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The hallway didn’t even loop correctly anymore.
Pomni noticed it before anyone said anything.
The colors were wrong. Not broken, but weird. The lights hummed and swirled in everyone’s ears behind their own thoughts.
Behind them, a colorful wall that had turned gray flickered like an old hallway light.
No one turned around.
“Okay,” Zooble said after a long, stretched silence. “Okay. So. That happened.”
No one responded.
Kinger was breathing too fast.
“I didn’t mean— I didn’t— I just kept typing and typing and I thought if I just—” His hands were shaking, hovering midair like he was still holding whatever had done it. “He always comes back. He always— he’s supposed to—”
“He’s not coming back,” Jax said.
It’s like everyone flinched.
Kinger looked at him like he’d been slapped. “You don’t know that.”
Jax didn’t look at him. He was staring past all of them, down the hallway that didn’t quite exist how it used to. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.”
Silence again.
Gangle made a small noise. It might’ve been a sob. Or her mask shifting.
Pomni swallowed. Her throat felt dry. Had she been hyperventilating? “We should… do something.”
“Like what?” Zooble snapped.
“I don’t know, we can’t just stand here.”
“Why not?” Jax said. “Seems like we’re doing a great job so far.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“Didn’t say it was.”
Kinger laughed.
It was wrong. Like there was nothing to be done.
“Well, we could wait,” he said, voice pitching upward. “We could just wait! He’ll fix it. He always fixes it. That’s— that’s the whole point, right? He fixes things—”
“He’s gone,” Zooble said.
Kinger finally stopped.
Gone.
Pomni felt like she was going to be sick.
“No,” Kinger said, quieter now. “No, that’s not— that’s not how this works. Things don’t die here. They just… change. Or break. Or— or—”
“Abstract,” Gangle whispered.
No one liked that.
“No,” Kinger said again, faster now, backing away from the word itself. “No, no, no, that’s different. That’s— that’s us. That’s when we—”
He cut himself off.
The hallway buzzed.
Pomni pressed her hands to her temples. “Can we not— can we not do this right now?”
“Do what?” Zooble asked.
“Think.”
That landed.
Jax huffed a quiet laugh. “Wow. Didn’t think I’d hear you say that.”
“I mean it,” Pomni snapped. “I can’t stand here and think about what this means or what happens next or if we’re stuck like this or if he’s actually gone because—”
Her voice cracked. She tried to swallow, but it hurt.
“Because I’m already here,” she finished, quieter. “I don’t need it to get worse.”
Zooble exhaled through their teeth. “God. Yeah. Okay. Yeah, I’m not doing this existential spiral thing either.”
“So what,” Jax said. “We just ignore it?”
Zooble turned to him. “I need a fucking drink.”
Jax blinked.
Zooble shot back. “I’m exploring options.”
“That’s not—”
“Wait,” Kinger said suddenly.
They all looked at him.
He wasn’t shaking as much.
His eyes were still wide, but something in him changed. He grabbed onto something solid in his brain.
“We can,” he said slowly. “We can make one.”
Zooble frowned. “Make what.”
“A drink.”
“That’s not how—”
“No, it is,” Kinger insisted, a little too quickly. “It is. Caine said— he said everything here runs on… on imagination. Constructs. Effort.” His voice steadied as he spoke, like he was building something solid under his own feet. “We just don’t try because he does it for us.”
Jax tilted his head. “So you’re saying we’ve been freeloading off the creepy ringmaster this whole time.”
“I’m saying we can do it ourselves.”
Pomni looked between them. “You mean like… create stuff?”
Kinger nodded. “Yes.”
Zooble crossed their arms. “Okay. Fine. Sure. Great. Love that. I’ll just” They gestured vaguely in the air. “Conjure a margarita out of sheer willpower.”
“Not like that,” Kinger said. “You have to focus.”
“On what? Lime?”
“On the idea of it.”
Jax snorted. “Looks like Kinger’s finally fully lost it.”
Zooble shot him a look, then sighed. “Whatever. If this works, I’m never thinking about anything serious again.”
They closed their eyes.
Nothing happened.
“Wow,” Jax said. “Incredible. Truly groundbreaking—”
“Shut up,” Zooble snapped.
