Chapter 5

THE 2AM STREETS were blowing just the right wind for the windows to be rolled down. Although this also meant that Margaret's laughter can be heard through more blocks than one. Albert didn't mind though; he has heard the obnoxious laugh for what it feels like forever and now it's music to his ears; much like Aqua's Barbie Girl. He pressed the gas a bit more to savor the moment. Or maybe he was waiting for an insect to get inside Margaret's mouth. He was having fun nevertheless.

Margaret was out of her sober self. "Whew! I never knew I'd be drinking whiskey. Who knew I'd be addressing my inner Chris Stapleton tonight?" Followed by that weirdly beautiful bubbly laugh. 

Albert just shoots her a bit of side-glances from time to time. His lips bare-naked cold apart from the occasional curtain of smile he shoves every time Margaret hits a wrong note, which is all the time. So, his clothed smile never goes away as the tone-deaf, intoxicated, extremely enthusiastic light-giver sings and laughs her heart out.

She took a break from the singing to ask, "And you? Why did you let me get drunk by myself? You and your fruit-flavored drinks and toned-down Mojito's."

"I knew I'll be driving you home so I've got to stay sober for my apparently Kentucky-born country singer friend," Albert claimed. This made Margaret laugh again. 

"I'm pretty sure Stapleton was born in Tennessee, thus the song."

"No. He just moved there. Plus, he’s not the original singer of the song. It'd be weird for him to cover a song about Kentucky Fried Chicken,” he trails off, “I think I'd buy that though."

"Do you want me to look into his birth certificate?"

"Just g****e it."

"I don—"

"Hey!" Albert interrupted, "Tell me again why we're arguing about the birth place of some country singer?"

"You started it. Apparently, you know birthplaces of famous singers."

A proud smile was seen on his face. "As a matter of fact, I do."

Margaret punched his arm.

"Ow! What the hell was THAT for?"

She laughed and said, "Felt like it." Then she pulled her tongue out in a mocking way and continued laughing. She then proceeded to sing Tennessee Whiskey perfectly out of tune then the night was once again filled with her One Piece-type laughter.

They continued this kind of attitude until they reach the front of her apartment. Albert turned the car off and somehow the car also was also powering Margaret's voice because as soon as the engine grew silent, so did she.

"I had a great time, Abe. I've never been this drunk since forever."

"Why does it sound like you’re thanking me? I had nothing to do with your drinking.”

“You know what I mean.” Margaret.

“I had fun, too," Albert stated, "And yeah, you’ve never drank that much since..." He turned to look at her and her eyes but those eyes were closer than before. And they got closer and closer; so did her face. If he wasn't focusing on her eyes, he could count the beautiful freckles sprinkled and her hair strands loitering around her forehead and rosy cheeks. Then he turned his focus towards her lips; vermillion in color, radiant in form, and impeccable in all aspects. The drumroll kept getting louder as their lips got closer and closer. 

But then, in a heartbeat's pace, Albert pulled his head and looked down. He can't. 

This shocked Margaret; not only of what he did but also on what she was doing. 

She murmured, "I'm sorry." She grabbed her bag and hurriedly got out in one quick flash.

Abe was left there in stupor not knowing the next step. 

He sighed, "Again?" He recalled of the times this happened. He remembered the first time they did this dance. Their dance was never to each other’s tune but always a two-left-feet tango like a pair of angels strutting at the head of a pin. It's already been six years since their college graduation but the feelings never changed. A dash of shock, a sprinkle of awkwardness and an amalgam of other emotions poured right in; and maybe a really small pinch of regret.

He chuckled unto himself and proceeded to drive off.

A good 10 minutes of lightheaded drive later, he arrived at one "Walters' Diner"; a 24/7 diner relatively near his workplace. He parked the car in the rear and walked in. 

The diner smell got so strong and more familiar the closer he inched his way towards the tables. This place, in particular, is his favorite spot in the city. It has that 80’s 90’s vibe to it that never ran out of still for him. The jukebox with the half-busted speaker that played boybands and divas 24/7; the floor, chair and tables so greasy you practically hear them singing doo-wop; and of course, the sassy cook. Albert spoke to the epitome of sass.

"Got any spare beds lying around Scotty?" Albert inquired.

"Oh, you again? How many hours this time Abe?" 

"I just need 5. Early shift later."

"Alright. Sit down somewhere and I'll fix you the usual," Albert's friend said before he went to the kitchen. 

The sleep-adventurer has been here so many nights he practically lived there. He sat down and placed his laptop securely to avoid it slipping towards two streets away. He opened it and immediately started opening several dozen search engines at a time. 

