now? And here I thought you were clever - yeah, you're right, I'm almost completely sober. How could a lion be drunk with less than thirty beers?"