They tried again.
Pomni watched, half-expecting the air to split open, or glitch, or something.
Instead, it… thickened.
Like the air was desublimating and trying to settle into place.
A shape flickered. Faded. Came back.
Zooble’s jaw clenched. “Come on…”
The smell hit first.
Sharp. Bitter. Alcohol.
Then the shape snapped into something real.
A counter. Crooked at the edges, colors a little gray. Glasses lined up unevenly. Bottles that didn’t have labels, just vague suggestions of them.
A bar.
They all stared at it.
“…Huh,” Jax said.
Zooble opened their eyes, blinked at what they’d made. “Oh shit.”
Kinger let out a shaky laugh. “See? I told you.”
The place wasn’t perfect. The floor didn’t quite connect to the walls. The lighting flickered too bright, like a dilapidated doctor’s office.
But it still was a bar.
And that worked for them.
Zooble walked up to it very cautiously, like it might disappear. They grabbed a glass. It stayed solid.
“Okay,” they said. “That’s promising.”
Pomni stepped closer. The smell was stronger here. It burned her nose.
“Does it actually… work?” she asked.
Zooble poured something. The liquid didn’t have a distinct color. It shifted when you looked at it too long.
“Only one way to find out.”
They took a sip.
Paused.
Then coughed. “Oh, that is fucking awful.”
Jax made a disgusted face. “Yeah, you can keep that to yourself.”
Gangle made a small, hesitant noise from behind them.
They all turned.
She was standing a little too stiffly, hands clasped together like she didn’t know where else to put them. Her mask had shifted a little.
“…Can I have one?” she asked, voice thin.
Zooble looked at her. Then at the glass in their hand.
Then back at the bar.
“God,” they muttered, setting the awful drink down like it had personally offended them. “No. Absolutely not. If that’s what everything tastes like, we’re all gonna lose our minds in five minutes.”
Jax leaned against the counter. “Bold of you to assume we haven’t already.”
Zooble ignored him.
“Okay. No. Let me try again.” They rubbed their face, already annoyed. “That was… that was half-assed. I didn’t actually think it would work, so I didn’t really try.”
“You looked like you were trying,” Jax said.
“I was humoring the concept,” Zooble snapped. “There’s a difference.”
Kinger nodded quickly, eager. “yes, exactly. You have to be deliberate. Specific. It’s not just alcohol. It’s the whole idea of a drink. The feeling of it. The taste, the— the—”
“The experience,” Zooble finished, sharper now, like they were latching onto it.
Kinger lit up. “Yes!”
Zooble exhaled slowly, turning back to the bar.
“Okay,” they said, quieter. “Fine.”
They closed their eyes again.
This time, they looked like they were in the zone.
Pomni watched more closely now. The way Zooble’s posture shifted. There was more intent. Like they were actually picturing something believing it would appear.
The bottles behind the counter flickered. It was a little smoother this time.
The light above them dimmed slightly, just enough to stop hurting.
The glass in Zooble’s hand clarified. The weird shifting color stilled into something consistently amber.
Zooble opened their eyes.
“…Okay,” they said.
They took a sip.
A pause.
Then a slow exhale..
Jax raised an eyebrow. “Well?”
Zooble didn’t answer right away. They turned the glass slightly, watching the liquid swirl like real liquid.
“It’s not terrible,” they said finally.
“That’s not a glowing review.”
“It’s drinkable,” Zooble shot back. “Which is a massive improvement.”
Gangle stepped closer, cautious. “Can I try it?”
Zooble glanced at her, then held the glass out.
“Yeah. Try it.”
Gangle took it with both hands, like it might disappear. She hesitated for a second, then tilted it toward her mask.
She stilled.
“…Oh,” she said.
Everyone watched her.
Her shoulders dropped, just slightly.
“Yeah, it’s real,” she murmured. “Not too bad.”
She took another small sip, slower this time.
Pomni watched.
The way Gangle held it. The way she didn’t rush.
Like she was trying to stay in that feeling.
“…Can I have one?” Pomni asked.
Her voice came out more eager than she meant it to.
Zooble looked at her, then at the glass, then back at the bar.
“Yeah,” they said. “I think I’ve got it now.”
