Alcohol-arcade Pt. 01

Housekeeping: This is a story that I've been struggling with for a long time. I've wanted to to be both a quick wank and a slow burn. I can't make up my mind as to which direction to go. I've lost count of how many versions that I've written for this story. I don't expect updates to be regular as I'm trying to focus on the Hotel Room Lottery series.

I'm going to post this and see how it goes.

Personae Dramatae: (There's a list because I've struggled with keeping the names straight, even though the characters are clear in my head.)

Michael -- main "character" #1

Nicole -- main "character" #2

Austin -- Nicole's 12 y/o son

Jefferson -- Nicole's fiance

Liz and Jesus -- engaged couple that are mutual friends of the main characters, but usually only interacts with Michael.

Athena -- Liz's 6 y/o daughter, Michael's "niece"

I would like it to be an obviously understood thing, but for reasons...

ALL CHARACTERS ENGAGED IN SEXUAL ACTIVITY ARE OVER THE AGE OF CONSENT (SPECIFICALLY 18 YEARS OLD).

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Michael picks up his cell phone to look at the caller ID. He doesn't recognize the ringtone. Which is really fucking odd since he's the supposedly the only person able to change any of the settings, like ringtones. As he pulls it up to his intoxicated face, the caller's ID reads "Nope FUCKING nope." The ringtone matches with that sentiment with the song "Toxic."

Bits and pieces from his memory try to storm into his alcohol flooded brain. He breathes slowly and deeply as the song continues to sing from the phone in his hand. Mike tries his best to remember who in the world this could be. Who would merit his focused effort and attention to remind himself to not answer the phone? Even to the point of being labeled toxic?

The call ends. Michael sighs again. He pulls up the call information from his history, snapping a screenshot. He forwards it to one of his oldest and best friend and her husband with the message, "Should I recognize this number?"

Mike flops back down onto the couch that he has been occupying for the past two hours. Michael has been attempting to watch a newly released horror series that has been getting blown up on every social media account that he has. There has even been news about how the original distributor is suing the American streaming service for overloading its servers and causing service blackouts to its costumers for other services. Michael just wants to focus his alcohol laden brain onto the tv series.

As Michael advances to the next episode in his drunken binge watching, the phone that he has already forgotten about that he dropped onto his chest, vibrates. He momentarily watches the animation of verifying his face to unlock, he sees the text message, "If you answer that number, I'll kick you in the nuts. And after that, I'll have Athena kick you in the head as you're rolling around on the floor. Also, I'll make sure that Jesus won't interfere."

Michael absentmindedly clicks the phone off and drops it onto his chest. He turns his attention to the horror series on the television. His eyes slowly drift closed.

He wakes up to the vibrating phone on his chest. Normally he would have slept through it, if it was only one message at a time. But this time it was three in a row. Michael lifts the phone up far enough from his face to unlock automatically. Text messages await him.

Liz (Friend): "I swear to the gods if you put yourself into THAT situation again, I'll cut you off from Athena."

Unknown number: "You're mad, aren't you? Are you still mad at me? Hasn't it been long enough? It's been almost 2 years. That's a long time, right? I want to talk to you. Like actually talk, not this texting bullshit. In person. Please? I really like talking to you. I want to hear your voice."

Jesus (Friend's husband): "Hei what are you doin next weekend? Lets get some beer. I'll introduce you someone that has been askin if Ive got some friends that she could date."

Michael texts Liz and Jesus in a group chat, "Im too drunk RN. Gonna bed." Michael drags his body off of the couch and stumbles into the bedroom. The last thing that he actually does with any sort of focus is putting his phone on the wireless charger. After two minutes of find the right alignment, he flops over onto his bed. He slowly struggles with kicking off his clothes.

Once he has accomplished nudity, Michael throws his arms out onto the bed. He can feel the cats settle in as he slowly drifts off into sleep.

*****

Michael wakes up to his alarm at 5:15 am. He can feel the hangover trying to settle into his skull. He wanders into the kitchen, shuffling his feet to drag his kitten along so that he doesn't step on her. She is constantly trying to be on top of his feet. He snatches three bottles of sports drinks out of the fridge. After closing the door and sliding his foot with the kitten sprawled over it away, he chugs two of the bottles. He leaves the empty bottles on the kitchen counter. After picking the kitten up, Michael slowly walks back into the bedroom with the last bottle. The kitten purrs as loudly as she can while struggling to get free of his grasp.

