Chapter Text
One Year Later, City Underbelly
It was far too late at night for the music to be thumping this loudly, but Denis couldn’t stop himself from dancing to the rhythm. His boots landed on the dance floor in tandem to the beats of whatever song was currently playing. His upper half swayed to and fro, a beat behind but it didn’t matter when he was so in the groove. His legs pulsed in pain every time his heels touched the floor, and his arms felt like dead branches attached to the rotting base of a tree. But if he danced some more he wouldn’t think about any of that. Thus Denis danced until he couldn’t think about anything besides the crappy music encompassing him.
He didn’t even really remember how he got here. He had probably been invited out by his coworkers, Ethan or Evan and Gerald, and Denis was never one to say no to a night of partying. He steered clear of the bar top, but his coworkers knew him well enough now to know to not ask him to sit up there with them. Not when his body belonged on the dance floor. Swaying and cruising and hopping and spinning around without a care. Some people had shyly or boldly danced closer to him in a bid for his attention, but Denis wasn’t interested in taking anyone home tonight. Especially not tonight of all nights. Not when he’d been promoted at work after working tirelessly on a huge project for months. It might be a little conceited, but Denis wanted tonight to be all about him, and it would be.
Denis sauntered over to a plush booth on the other side of the club after his legs started to leaden a bit too much and haphazardly threw himself in. The table was sticky underneath his hands and the music still sounded like he was in the heart of the dance floor. There was no better setting to get piss drunk at. With that in mind, he quickly pulled out his phone and thumbed over to his work group chat.
Denis the Menace
it’s time for my drinks
1:03 AM
Coworker #1
what do you want?
1:04 AM
Denis the Menace
you already know
1:04 AM
Coworker #2
shots. got it.
1:05 AM
Denis the Menace
ly ❤️
1:06 AM
Coworker #1
why don’t you sit with us at the bar to drink them??
1:08 AM
Coworker #2
yo gerard chill. yk why.
1:09 AM
Coworker #1
Right. Sorry Denis I didn’t mean that
1:09 AM
Denis the Menace
ur good
1:11 AM
Coworker #2
your shots are being sent out now.
1:12 AM
The slight thud of a tray settling on top of the table sounded seconds after Denis’ eyes read the most recent text. He looked up and was greeted with the pleasant sight of a smiling waiter and alcohol with his name on it.
“For Denis?” He asked, gesturing at the small array of shots sat neatly on the tray.
“Yep, that’s me!” Denis beamed at him.
The waiter smiled back and primly set the four shots before Denis. “Your friends say congratulations by the way.” He added before he grabbed the tray and sauntered off. Denis watched him walk away for a moment before he remembered himself—it was time for shots.
Denis grabbed a shot and one by one, tipped his head back, and gulped down the liquid without pausing. The alcohol burned the back of his throat and his body buzzed in the way he liked. He licked his lips free of any residue left as he set the last shot glass back down.
From where he was sitting he only had an old brick wall to look at. He could faintly hear the sounds of the television blaring close behind him, but his attention was snagged on the plethora of stickers plastered on the wall near the door. Some were so bright and pristine that Denis could only imagine they were slapped on the wall tonight. Others were more desaturated and peeling at the edges. Denis liked those stickers more.
Somewhere between the first four shots and the last four, Denis ended up on the dance floor again. He wasn’t sure what time it was now and he was pretty sure his phone was dead. Or maybe his fingers were too clumsy to turn it on. It didn’t matter either way to Denis when his body was already moving. The sweat of all the writhing and gyrating bodies around him was cloying, but not in an overwhelming way. It was comforting like his grandma wrapping a knitted blanket that smelled of old-people and mothballs around him. In his drunken stupor the scent of latex and leather and sweat and fruity cocktails was even more comforting.
Relaxing, Denis loosened his shoulders and elongated his arms. His legs could reach the other side of the room. His hips were fluid and swaying away from the rest of his body. Something short swung close to him, a blur of red and white and brown. Denis pivoted his body closer to them and felt like an inexperienced captain steering a large ship. Red, white and brown moved even closer like waves crashing against rocks. Or like sharp rocks jutting out of the water that the crew couldn’t see until their boat was already sinking. When red, white and brown languidly reached up and smoothly slid their arms around Denis’ neck, clinging close, he wondered which interpretation would be true.