They set Gangle up with her own glass first. It was more stable this time with less flickering at the edges. Then they reached for another.
This time, the process was cleaner.
Zooble slid it toward Pomni.
Pomni picked it up immediately.
She drank.
Jax watched her.
“Well?” he asked.
Pomni glanced at him. “It’s better.”
“That’s a low bar.”
“It’s good,” she corrected, a little defensive.
Jax hummed. “Dangerous.”
She ignored that and took another sip.
Kinger hovered near the edge of the counter, hands fidgeting again, but he was less frantic now.
“…Could I—” he started, then stopped. “I mean— should I—”
Zooble looked at him.
For a second, something flickered across their face. Empathy, maybe. Or just the memory of what had just happened.
Then they nodded once.
“Yeah,” they said. “Sure. Why not.”
Kinger stepped forward carefully, like approaching something sacred.
When they handed it to him, he didn’t drink right away.
He just stared at it.
“…I used to,” he said quietly. “Before. I think.”
No one interrupted.
“I don’t remember what it tasted like,” he added.
Pomni’s chest tightened a little.
Kinger lifted the glass.
Took a small sip.
“It’s not right,” he said softly. “But it’s close.”
Zooble leaned back against the counter. “I’m not a miracle worker.”
Kinger laughed. It was still a little shaky.
“No,” he said. “But this is good.”
Pomni glanced over.
Ragatha hadn’t moved.
She was sitting a little apart from them, hands folded neatly in her lap. Too neat. Too composed.
Like she’d decided something and wasn’t going to let herself waver.
“Ragatha?” Pomni asked.
Ragatha looked up, immediately softening. “Yeah?”
“Do you want one?”
A beat.
Ragatha tried her best to smile, but it looked stressed, “Yeah! I mean, what else am I going to do?” She asked with a very forced laugh at the end.
Zooble just turned back to the bar, making another.
Gangle had curled in on herself slightly, cradling her glass like it might anchor her there.
Kinger sat down, drink in both hands, staring into it like it might tell him something.
Pomni took another sip.
Then another.
The warmth was settling deeper now. Loosening something in her chest she hadn’t realized was clenched.
Zooble glanced up. “You’re gonna burn through that fast.”
“I know,” Pomni said.
Jax mockingly grinned. “Of course.”
Zooble gestured toward him with a fresh glass. “You want one or are you gonna keep talking shit?”
Jax looked at it.
Then at Pomni.
Then back at Zooble.
“Nah,” he said.
Zooble frowned. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“That’s new.”
Jax shrugged. “Somebody’s gotta stay functional.”
Pomni rolled her eyes. “You’re never functional.”
“Wow. Hurtful.”
But he didn’t reach for the drink.
Didn’t even look at it again.
He just leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, watching them all like he was keeping track of something.
Pomni caught him staring at her again.
This time, she didn’t look away immediately.
“…What,” she said.
Jax tilted his head slightly. “Nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re staring.”
“Of course I’m staring at you. You’re drinking that thing like it’s your job.”
“And?”
“And I’m entertained.”
“Shut up.”
But there wasn’t much bite in it.
She turned back to her glass anyway and took another sip. Well, it was more like a gulp. Her glass was almost empty already.
Jax watched her tilt it back like she was trying to beat it.
“Wow,” he said. “You’re not even pretending to pace yourself.”
Pomni wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a little sloppier than she meant to be. “I don’t want to pace myself.”
“Yeah, I can tell.”
She shot him a look. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” he said immediately.
Pomni squinted at him, like she was trying to decide if that was true. Then she turned away before she could think about it too hard.
“Hey,” she said, louder now, holding up her glass. “Refill.”
Zooble didn’t even look up. They were already halfway through making something else, hands moving slower than before but still steady enough.
“Jesus, give me a second,” they muttered.
“I am giving you a second,” Pomni said, even though she absolutely wasn’t.
Jax leaned back against the counter. “You’re gonna run them out of imaginary liquor.”
“Good,” Pomni said. “Then we can stop.”
“Stop what?”
She didn’t answer.
Zooble finally slid another glass toward her. This one looked darker. Heavier.
“Try not to inhale it this time,” they said.
