The Bartender

"Highball," The middle aged manager type tells me as he parks himself by the bar, "and a beer. Thanks."

I work the the handle of the beer pump and start preparing the drinks the customer had asked for. Remember, beer is always 30% head and Highballs are made only with the whiskey from the bottom shelf. I have already been here for the last 6 months how time flies. I pass the drinks to the customer and he pays. This is my life now.

It could be worse.

As I gaze across the bar and lounge, I see that the place is packed. The manager did a good job of bringing that hot new singer as an attraction. I heard from Maria that we were apparently paying models to show up and drink here? As long as it brings in business I guess. Its not as if I am in the position to criticize anyway.

"Purple Cow and Vodka." Another customer approaches me. I nod and begin preparing the drink. Just do your job. You are already in big trouble with the family.

"Hey, Gallant is it? This place yours?" The customer glances at my badge as he takes his drink.

"No sir. Owned by my father." I reply, keeping my face neutral.

"Lucky boy." The customer makes a finger gun at me as he walks away.

Yes. Lucky. By any standard I can be considered not just lucky, but outright blessed. Back in Neo-Cardiff, no one would have called me Gallant, or Mr Gallant. I would have been called Young Master. That's right, Young Master Gallant, from "that" family of Gallants.

Father was one of the first humans who awoke to magic during the Millennium War. Earned several merits in the fighting and got connected with the Host. After the war, father set himself up as a business man and the money came flowing in. Everyone in the world knows who father is. And that is the problem.

"Daffyd, are you day dreaming again?" Maria asks from her end of the counter. There is a note of concern in her voice.

I was leaving this place for good you know.

"I am fine Maria. Thanks for asking." I focus and smile back at her. That buzzing noise in the back of my head, its at it again. I have hearing it on and off for the past week. Ever since that nightmare.

Maria is a middle aged Japanese lady that the manager had recruited from a bar in Tokyo a few years back where she was working as the senior bartender. Quite a famous bar too apparently. Maria once told me that it was the favorite watering hole for all sorts of well known authors.

Maria is also seriously skilled as a bartender. For the past few months I have been working and training under her and every night she wows the customers with her art. The tossing, the mixing, compared to her, most professional bartenders would look like amateurs. No wonder the manager went all the way to Tokyo to recruit her.

Maria is also one of the few people in this bar that knows about my problem. The reason why I am here pouring drinks and not back in Neo-Cardiff.

"Did your father write again Daffyd?" Maria presses on. Why are you asking Maria? You already know he did. You found the letter when I was hauled upstairs to the drunk tank after I had partaken of the merchandise when the place closed.

Red. There was red everywhere when I left the room.

So father. Big man. Important man. Ever since he became one of the first human mages, lots of would be apprentices came knocking on our door hoping that he would teach them. Teach them he did. Used his apprentices for his business as well. Hoped that I as the eldest would become the successor that would take control of all the business and the magic. Become the new big man.

Except I do not have magic. Not the tiniest speck. No matter how much I trained, no matter what pills or tonics I took, I could never cast a single spell.

When father found out, he was disappointed. Then he put all his attention on my sister. My sister, now she is the successor that father was looking for. Powerful. Capable. Many people call her a prodigy in the magical arts. I was expecting to be set aside by the family. It hurt to be sure, but living as a powerless young master beats a lot of the other options. Father had other plans though.

Father demanded I continue my training in the magical arts. He said that I would show results or be completely cut off. My sister supported him in this. Both of them claimed that it was impossible that I, who shared their blood, would have no aptitude for magic. The problem had to lie with me.

So my training continued with no achievements to show for it. I may have taken up drinking at that time to deal with all the stress and that became yet another bludgeon for the family to beat me down with. I was now not only a failure, but an embarrassment.

The horizon. I could not reach it.

So father told me to pack my bags and move to The City where I could no longer embarrass him. He would arrange a job for me at one of his bars, but everyone involved knows that its just an excuse to provide me with an allowance so that I do not wind up on the streets. Before I left, sister told me that if I learned the meaning of remorse and showed any form of improvement, the family would allow me back to Neo-Cardiff. Father writes regularly demanding updates on my situation. I am sure he checks with the manager here as well.

The red. The red. Its closing in. I can't escape.

And that is the worst part about the whole thing. If they did not care, I could have dealt with it. Now, its as if I am trapped by their blood, by their expectations and by their money. There is no escape from this.

I tried to hide. But the red always finds me.

There is no hiding from father and sister.

It will eventually find you too. You have to run.

The buzzing is getting worse. I shake my head to clear it and say to Maria, "I am going for my break now. You alright there?" Maria smiles and nods. Thanks Maria.

I grab bottle of beer from the fridge, perks of being the owner's son, and leave the place by the back door.