Denis shortened his arms and lowered them to settle on red, white, and brown’s hips. Their waist was warm underneath his hands and they smelled like something vaguely familiar. He couldn’t keep calling them red, white and brown in his head so he finally angled his head down to get a proper look at their face. He was too drunk to keep in the loud gasp that left his mouth.
It was Albert. In his arms, dancing with him past midnight at some seedy club. He was even wearing his same stupid red shirt that Denis had seen him wear so often he had thought it was the only shirt Albert owned.
“...Albert?” Denis’ voice was thin. Albert backed up from the enclosed space of Denis’ arms and his hands were involuntarily dislodged from Albert's waist.
“Excuse me? Albert? Do I look like a fucking Albert to you?” Albert accused. Except that couldn't be Albert, because this voice was low and deep and deeply insulted. But it had to be Albert. That was his face that Denis still hadn’t been able to look away from. The same redness in his cheeks, plumpness of his lips, distinct nose, and shaggy mop of hair. Even the taunting look in his eyes was the same. Fury licked up fast Denis' spine at Albert’s gall.
“What are you talking about, Albert? You really think you can waltz in here and show your face like this?” Denis yelled, vision narrowing until the only thing he could see was Albert in front of him. Albert, who was already turning around like Denis would let him walk away without answering him. Denis quickly clamped a hand around Albert’s arm before he could walk off.
“Dude, you can’t just walk away from me. You disappear for a year and then show your face like this? Aren’t you even a little ashamed? No texts, no calls, no letters that you're okay, but you decide to make your grand entrance in a club? On my big night? Really?” Denis should definitely stop talking now, but his loose mouth was already forming the words before his brain thought of the sentences. His fingers dug harder into Albert’s skin.
“You must’ve planned this, huh? You must’ve seen how much attention I was getting and your tiny, little ego couldn’t stand it. I’m so fucking sick of you! You just couldn’t stay missing for one more fucking day!” Denis was screaming now but he couldn’t stop. Albert’s arm would definitely be sporting a nasty bruise tomorrow.
Distantly, Denis registered that someone yelled to stop the music. Not so distantly, he could feel several pairs of hands tugging at him to release Albert. He stubbornly held on. These random strangers didn’t know the history he had with Albert, and they would be on his side if they had any idea.
“Denis, dude! Let go of him!” A man frantically yelled, tugging harshly at his arms. Denis finally relinquished his hold on Albert, but that doesn’t mean he was done with him. He directed his attention to the small blur of the man standing next to him.
“I just need to talk to him, man.” Denis falsely promised.
“You weren’t talking to him—look at him!”
Denis looked and balked. A teary-eyed blonde man was viciously staring back at him. Thin in both facial features and stature, and wearing an all-white outfit. Very clearly not Albert. Denis’ hands started to tremble and the hearty lunch he’d treated himself with today gurgled dangerously in his stomach.
“Listen, I thought you were—" Denis started before he was abruptly interrupted.
“Whatever, man. If you’re not interested, there’s other ways to let people know.” The blond man bit out, turned sharply on his heel, and marched off with a sneer firm on his face. Denis gaped at his retreating back.
“Denis, you gotta go home, man. You’ve had way too much to drink. We’ll call you a taxi, okay?” The same man from before said and it was only now that Denis realized that it was one of his coworkers. He could see the face of his other coworker behind him, face pinched in a mix of pity and worry. Denis felt his face flush in humiliation, but hopefully the lights were too dim for either of them to notice. He tipped his head back to avoid both pairs of eyes of his coworkers and looked at the ceiling. He listened to the hurried conversation between his coworkers with half an ear.
“Gerard, can you call a taxi for him?”
“Yeah, doing that right now.”
“Great, thanks. I’m gonna take him outside for some fresh air.”
“Alright, man. I’ll probably be out soon, too. Gotta hit the bathroom first.”