Pomni took it immediately.
Didn’t respond.
Just drank.
Jax watched her throat move when she swallowed and watched the way her shoulders dropped after.
On the other end of the counter, Gangle was very still.
She hadn’t moved from where she was sitting, hands wrapped around her glass like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
“…It feels weird,” she said softly.
No one responded at first.
Her voice was quiet enough that it almost got swallowed by the low hum of the lights.
“Like it’s helping,” she added. “But I don’t know what it’s helping with.”
Pomni didn’t look over.
Jax did.
Zooble paused for half a second, then kept moving.
Gangle’s fingers tightened around the glass.
“I don’t feel better,” she said. “I just feel… less…” Her voice trailed off quietly mumbling.
That made Zooble stop.
They glanced up.
Gangle’s mask had shifted again. Not into anything recognizable.
“I don’t think I like that,” she said, voice smaller now.
Pomni took another big gulp, but it ended up being too big.
It caught in her throat and she coughed, bending forward slightly, laughing under her breath in between hacking fits like it didn’t matter.
“Then don’t drink it,” Jax said.
Gangle didn’t respond.
She stared down at the glass like it had said something to her.
“…I don’t want to think either,” she admitted.
That landed softer than anything else had.
For a second, no one moved.
Then Gangle lifted the glass again.
Her hands were shaking.
Zooble frowned.
“Hey,” they said. “You don’t have to—”
Gangle made a small sound and started to cry. Harder and less controlled than usual
“…I don’t remember my face,” she said.
Pomni stilled.
Jax’s expression shifted, just barely.
Gangle laughed.
It was worse than Kinger’s.
“I know I had one,” she went on, voice uneven. “I know I did, but I can’t— I can’t remember what it looked like and I keep trying and it just— it just—”
Her voice hitched.
The glass tipped slightly in her hands.
“I don’t want this one,” she said, quieter now. “I don’t want any of this, I just— I just want to—”
She didn’t finish.
Her grip slipped.
The glass hit the counter with a dull clink, tipping onto its side, liquid bleeding out in a slow, impossible spill that didn’t quite follow gravity.
Gangle swayed.
Zooble moved first.
“Whoa whoa whoa—”
They reached out, catching her just before she hit the floor.
Gangle didn’t react.
Her body went slack in their arms, mask tilted at a wrong angle.
“…Oh,” Zooble said.
Jax straightened slightly. “Did she just—”
“Pass out?” Zooble adjusted their grip, awkwardly holding Gangle up. “Yeah. Looks like it.”
Pomni blinked at them.
“…She’s fine,” she said.
It wasn’t a question.
Zooble glanced down at Gangle, then back up.
“…Yeah,” they said. “Probably.”
They didn’t sound fully convinced.
Carefully, they lowered her to the ground, propping her up against the side of the counter. Her head lolled slightly, but her chest still moved in small, steady motions.
“See?” Zooble added, like they were reassuring themself as much as anyone else. “She’s fine.”
Jax crouched slightly, peering at her.
“She’s out cold.”
“Good,” Pomni said, too quickly. “That means it works.”
Jax looked up at her.
“...What?”
“It means it works,” Pomni repeated, louder this time.
Her grip on her glass tightened.
Jax held her gaze for a second.
Then leaned back again, letting it drop.
“Sure,” he said.
Zooble stood there for a moment longer, staring down at Gangle.
Then they exhaled.
“Okay,” they muttered. “Okay. Yeah. Fine. She’s fine.”
They turned back to the bar.
Then took another sip anyway.
Kinger had drifted closer at some point.
He was sitting now, elbows on the counter, glass cradled between his hands like it might disappear if he let go.
“…It’s interesting,” he murmured.
Ragatha looked over at him.
“When you stop thinking about it,” he continued, eyes fixed somewhere just past the surface of his drink. “Everything gets quieter.”
He paused. No one spoke.
“…Fixing things is harder without him,” he said.
There it was again.
Him.
None of them said his name.
Ragatha swallowed. “Yeah.”
Behind them, Zooble let out a short, humorless laugh.
They were leaning against the counter now, glass already half empty.
“I mean, look at this place,” they added, gesturing vaguely around the bar. “We’re playing pretend bartender while the whole circus is” they cut themself off. “Whatever the hell it is now.”