Feeling irritated, Michael mutters, "Nikki, quit struggling, damn. I'll put you down once I'm on the bed." True to his word, Michael slowly lowers himself onto the bed. He deposits Nikki onto his chest. The kitten is momentarily confused. She head butts his chin, licks his nose, before yeeting herself from the bed.

Michael rolls over grabbing a pillow, muttering to himself incoherently.

*****

Michael finishes walking into the office building before his phone goes off.

"What's up, Liz?" he answers, he recognizes the number.

"You didn't call her back did you?" her voice sounds worried.

"Um, whatever you're talking about, no." He replies. He has gotten into the habit of checking his call log as he's shitting on the toilet waiting for the shower to warm up. "I didn't see any calls out to any number that I don't recognize."

"Did you see the texts from last night?"

"Yes," Michael sighs. "I saw both yours and Jesus'. I still don't remember why you two are so jumpy about this."

"We have reasons." she replies, she is obviously trying to sound calming and soothing. The text message bothers him. It's too vague, especially for her.

"Ok. Whatever. Anything I should watch for?" he asks her.

Sounding irritated, almost angry, Liz tells him, "We made an agreement. I'll never start the convo about that person. Only you are allowed to start it. And I will be upset about if you do." Michael feels a bit confused with the sudden change in her voice.

"Let's assume I'm an idiot for a moment." he tells her while staring at his phone.

"Yeah, no. That's a no go. You made me swear a promise." she growls back. "You even made Jesus swear to it when he proposed to me, and he got dragged into this situaiton."

Feeling angry and confused, "Can we talk about this at lunch? I feel like you're hiding something from me."

"Sure. Whatever. I'm only doing what you asked me to do. If I'm hiding anything from you, it's because you told me to." Her voice is angry enough that Michael does not challenge her. For now.

*****

As Michael's lunch break begins, he texts both of them in the group chat, "I'm on lunch now." Michael takes the elevator down to the ground floor so that he can walk across the street to the deli. He notes in his mind that Liz and Jesus are being particularly slow to respond. He remembers that they both have the same lunch hour as him. "Are they talking to each other to have a game plan? What the hell did I do to upset them? Upset them both?"

Michael is starting to feel angry that two of his best friends are taking so long to respond. He grabs his sandwich from the restaurant employee. Realizing what he did, Michael apologizes and drops five bucks into the tip jar that he normally ignores.

During his elevator ride back up to his office, Liz's response comes in via text message, "Please tell me you didn't text her back."

"Text who?"

"Her."

"Her who?"

"No. You're not that stupid. And if you honestly forgot who I'm talking about... The last time that I mentioned her you got lost in a lot of avoidable bullshit. We don't want to lose you again."

"Yo, I've been stretching my brain to figure out who you're talking about. And I'm not getting anywhere. Just tell me who is trying to talk to me, or who I'm supposed to be avoiding."

After a minute of watching the bouncing bubbles indicating that someone is writing back, the reply finally comes in, "Both of those questions have the same answer. You told both of us that you should never hear that name again. I'm following your rules. Jesus is following your rules. Not our fault that you're mad."

Michael's eyes narrow and squint at the message emblazoned on his phone's screen. He knows that he'll be baiting them with the planned response. He taps send on the message, "Well, if you or Jesus don't tell me who it is texting me, I'm going to respond. How does, 'Hey, baby. I've missed you.' sound?"

Less than ten seconds later, Michael is trying to decide whether to answer Liz's or Jesus' phone call. He opts for the friend that he has had longer. "Hey, Liz. Is Jesus with you?"

"Not physically. But I have him listening to our conversation through Zoom."

"Ok. Creepy... But, that's fine... So, who texted me?"

"You demanded that I never tell you that." Liz growls with heat in her voice.

"I can swear to that in court, Mike." Jesus follows up. Michael can barely hear him over the static of the video call.

"Someone needs to tell me what's going on." Michael states plainly.

He hears both of his friends take slow deep breaths. He sees on the screen that Liz has invited Jesus into the call.

"Mike, you've trusted us for years." Jesus recounts. "Why aren't you not trusting us today? And I get the hypocrisy of me saying that."