As soon as their short conversation ended, Denis felt a hand gently but firmly pushing at his back. He allowed himself to be pushed through the throng of people who had gathered to watch the altercation and out through the front door.
The late night air was crisp, and it sobered Denis up like a cool glass of water. His coworker pushed him farther until they were stationed on the far right corner of the street, right before the dark alleyway, but still in the dim glow of the club’s outside lights. They stood together in silence. Denis, without a ceiling to lock his gaze onto, looked up at the night sky. It was a smooth black ocean, and no star was bright enough tonight to sear a hole through the thick blanket of pollution their city weaved. He glanced down at his coworker, taking in the relaxed stature, short dark hair, wide green eyes and numerous piercings. Ethan, his mind vaguely registered.
The stillness of the outside was broken by the slight shuffling of his coworker smoothly taking out a box of cigarettes, smacking them, and then the sharp flick of a lighter being thumbed on. A second later and Denis could inhale the thin curl of secondhand smoke.
“You want one?” He asked and Denis heard the loose cigarettes jostling around in the box. Denis sighed and figured tonight couldn’t get any more messed up. He silently held out his hand. The sound of a spark again and then something warm was pressed into his open hand.
“Thanks.” Denis murmured as he brought the lit cigarette up to his parted mouth. He licked his lips before he stuck the cigarette in, taking a long drag before exhaling.
They smoked in the quiet of the night, but the nicotine was enough to shake Denis' worry. Of course Albert wasn’t actually there, he harshly reminded himself, he’s long gone. He would have to relax a little on his drinking so he didn’t make such an obvious mixup like that again. At least he didn’t get kicked out of the bar, technically. His coworker’s sudden voice drew him out of his swirling thoughts.
“So, do you wanna talk about it?”
Denis tapped at his smoking cigarette and thought about what his coworker could mean. “What are you talking about?” He settled on.
“You know…mistaking that man for someone named 'Albert.'"
“Just thought I recognized someone I used to know. Clearly I was wrong.”
“Clearly. You scared the shit out of that guy!”
“I know. I didn’t mean to. All the shots and lights and shit messed with my vision.” Denis snapped.
“Hey, man, don’t get mad at me. That’s why Gerard and I are here to make sure you don’t do anything too crazy. That’s what friends are for, you know?”
That was awfully nice of him, and Denis forced himself to soften to say, “Thanks, Ethan. I appreciate it a lot.”
“What?”
“Thanks?”
“No, what did you just call me?”
“...Ethan? Your name?” Even as Denis said that, uncertainty crept into his voice.
“Wow. We’ve been working together for how long and you still can’t remember my name? It's Frank. I’m going back inside to check on Gerard–you can stay out here and wait for your fucking taxi. That Gerard called for you, but you probably don’t know his name either, you piece of shit.” Frank furiously hissed out, body bodily bumping into Denis’ as he stormed back inside the club. He gave Denis no chance at rebuttal, but it’s not like he could’ve said anything that would’ve saved himself.
He could only watch Frank’s quickly retreating back with a cocktail of humiliation and ill-placed anger mixing in his stomach along with all the tequila he drank tonight. He’d have to do something to make it up to Frank. Gerard, too, because Denis didn't really remember his name either and Frank would definitely be telling him everything that happened. Well, at least you didn't punch anyone tonight so you’re only half a dick, Denis tried to comfort himself. It didn’t work, but his cigarette was still lit and its heat provided him some semblance of comfort. Denis took another long drag and looked back up at the sky. Still nothing up there looking down on him. He tapped on his bummed cigarette and resigned himself to waiting for his taxi alone in the cold.
By the time the small taxi smoothly pulled over, Denis’ was sure his goosebumps would be a permanent skin condition. The window on the passenger’s side creakily rolled down, and a wobbly voice called out, "Denis?”
Maybe Gerard chose the oldest taxi driver currently alive to get back at him. Frank definitely would’ve encouraged that idea, knowing those two little fuckers were as thick as thieves. Denis couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it, but he’d definitely be cussing them both out tomorrow. Imagining that lifted up his spirits enough to confidently call back, “Yeah, that would be me.”