Jax huffed. “Falling apart?”
“Was it not already?” Zooble shot back.
Jax shrugged. “Fair.”
Pomni had finished her second drink.
She didn’t remember doing it.
She stared down at the empty glass like it had betrayed her.
“…Another,” she said.
Zooble glanced at her.
Then at the counter.
Then back at her.
“…You sure?”
Pomni met their eyes.
Didn’t hesitate.
“Yeah.”
Zooble studied her for a second.
Then snorted. “Alright. Sure. Why not? It’s not like you can die anyway, right?”
The words hung there.
No one laughed. There was a bit of existential dread behind Zooble’s voice even if they won’t admit it.
They turned back to the bar, reaching for another glass. Their hands were just slightly less steady now.
Jax’s eyes flicked to Pomni again.
“Hey,” she said suddenly, turning toward him. “You should have one.”
Jax blinked. “No.”
“Why not.”
“Because I said no.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“It’s plenty of a reason.”
Pomni frowned at him, like that genuinely didn’t make sense.
“You’re just standing there,” she said. “Watching.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s weird.”
“I think you’re weird right now.”
She leaned a little closer. He almost leaned away, but didn’t.
“You’re always weird,” she said.
“Wow. Again. So Hurtful. I really didn’t know you were such a bully, Pomni.”
“Seriously,” she pressed, voice softer now, a little off. “Why aren’t you drinking?”
Jax didn’t answer immediately.
Pomni tilted her head, trying to catch his eyes.
“Are you scared?” she asked.
That did it. His eyes quickly flashed back to her.
Jax scoffed. “Of what.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Of this.” She gestured vaguely between them. The bar. The drinks. Everything. “Of not thinking.”
Jax’s expression flattened.
“I don’t need help with that,” he said.
Pomni hummed like she didn’t believe him.
Zooble slid another drink onto the counter, a little harder than necessary.
“There,” they said. “Knock yourself out.”
Pomni grabbed it.
Then, without looking, she nudged it toward Jax instead.
“Try it.”
Jax stared at the glass.
Then at her.
“No.”
Pomni didn’t pull it back.
Just left it there between them.
“…Come on,” she said.
Quieter now.
Not teasing. A little more intimate and sincere. That was what really scared Jax.
His jaw tightened.
Zooble was already pouring themself another, attention drifting.
Kinger and Ragatha had gone quiet again.
Gangle didn’t move.
Pomni nudged the glass again.
“Don’t be boring,” she said.
Jax exhaled slowly through his nose.
Then pushed himself off the counter.
“Yeah, no,” he muttered. “If I’m doing this, I’m not drinking whatever the hell that is.”
Pomni blinked at him. “What?”
Jax reached past her, grabbing an empty glass.
Zooble didn’t even look up.
“…You’re gonna make it?” Pomni asked.
Jax shrugged. “Apparently that’s the theme tonight.”
He stared down at the counter for a second.
Then frowned.
“…How the hell do we do this again?”
Kinger looked up.
“You have to focus,” he said quietly. “Not on the glass. On what it’s supposed to be.”
Jax didn’t look at him. “Yeah, yeah. I got that part.”
“You don’t,” Zooble muttered, already sounding a little off. “You didn’t listen the first time either.”
Jax ignored them.
“…So what,” he said. “I just think really hard about a drink?”
Kinger hesitated. “About the separate components! How they smell, taste, affect you.”
That almost made Jax laugh.
Almost.
“…Right,” he said.
He looked down at the empty space in front of him.
Didn’t close his eyes this time.
Just stared.
The liquid followed a second later, filling in unevenly before settling.
It looked normal.
More normal than anything Zooble had made.
Zooble squinted at it. “…Okay. Showoff.”
Jax picked it up, turning it slightly.
“Don’t flatter me,” he said.
Then took a sip.
No big reaction.
Pomni watched him too closely. “Well?”
Jax shrugged. “It’s a drink.”
“That’s it?”
“What did you expect?” he said. “Fireworks?”
Zooble snorted. “Would’ve been more interesting.”
Jax glared, but said nothing and took another sip.