Michael's glib response is, "You've always given me a clear and understandable reason for not digging deeper. Right now, you're just stone walling me. I can't just take a 'Trust me, bro.' at the moment. We've gotten too old for that." Liz's face on the video call is worried and scrunched. Michael can see that she is doing something off screen. Michael then hears a notification sound from Jesus' side.

Jesus sighs into the mic, "Ok, How about I take you out to help you find a woman? I'm serious. Every Saturday night, we go out to the bars? We're not that old yet."

Michael can't hide the heat in his voice, "Normally, I would agree. But you two are trying too hard to get me to ignore something. Especially, without telling me what I'm supposed to be ignoring," Michael hangs up on the video call.

Michael than flips over to the unknown number in his text app. As he is typing his response, Michael can see alerts for texts from Liz and Jesus.

"Please don't. I've been asking around for you. I'm sorry that it's taking so..."

"Bro No It won't end well. Call me back plz"

Michael ignores them both. He texts the number, "I hate this cliché but New phone, who dis?"

*****

Michael had been wandering around his bedroom for a while, while waiting for Liz or Jesus to text him back after their conversation from lunch.

Michael has made several attempts to call both of them. He knows that they live together. There is no way that neither one of them didn't hear his call, unless they are both ignoring him. Michael then texts them asking what are their concerns and worries about him responding to the unknown number.

After the last text, he plunks the phone down onto the wireless charger. The last thing he remembers is slowly shuffling the phone around until he heard the sound indicating that it's charging.

As he lays down, staring at the ceiling, Michael hears his phone chime the generic noise.

Rolling over to look at the phone, he sees the preview, "That hurts! A lot! How do you not have my number saved? Fucking asshole." The first message reads. The second message reads, "I miss you... so much." A third alert and preview show, "Sorry about the delay... but you know why." A fourth alert and preview, "Gods damn it, I miss you. Every day. I miss you."

Feeling too drunk to understand, much less respond, Michael leaves the phone on the charger.

He snores heavily. He snores the snore of a bachelor. No one to worry about hearing him. No one to poke him to roll over. No one to throw their arm over him to pretend to be the big spoon, wishing that they were the little spoon. The snore of someone that momentarily wakes themselves up before falling back asleep. The snore of the lonely.

*****

Michael is halfway through his shower before he remembers that he had several late night texts convos. His recently sobered brain is racing. "What the fuck did I say? I need to finish up so I can read the stupid texts." Michael races through the bathing process so that he can get to his phone quicker.

Dripping water onto the floor, He realizes that every conversation is horrifying. His guilt and embarrassment is in full force. The only conversation hat he isn't feeling guilty about is the conversation that he was warned not to have. He wonders to himself about why it is the only conversation that he doesn't feel guilty about.

He replies to the 'hurt' comment with, "Hey, I finally sobered up. I don't remember my texts from last night, even though I can read them. Are you ok? I'm sorry that I'm an asshole about this, but I can't be anything other than what I am."

*****

Michael's text causes the phone to vibrate and chirp. Incessantly. Since that's the way she programmed it to behave. She blinks her eyes open quickly, as her brain sprints to register the specific ring tone for his texts. She rolls over quickly to turn the damned thing off.

"Fuck you! Fuck you! FUCK YOU!" she screams silently in her mind. Panic feels her entire being. Once she finally has the phone silenced, she tries to lay back down. Pretend that that didn't happen. That she isn't panicking. She feels her fiance's hand behind her. Feeling confused, she looks behind her. His eyes are angrily trying to lock onto hers.

"Is that your alarm to get up, or is HE calling you again?" her fiance directly challenges her.

Suppressing the panic in her chest, she replies as she shifts her body from going back to sleep to getting out of bed, "That's my alarm." She hopes that he doesn't notice the change in her movements. She looks at him, trying to meet his challenge. "You're rather paranoid this morning," she states as she stands up letting the blanket fall off of her. She walks towards the bathroom. She can hear him snarling, knowing that he is preparing insults for her.

"The only reason that I let your kid even mention him is that I don't have proof that you cheated on me." he growls. "If you ever cheat on me, I'm leaving you in the cold... And the boy needs to stop talking about him. That is not open for discussion."