He dropped his cigarette on the concrete and haphazardly snubbed it out with his shoe. He was wearing one of his nicer pairs tonight, so he couldn’t risk scuffing them up. He lifted himself up off from the wall and walked the short distance to the taxi. The driver hadn’t said anything more, so Denis took that as his cue to get in. He almost pulled his arm clean off opening the door, but eventually he managed to pry it open and quickly bundled himself in. Emphasis on bundled because a car of this size was not made for a man of his size. Gerard and Frank definitely fucked with him. As soon as he buckled his seatbelt, the driver put his foot on the pedal and they peeled away from the sidewalk and onto the street. The driver had left the passenger window down, so Denis could hear the sound of the night air whooshing by. It was calming, especially because the driver hadn’t moved to turn on the radio. Denis didn’t really mind that, though, when music would probably be way too much for him right now. He just wanted to go home, sleep off this awful night, and forget about everything by tomorrow morning.
“So,” the driver began, “rough night, tonight?”
Denis humorlessly chuckled as he turned his head to look out the dark window. “You could say that again.”
“How come?”
“I…don't really want to talk about it.”
“What’s the harm? You don’t know me. Chances are we'll never see each other again after this.”
Denis considered this. It was true, and maybe it would be nice to finally get some things off his chest. He sighed, but he relented and replied, “I did some stupid stuff tonight. Probably ruined more relationships.”
“Oh, really? What, did you cheat on your girlfriend or something? If you did, that’s a real dick move.”
“No, no, nothing like that. I just…made it obvious I don’t care about some friends as much as they care about me.” That was way too honest of Denis, but his addled mind couldn’t stop himself in time. The driver hummed in thought.
“Some friendships will be more important to you than others. Despite that, you should still cherish any friendship you have.”
“Yeah…you’re right." Denis relented. "Guess what they say about age making you wiser is right, huh?"
“Oh, yeah! I have loads of more advice, would you like to hear?”
Denis had no idea how much longer they had until they got to his apartment, so he might as well be entertained on the way there. “Sure, man, why not?”
The old man laughed joyfully at that, and Denis was sure he’d be slapping his knee too if he didn’t have to have both hands on the steering wheel right now. Still laughing, he started to rapid-fire his advice, “Never buy fish on Tuesdays. Always bring an umbrella with you no matter where you go. Someone is always listening. Avoid stores on Fridays if you can help it. Never buy insurance. Keep a bag of candy on you at all times. Feed stray cats when you can. Don’t talk to salespeople; they'll swindle you before you can blink. Don’t trust people with easily rhyme-able names. Always be kind. Trust trains more than you trust planes. Everyone on the road wants to kill you. Never take anything undeserved. Always be nice to minimum-wage workers. Skipping instead of walking will do wonders to improve your mood. Few friends stick around for long, so cherish every friendship even if it’s short.”
Denis was dizzy with all the information the taxi driver dumped on him. When he said he had wisdom to give, Denis didn’t expect a list like that. At least there were some good things Denis could parse out like being kind, feeding stray cats, and cherishing each friend. He wasn’t sure what to make of no-fish Tuesdays and not trusting planes, but he decided it was an incredibly good thing that he wouldn’t be running into this man ever again. He laughed, but it lacked the genuine cheeriness of the driver’s laugh, “Ha ha. That’s a pretty interesting list. I’ll have to keep everything in mind.”
“Ha ha, I’m glad you agree! I didn’t mention the most important thing, though.”
Denis wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what would be considered the most important thing to a man like this, but his Canadian politeness was present even when drunk so he responded, “Oh, what’s that?”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” His voice had lost the overfamiliar warmth and Denis felt ice spread in his chest at the coldness.
“...Excuse me?” Denis asked, finally turning away from the window and looking towards the driver. His face was shrouded in the darkness of the night, but every so often they would drive past a streetlight that would illuminate his face in a quick wave. When the light passed over his eyes Denis was able to see the ghostly paleness of his skin and the system of pink veins running underneath. When the light passed again Denis was able to see how dark his eyes really were. Denis violently flinched backwards in his seat when they passed a third light post and those black eyes slid to fixate intensely on him. It was like the eyes of the fish in the supermarket. His horrified face reflected back at him.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He repeated without taking his eyes off Denis.
