Closing Time

53.

I enjoyed quite a few drinks with Mike and Lou. My tolerance hadn't failed me after I'd become less than human, but by the time they left- I was feeling the effects of all the vodka I'd drank.

I waved off the two, amusement in Lou's eyes as he watched my sloppy hand movement before he vanished into the night. Mike took off right on his heels as always, offering to give me a shoulder so I could head upstairs before he did. Nice lad. Nicer than I remembered, actually. Something must have changed with him in the past year.

I washed their glasses, counted out the change and pocketed my tips before heading upstairs. I still had a glass of vodka in my hands. One that I refilled quite a few more times by myself as I lazed the night away.

Sleep wasn't something that was natural to me anymore. However, I'd found a way to emulate a form of it that helped me pass the time when I had nothing to do. Being halfway down the road to drunk, it really wasn't as hard to get there.

This fake sleep was a real boon in all the months I'd been travelling. Not every place had viable enough network to while the time away online. It gave me a chance to calm my racing thoughts and just drift in a state of semi-consciousness. It was a state similar to being on the cusp of sleep. Right on the edge, but not being able to tip over no matter how long I kept my eyes closed.

It didn't, however, alleviate the hangover I woke up to. My alarm vibrated beside me, forcing me to acknowledge the throbbing behind my eyes and dry throat.

I sat up straight, ignoring the still buzzing alarm as I reached for the glass of water on my nightstand. Being partially not-human, also gave me the added benefits of less-intense hangovers and nausea.

I took a while to sip the water. Waiting till my headache subsided enough and my vision was no longer slightly wonky. My phone buzzed again. I have to go to the gym.

A tired groan escaped me as I forced myself off the bed. Pulling on a sports bra was its own workout when it came to waking me up, the chill in the air as I stepped out pushing me the rest of the way. I was reliving last night in my mind. The familiarness, the comfort, the jabs and the jokes. It felt nice to have them back despite all that had happened leading up to my departure. In a way, I had invited that on myself. There's no way I could currently think of that would have helped me avoid the entire affair.

There really is quite nothing like a horrible ex who is part of a secret organization that is out to kill your regulars.

Maybe I should try therapy. Any therapy that will not get me thrown in an asylum for how crazy I'm going to sound.

The gym was right in the middle of town, and barely a few minutes away from the grocery store. This is a small town, everything is barely a few minutes away from everything. I can walk almost everywhere except to the police station on the opposite end. Not that I had any reason to visit it. They'd had plenty reason to visit me when I'd started working at the bar though. Not very nice people.

A wave of warm air washed over me as I pushed the door to the gym open. The receptionist who's name I could never remember smiled at me. I smiled back, hiding a yawn as I turned to enter the gym. It was fairly empty. The early regulars were all there, lifting something, running on something, punching something. Taking a seat on the entry bench, I switched out my sneakers for the gym shoes Carla had forced me to buy. She was currently in the corner motivating a guy who'd started here a month back. Good for him. I can already see the difference.

As I was stretching and wondering if I could skip the jog because of my still persisting headache, Carla walked over to me. Her chipper smile forced me to fake one. "Hey, Ryleigh!"

She's way too loud for me today. "Hey." I replied dully.

She rolled her eyes at my reply. "Get on the treadmill. Going to force some positivity into you with a run."