Macallan 1946

This morning, my cell phone suddenly rang, interrupting my routine meditation or more accurately waking me from the drowsiness brought on by meditation. I saw the caller ID came from Eve Café, and as far as I remembered, today was my day off.

"Jaime speaking," I answered.

"Jaime," Master's voice echoed immediately, "Are you going to the city today?"

"No plans, but if Master needs me, I can make a trip," I responded, thinking I could also visit a bookstore or buy groceries for my fridge.

"That's a coincidence," Master laughed, "Maybe it's good for you to go and see the city, perhaps date some girls rather than confining yourself at home."

I laughed, "So, how can I assist Master?"

"Could you pick up our beverage order from our usual spot? I've already contacted them; you just have to pick it up as usual."

"Alright Master, but do you want it delivered now or shall I bring it tomorrow when I come to work?"

"Tomorrow will do. I'll ask Barth to drop by your place before he heads back to the city," added Master.

"Barth?" I queried, "Alright Master. Any other orders?"

"For now, that's all," Master said, ending the conversation. Glancing at the clock on my phone, it read 07:45. Bartholomeus, the seller and delivery man of fresh meat and vegetables for Eve Café from the city, often referred to as Barth, would probably be at my place in 15 minutes. This required me to quickly change and break from my meditation, though I admit that if I continued, I would just fall soundly asleep.

On the road inside Barth's truck, we chatted away. Yet, men usually only discuss a few topics – women and money. Upon reaching the city center, I headed to a mall and entered the biggest bookstore in Melodistria. The sensation was amazing, with shelves full of the latest books, stacks of new magazines, everything that quenched my intellectual thirst. This was truly a heaven on earth for me. I wandered around, spending nearly three hours browsing and reading, eventually buying two books about superhumans.

It was 11:45 when I left the bookstore. The Beverage and Wine Store, where we usually stock up for Eve Café, is located on the sixth floor of the mall and opens after 11:00 - the perfect time to pick up the pre-ordered drinks and head home. Throughout the journey to the sixth floor, I noticed some beautifully dressed girls. It's a great place to feast my eyes, although I always felt inferior comparing my attire to theirs. My clothes looked cheap and out of fashion, but fashionable clothes are expensive and my salary isn't sufficient for such luxuries. Besides, given the choice and the money, I'd rather buy books than clothes.

Yet who cares, as long as some pretty girls glanced at me with interest, I was content.

I stepped into the Beverage and Wine Store which sells nearly every luxury drink and wine. Master has been getting drinks from this place since Eve Café first opened, or maybe even longer considering his close relationship with the manager. It took me only five minutes to enter and exit the store with a brown cardboard bag containing a sealed wooden box of, I presume, an expensive drink and two bottles of Gin and Sherry. The payment would be billed to Master's account, so I didn't have to worry. Now, all I wanted was to go home, sink into my couch, and enjoy my new books with a cup of hot beverage.

Oh… I was so looking forward to it.

"Don't mess around, John!"

Hearing the shout, I looked ahead. Right in front of a café, a group of five men was verbally confronting two young girls. One blonde-haired girl was daring enough to berate a seemingly furious man. To me, only a madman would argue with a girl. Real men don't pick fights with women, especially in public.

Winning isn't something to boast about, but losing is even more embarrassing.

I tried to sidestep the gathered crowd, sticking close to the waist-high glass railing that prevented people from falling to the ground floor. I recalled there were rumors of someone once jumping off from here in an act of desperation.

Because of love ... or stupidity.

I would soon pass by them as the screams from their argument grew louder, accompanied by profanities and mentions of zoo animals. I quickly raised my drink bag and clutched it with both hands, not wanting anyone to accidentally touch these valuable items and bring me misfortune.

The argument escalated as the blonde girl hit the man with her handbag, causing him to shove her hard. She fell backward, her hips hitting the floor, and she ended up sitting right in front of my feet. Luckily I had raised my drink; otherwise, her back or hand might have crashed into it. I stared at her, and being a good man, I wouldn't interfere in anyone's business or play the hero, especially in matters I wasn't clearly aware of. So, I just stood there, waiting for her to stand so I could pass.

Still seated, the fierce girl continued to berate the man. I winced and reluctantly offered a hand to help her up, with my other hand still holding the drink bag, hoping I could leave soon. Right then, I noticed one of the girl's friends turning and walking towards her to help. I had thought from the beginning she was trying to break up the fight – an attractive girl with big eyes. Too big, I thought suddenly, as her face now loomed close and she was thrust towards me. The man behind her had either pushed or perhaps kicked her, causing her to lunge at me with arms outstretched.