Denis gulped. His hands were sweaty and he felt wrong-footed. Yet the old man couldn’t mean what Denis thought he meant, right? He repeated his earlier question, but his voice was faint. “Excuse me?”
“Why didn’t you say anything, back there?” His eyes were still staring.
No, he couldn’t know, Denis rationalized to himself, how could he possibly know? His efforts did little to stop the rapidly rising panic swelling inside him like the climax of an orchestral concert. Play it cool, Denis, there’s no way this random taxi driver knows anything, he reassured himself. He forced his voice to come out steady when he replied, “I’m sorry, man, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Son, what are you talking about? We just drove past your stop and you didn’t say anything. Kids these days, always not paying attention to their surroundings.” He lightly scolded, but the warmth had returned to his tone. Denis was still frozen in place. He willed himself to move.
“Oh, ha ha!” Denis laughed and hoped he sounded normal and not incredibly freaked out. “My bad. It’s so dark out, it’s hard to see where we are. Ha ha.”
“Ah, I figured! Don’t worry, I just gotta turn around this block and we’ll be there in no time. No extra charge because your friend already paid.” He chuckled and Denis was finally able to peel his eyes away from his silhouette.
Denis’ body was still thrumming with panic, but it was less than five minutes when the taxi was rolling to a stop.
“Thanks so much for the ride. Have a good night.” Denis bid farewell and then quickly, but not too quickly, reached for the door handle to let himself out. He had half his body free when the driver abruptly shouted, “Wait! You’re forgetting something!”
Denis only had his phone and wallet on him, so he had no idea what he could be leaving behind. Regardless, he didn’t feel like dying tonight, so he looked over his shoulder at the seat. A pristine white envelope sat on the worn leather where Denis’ butt had been. He stilled, and nervously glanced over at the taxi driver. He was already staring at Denis, face pallid and eyes dull.
“Oh, yeah! Ha ha. How could I have forgotten this?” Denis quickly acquiesced, grabbing the letter and tucking it into the back pocket of his pants before he scurried the rest of the way out of the taxi. He slammed the door shut and stepped further onto the pavement where he was safer. He half-expected the driver to shout something at him, but the car drove off in silence. Denis waited until the taxi had fully disappeared from view before he felt comfortable enough to turn around and hurriedly climb up the rickety staircase to his fourth floor apartment.
His cat, Mr. Meows a Lot, was waiting for him near the front door. Denis’ chest hadn't gone back to normal, but he was able to relax at the sight of his cute little cat. Well, not so little thanks to all the treats Denis fed him, but certainly still cute. He rubbed himself across Denis’ legs while purring, and Denis simply had to bend down to give him some well-earned scratches. He kept petting until Mr. Meows a Lot decided he had had enough affection and slinked away to nap in a corner somewhere.
Denis toed off his shoes while the letter burned a hole in his pocket. The driver had to have planted it because there’s no way someone got close enough to Denis to slip it into his pants while he was dancing. But why would he do that? Denis was so tired from tonight, but he doubted he’d be able to get any sleep at all without opening the letter first. Sighing heavily, he lumbered over to his small dining table. It was sat beside the biggest windows in his apartment that he always kept open, so at least he’d be able to enjoy the night breeze.
He sat down like he weighed more than he actually did and pulled on the cord of the small desk lamp he kept on the table. It was mainly for when he was working late at night and didn’t feel like sitting in his empty living room and not when he was opening potentially laced letters, but at least he’d have his curiosity soon satisfied. He slid his thumbnail across the top of the envelope until it was opened all the way. He could see the paper already peeking out. Denis breathed in, held it for a count of three seconds, and then exhaled. It was just a piece of paper.
He pulled the letter free and the first thing he noticed was that it was smooth, thick and had a bit of weight to it. So expensive paper. Maybe the taxi driver really wanted to go all out on creeping people out, Denis idly thought. Then, his eyes widened when he actually looked at and registered what was written on the letter.
What the fuck, Denis eloquently thought.