Grey Ahead

"You're fired."

Months passed, with Mark having worked dutifully the whole time, not a flaw to be seen in his conduct.

All his cumulative efforts led up to this one day, where he was suddenly dragged into the kitchen, and confronted by his boss.

Royce looked at the bartender's pale-black eyes without the slightest bit of emotion on his face, using an authoritative voice to suppress any argument.

But all that was a facade. Mark could see the clenched fist and the tensed arm, he heard the painful undertone in the old man's words.

And he wasn't about to get let off so easily.

"Sir… I have been working here for the past few years, doing my best to bring and keep our patrons. What did I- have I done anything wrong? Please… this job is everything to me, don't throw me away…"

He lied through his teeth.

With the brunette, survival had suddenly become much easier. Life essentials were provided to him without cost, letting him save up as much as possible within the past months. Though none of that was apparent to Royce, who knew the young man as a struggling employee with family problems in the hood.

That used to be Mark's situation, but such desperation was now in the past. Meeting the brunette truly was a blessing.

His attention was drawn to the old man who had just broken from a momentary trance. Mark inwardly clicked his tongue. He needed the old man to continue thinking while his ability took effect.

One thing he found while manipulating emotions is that the longer a sensation lasts, the more potent it becomes.

All Mark had to do was stall as long as he could if he wanted to have the greatest chances at keeping his job.

Royce looked back at his pale-black eyes, which were now filled with masterfully crafted desperation.

"N-no. You need to go Mark. I cant afford it anymore… the bar is barely making money right now. Please… leave."

The old man was unkempt, visibly slimmer than he was in the past with a few pounds likely having been lost from a strict rationing of his food. His eyes no longer radiated fierceness, but instead seemed weighed down by an indescribable fatigue.

It was ironic how Mark looked better than ever before, seemingly in his prime despite the poor wages he was paid these days.

Asking to stay would be nothing but hypocritical considering the circumstances.

"Please look at the big picture! You're not the only one who is struggling in this city. Everyone else is also barely making ends meet. So where will I go after you kick me out? Surely not to some other struggling business? No! I'll end up dying on the streets with no job, money, or food- nothing at all! Firing me is the same as killing me! Please find another way… I'll even accept lower wages if it means staying here!"

Pleading with the most heart wrenching voice he could muster, Mark inwardly rejoiced to see the old man tremble because of his words.

He shifted his ability, now focusing it on guilt more so than reluctance. Maybe guilt tripping would be the best solution to this predicament. Holding himself back from smiling and keeping his face desperate, he watched as Royce hung his head low in contemplation.

And was surprised when the old man suddenly raised himself with restored poise.

"I can't do that. You, are the one who needs to look at the bigger picture. Sure… your pay can be lowered… but what then? Prices are continuing to rise and my budget is going to become tighter still. I can lower them further, yet the same thing will happen until you eventually are working without cost…"

Royce violently slammed his hands on the kitchen counter.

"Meanwhile my family will have already starved because I will have paid you the money needed to feed them!"

He shook his head.

"Yes, firing you will essentially mark your death. I can't deny that! But you staying will slowly kill me, my wife! My child!"

Mark gave a show of sympathy while remaining unmoved inwardly. Sadly, he couldn't win in a fight for guilt. A different approach needed to be taken.

He thought for a few seconds before looking up resolutely.

"Firing me will worsen your situation. The customers come back here and buy our stuff because of me, not you. What do you think will happen when the person they knew best suddenly disappears? Keep in mind that you aren't the only bar in this city. There are surely places with lower prices, better service, and greater products! I am the key to the success of this bar!"

Mark also slammed his fists on the kitchen counter, utter passion lining his voice while he evoked rationality in the old man.

Everything he said was correct, with his service being a huge contributor to the establishment's survival- but his words were still deceitful.

No matter the effort he put in, with the current rate the world is rotting at, the bar with eventually fail. At this point he was no more than a leech that slowly drained the old man.

The question was if Royce would be bold enough to take the risk of throwing himself in the fire of a new position, or if he would remain hesitant and decide to pick the seemingly safer option.

Both were utterly dreadful to think of.

The old man remained still, not even daring to breathe under the horrible pressure he was enduring.

Seconds passed.

Minutes flew by.

The room was chilling, stagnation only adding to the cold sensation Mark felt.

Unwaveringly, he stared at his boss with dire passion. It was so close, he felt the concession just beyond him, indescribably close, yet just out of reach.

'Let me stay already!'

Royce looked up, into the pale-black eyes across from him.

His face distorted, seemingly trying to smile but unconsciously frowning at the same time, tears lined his eyes while he trembled.

"If you were being drowned by someone else, would you try to prolong your life by remaining still, or would you struggle to escape?"

'Shit.'

Mark paled.

But he didn't dare avert his eyes, keeping a stern expression, refusing to answer.

Tension filled the room as they fervently glared at each other.

Then, the old sighed.

Mark watched with unbridled intent.

Royce raised his hand.

He stretched his fingers.

And pointed at the door.

"Get out."

Mark tried to think of something, anything that would help, his mouth moving even faster.

"Sir-"

"Get the fuck out!"

The old man seemed ever-so close to using violence.

Mark slowly backed away, then turned around and hung his head. Dejection was his final, futile attempt.

But the outcome was already decided as the old man watched the receding figure, unmoving.

'Damn it!'

Mark left the bar with the door creaking behind him.

He wanted to kick it so badly.

As little as he currently needed the job, work was nevertheless becoming more priceless by the day.

Looking at the building, his only regret was the fact he was put in such an unstable position.

The next position he gets… if he manages to, it better be a seat of power.

Perhaps what annoyed him most during that whole confrontation is that no matter everything he did, the decision ultimately lied with Royce.

He scratched his chin.

'I mean, pulling a gun would have definitely done something.'

But violence only accomplished so much, he might as well rob the old man blind and get the authorities on him. The whole prospect was a lose-lose situation.

The bloody path of crime was the last thing he would resort to.

He sighed.

If only his ability was a bit more useful. Mind control would work. Hell, even a bit more potency in his emotion manipulation would be welcome.

Defeat and helplessness were truly butter pills to swallow.

How lucky that brunette is to be a landlord. Even though she will be in trouble when her tenants can't pay, that will be after a while.

And now, Mark was jobless.

He looked at the sky.

The engines of war continued to pump putrid filth into the world, accumulating it in dreadful proportions, snuffing out everybody on the side- everyone without the power to protect themselves.

In the distance, the fog seemed to darken under the omen of an approaching storm.

Looking to the side, he saw a man sprawled on the ground just a meter away from him. These past few months, more people have been descending into an unavoidable depravity. The main city was beginning to look like the hoods, with hopelessness spread throughout the streets like a ghastly disease.

The wind went from chilling to terribly frigid not too long ago with winter now approaching.

Amidst the cold, the man remained still, unaware of the dust blowing or the bugs crawling where he sat.

Mark refused to end up like that.