I tried to dodge, but failed. One of her hands hit the drink bag I was holding, sending it flying over a glass barrier. I wanted to grab the drink, but simultaneously, I noticed the girl's upper body also being propelled over the glass barrier, half of her body teetering on the edge. I had to choose quickly – save the girl from falling or catch my floating drink bag. In the next moment, my hand made its choice, and I watched the drink bag fall until the sound of breaking glass reached my ears from the lowest floor. I hoped the bag containing a box of an expensive drink and two regular bottles hadn't hit anyone below. Seeing the spilled liquid on the floor, I wished it wasn't my drink bag.

My arms were still around the young girl, and her eyes were also on the bag she'd knocked down. A man, who had earlier pushed her, approached the blonde girl by my side and said, "How dare you hit me? Even my own mother has never hit me!" He grabbed the blonde girl by the hair, and I released the girl I was holding. My anger surged, seeing his treatment of women and the destruction of my possessions. I approached him, grabbed his hair, yanked his head down, and my knee shot up into his face. Blood spurted from his possibly broken nose, and he fell, looking up at the mall ceiling. Two of his friends lunged at me, but I charged them. A punch to the nearest one's stomach made him crumple in pain.

Another tried to punch me; I dodged, grabbed his head, and kneed his face. The remaining two attacked, one from behind, but a swift kick sent him to the floor. The last one, taken aback by my moves, was an easy target for my fist. All five lay on the ground, groaning in pain. City people, too soft and comfortable. My anger wasn't subsiding. I was about to kick one trying to get up when the girl who caused my drink to spill hugged me from behind.

"Stop," she yelled.

No matter how angry, I'd never hit a woman. I glared, "Let go of me." Startled, she let go. I saw the fear in the eyes of the man in front of me, then turned to go downstairs to see my fallen drink. I just hoped the seemingly expensive drink wasn't as pricey as I thought. Falling from the sixth floor, there's no way it survived, though I wished otherwise. Reaching the ground floor, a security guard approached threateningly, "Did you drop this? Don't you know it's dangerous?"

"The person who knocked over my items is on the 6th floor," I replied indifferently. The security guard immediately looked up and turned on his radio to call his colleague on that floor to find anyone responsible for causing all this. I anxiously approached the now destroyed beverage bag and stared at the also destroyed drink box, spilling its contents. I crouched in front of the scattered cardboard fragments and easily moved aside the drink box to see the shattered bottle with a label still attached among the shards. "Macallan..." I whispered so softly, my eyes almost disbelieving what I saw, "Macallan 1946!"

I read it repeatedly to make sure I was not mistaken about the shattered bottle, but after looking several times and reading each word, the writing indeed said "M A C A L L A N 1946". My heart felt like it stopped beating. Macallan 1946 is a special bottle, with only a few in the world. Unlike other Macallan years, the 1946 Macallan was made differently, and it's very expensive as it is a collector's edition. My face turned pale, feeling bloodless. I didn't know how to deal with a situation like this. This all felt surreal. My drink bag was pushed by a girl, but she was innocent as she was pushed by a man, and I chose to save her over my drink bag. Clearly, I'd rather see my drink bag fall and shatter here than her body. But who's going to compensate for this broken bottle? I didn't know how to account for this situation. I might get fired, lose my job, my home, and perhaps my life in the city would be over.

I didn't care much about all of that; what I was thinking about was how to solve this problem. I didn't want to burden anyone with my mistake. I need to take responsibility for my own wrongdoing. Even if I get fired, the Master will bear a significant loss, and I'll owe him for a lifetime. Trembling, I picked up every shard of the bottle and put them into the partially destroyed wooden box. Unsure of what I can do about this except try to collect it all, my hand shaking, I thought I only had one way out. The only way to deal with this situation is to pay for all these losses myself. After collecting the shards that wet my fingers, I walked limply towards the elevator to head to the Wine and Spirits Shop, carrying the shattered bottle shards. A security guard tried to stop me, "Hey, wait, you need to come to the office to account for this."

I looked at him angrily and asked, "Do you want to be responsible for paying for this drink?" The guard paused and continued, "The company will try to replace it for you if you're not at fault, now come with me to the office." My lips twitched into a smile, "Follow me to the 6th floor, Wine and Spirits Shop. Let's see if your company wants to replace it or not," I said, entering the elevator, followed by him.

"How much is it?" the guard asked in shock when introduced to Mr. Drick, the manager of the Wine and Spirits Shop. The manager mentioned the price again, and the guard looked like he was about to faint. "Does your company want to replace it if I go with you?" I challenged him, visibly upset because the price of the broken bottle could buy him a small simple house. The guard immediately grimaced, looking guilty, and contacted his colleague on the radio asking about the men who had fought with the two girls earlier.