The guy, cold as he may seem to others, side-steps at an animal shelter as a consultant when he’s around. And since his return to town a week ago, he’s been welcomed back as a part of their team again. Part of his job, other than giving the best advices and taking care of the animals they find, was to look for specific special species that they need for their breeding and harmless experiments and such. The dark web usually comes with a large variety of these stuff so lot of his free time, he spends there. 

While trying to get his mind out of Margaret and into his work, a guy in some sort of cop suit sat beside him and ordered, "Boiled eggs, dry toast, and coffee please."

The cop looked at Albert and smiled a greeting. Albert dittoed and went back to what he was doing. When received the 3 hash browns that had been wonderfully prepared for him, he immediately chomped one of it.

"Came from a party?" The guy took his cap and sat it beside his laptop to reveal a bald head with a tattoo of some sort of Chinese or Japanese characters.

"Yes sir. Just have to fill my gut before sleeping." Albert wiped his face with a napkin, "Here on a patrol sir?"

The guy laughed a bit. "Oh no I'm not a cop," he cleared as he looked at his shirt, "But I guess I am sporting that kind of fashion, eh?"

Albert shrugged.

"I'm not a cop. I was even a fugitive once." He paused as if to wait for a response but he continued when there was none. "Don't be scared though, I've turned over a new leaf. Now you can even call me an ally of justice."

Albert just kept nodding half-attentively while finishing his meal.

“I just got a call concerning the death of Leopold. I’m sorry but I’m got to go.” The ally of justice's order finally came just as Albert finished his. But the stranger then grabbed his cap, stood up and said, "Enjoy your meal!" as he puts a few bucks in the table and bid his farewell.

Albert and Scotty looked at each other. They looked at the guy leaving, and then again at each other. "Hey, free meal!" Albert chanted. He brushed it off as the guy probably some justice-ing to attend to. 

“Did he say Leopold’s death?” he asks as he gathers the payment of the now-gone guy.

“Yeah, I got the message during the party. I never really liked him but it’s sad to see him gone,” Albert casually replies.

Scotty nodded, “You never know who’s going to go next in these times.” 

They shared a look of concern. “Watch your back, Abe.” He went back to taking orders from the customers.

After finishing the meal, Albert thought about drinking the coffee but he eventually just went out the back to sleep. The room was a small box with a sole bunkbed in the corner and a few plastic boxes here and there. Then, in the room that belongs to his chum, he shut his eyes and the swift call of slumber got to him.

A faint cry on the other room. Blood in my hands. An eerie feeling of familiarity. 

Everything is blurry. I looked at the mirror and can't even see my face. 

A concert of guns on the adjacent room. 

The crying worsened. That's when I recognized the voice. 

Margaret! 

I ran towards the source of the wailing.  

There's carnage everywhere. Four, no five bodies littering the floor; bullet-riddled. One female and four males. In my head I know them but when I looked at their faces, I saw blank. I almost threw up.  

I can almost hear my heartbeat deafening my ears. 

I almost calmed down; until I looked at Marge's face. 

Nothing.  

Albert slowly opened his eyes. He blinked several times then looked at his phone.

"6:54. 1st of"-his eyes opened wide-"July!?" Albert exclaimed.

"I thought June has 31 days!" he hurriedly stood up, grabbed a flask filled with vodka from his bag and raised it as a form of a toast.

"Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit!" he downed the bottle and got ready to face the new month before him as the ominous dream he just had lingers around his conscious during the entirety of his breakfast.

Two blueberry muffins and a glass of mango apple juice later, he's slumped down the table in front of the cook.

"Get movin' Albert, it pays to be early you know."

"I know Scott but some dream I had was really putting me off." Albert said while still slumped. 

"Lemme guess, that Margaret girl?"

Albert straightened his posture. "Well, her among other things."

"Doesn't she already have a boyfriend? Who was it again—oh right, one of the most powerful men in the entire city?" When he said this Albert just glared at him.

"I don't have a thing for her!" Everyone in the diner looked at him as he walked off. "See ya Scott!"

Scott’s wave just saw Albert off. "You're an adult, man." 

He got on his car, opened his phone and lingered on the contact marked "Marge". He thought about how awkward last night was for her. Not any more awkward than the previous times that happened, of course. Like the time when Albert just broke up with his ex and Margaret made the same move; or the time they were left alone in a cottage in the bosks after a wild trek; and especially the very first time. He remembered how bittersweet the first time was. 

It would be a surprise to some, but Albert was the more emotionally mature one between the two, so he still needed to console her considering that’s usually what happens. 

Although this one was a fresh experience for them; she's in a relationship. He exhaled as he admitted that he hates it when his diner-abode friend is right.

He was about to dial when he received a call. 

"How very inopportune," he whispered to himself. 

He picked up. "Hello Ana?"