"Fine. If the alarm ring tone bothers you that much, I'll change it," she growls back at him. Standing up, she snarks, "Every time that I've told you the truth for the past couple of years, you just accuse me of shit." Walking away towards the bathroom, "I've got to get ready for work, take the boy to school, and get all of the shit done that you refuse to do." Turning on the shower, she calls out over the noise, "You need to get over your shit about the name, Michael. Two of my supervisors and three other coworkers are named Michael."

"I don't care, you faithless bitch," he yells back. "If I leave you, you'll be fucking destitute." The water feels good falling over her body.

Thinking to herself, "As if that's much of a threat. You haven't paid you share of the rent in months. And you have a fucking trust fund. Why are there so many days that it feels like you're only interested in my son in order to keep me in your bed?"

*****

"Mike? Are you ok?" Jesus asks with trepidation.

Feeling frustrated and irritated, Michael mutters over his pint glass, "I'm fine. I'm fine. Seriously, I'm fine. Can we find something good to talk about?"

"Sure, bro. I'm just worried."

"Well, of course, you're worried. You two won't tell me what's going on?" Michael states as he sips on his pint glass while staring at Jesus. "Who knows what it is, but I know that you're worried." Michael pops his neck and hates how he is slowly getting older.

Just as he flicks his lighter to his cigarette, the server walks up. She cheerfully asks if they want anything. Jesus asks about the selection of American and Mexican light lagers on tap. Michael orders a Marzen instead of the Hefeweizen he's currently working on without any real thought. As Jesus slowly picks his next draught, Michael absentmindedly asks for the wine menu when she leaves to bring them the beer that they just ordered.

"Wine?" Jesus asks gently.

Michael shrugs, "I don't know." Looking at Jesus, "Don't you ever just get a craving?"

"A craving? Are you thinking about an Italian wine?" Jesus asks. He feels uneasy with Michael talking about anything Italian. Especially wine and pasta.

Taken aback for a moment, "Um, yeah, actually. I was think about a Chianti or a Merlot." Michael is trying to figure out what Jesus' problem is with him drinking wine instead of beer. "Is that a problem?"

Defensively, Jesus holds his hands up, "No, no. No problem. We're just here to hang out and have fun drinking beer."

Michael feels suspicious of his friend, but decides to just go with the flow of the planned night.

*****

Liz wakes up gasping. She heard the front door close. "Baby? Is that you?" Liz's hand drifts to the end table's drawer.

"Yes, gorgeous. I'm finally stumbling my ass in," Jesus hollers from the front door. "You can stop reaching for the gun. I'm alone." Jesus slowly walks into the living room where Liz was sleeping on the couch.

Rubbing the crust from her eyes, "How did it go?"

Jesus plunks his ass down into the recliner. "Not well. I'm still trying to figure out how bad everything is going to be."

"Is this a conversation for tonight or for the morning?"

"Tonight. I don't know how much longer I can remember what happened." Jesus watches his wife curl her legs up under her and focus on him. "It's only a matter of time before she's back. He's in denial that she is a problem. He won't even say her name. He won't even acknowledge that there is a problem. *sigh* He's being intentionally thick headed." Jesus slowly shakes his head.

Liz's brow knits and furrows, "How long do you think?"

Jesus hiccups and belches. "Fuck if I know. Tomorrow? I don't know."

*****

Michael slowly wakes up. He is testing his eyes for a potential hangover. He hates how as he ages, alcohol hits him harder in the morning. Once his eyes are open, he feels confused by the darkness in his room. As he sits up, he can still feel the effect of the alcohol.

"Why am I awake? It's nowhere near time for me to wake up normally." he questions himself. His phone chirps and sings again. That same damned ringtone. "Who in the fuck is this?" Michael growls at himself. "I don't just assign random numbers personalized ringtones. Liz and Jesus both seem to recognize this shit. Why can't I?"

Michael's phone chimes. He picks it up and looks at the screen. Someone sent him an invite from the unknown number. The preview announces it as a video arcade. Opening it, the business is named Quarters Quarter's. Michael remembers that it's a newer arcade that serves alcohol. It's gotten a reputation for being kid friendly despite the liquor license.

A text message follows, "I figured that we could hang out for a little bit. Besides Aussie wants to race you again. He misses you too. Please?" Michael feels a little recognition returning. The invite is for Friday evening after work.