“…Okay,” she said, like she’d proven something.
Jax glanced at her. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting anything,” she said, already smiling a little. “I’m just saying.”
“Don’t.”
“You didn’t want to, and now you are.”
Jax exhaled through his nose. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re drinking.”
He didn’t answer that.
Across the room, Zooble had stopped pretending they weren’t affected.
They were leaning harder against the counter now, movements slower, less precise. When they reached for another glass, it took them a second to actually grab it.
“…This is a bad idea,” they muttered.
No one told them to stop.
So they didn’t.
They poured again, not really paying attention to the conversations around them anymore.
Gangle didn’t move.
She was still where Zooble had left her, slumped gently against the side of the counter, mask tilted wrong.
Zooble glanced at her. The glance turned into a stare.
“…Hey,” they said, quieter now.
No response.
They pushed off the counter, unsteady, but upright, and crouched down beside her.
“Hey.”
Nothing.
They reached out, hesitated, then lightly tapped the side of her mask.
Still nothing.
“…She’s really out,” they said.
Kinger nodded faintly from where he sat. “Yes.”
Zooble stayed there for another second.
Then another.
“…Okay,” they muttered, pushing themself back up. “Cool. That’s fine. That’s normal.”
They looked around for a second like they were lost.
“I’m gonna go… uh… pass out in my room.” Zooble announced to no one in particular, “If it still exists. Someone give Gangle some water if she wakes up.”
They seemed to forget that this wasn’t real life, and Gangle won’t need water.
Ragatha gave Zooble a wave, and they walked off without an acknowledgement.
Pomni leaned against the counter a little too hard.
“Careful,” Jax said. “Wouldn’t want you joining her.”
He jerked his head slightly toward where Gangle had been left.
Pomni didn’t even glance over.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Yeah, you say that a lot.”
She let out a short laugh, but it didn’t sound like one. “Yeah, well. It’s either that or—”
She cut herself off.
Jax watched her for a second longer than necessary. Then took another sip of his drink.
“…Or what?” he asked.
Pomni shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Wow. Great answer.”
“Shut up.”
There wasn’t much heat behind it.
She dragged her finger along the rim of her glass slowly. The liquid inside sloshed unevenly.
“…This doesn’t fix anything,” she said after a second.
Jax snorted. “No shit.”
“No, I mean it.” She looked at him now. “This isn’t better. It’s just…”
“Yeah,” he cut in. “I know.”
That stopped her.
For a second, they just looked at each other.
Jax didn’t look away this time.
“…Then why are you drinking?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Because standing around sober while everything falls apart sounded worse.”
Pomni let out a quiet, humorless breath. “Yeah.”
Her grip on the glass tightened again.
“…There’s nothing now,” she said. “No games. No ‘next thing.’ No way out, probably. Just…” She gestured vaguely around them. “This.”
Jax didn’t argue.
Didn’t make a joke.
That was worse.
Pomni swallowed. “And you’re just fine with that?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’re acting like it.”
Jax tilted his head slightly. “What do you want me to do? Freak out? Cry? Start banging on the walls?” He took another sip. “Pretty sure that’s not gonna help either.”
Pomni stared at him.
“You don’t care,” she said.
It wasn’t an accusation.
It sounded like she was just learning this about Jax. For the twentieth time.
Jax’s expression flattened.
“That’s not true.”
“Then what is it?” she pushed.
He didn’t answer right away.
For a second, it looked like he might not answer at all.
Pomni leaned in without even realizing.
“Because it looks like you just decided none of this matters,” she said. “Like you couldn’t care either way, because leaving or staying are all the same to you.”
Jax laughed.
Too quick. Too sharp.
“Yeah, that sounds like me.”
Pomni didn’t laugh.
She kept looking at him.
Really looking.
And something about the way she didn’t let it go made the edge of his smile slip.
“You don’t get to do that,” she said, quieter now.
“Do what.”
“Act like nothing gets to you.”
Jax scoffed. “It doesn’t.”
“That’s a lie.”
Jax’s eyes flicked to hers.
For a second, something in his expression tightened just slightly.
“…You’re not as bad as you try to pretend you are,” she said.
Jax went very still.
“Or maybe you really think you are that bad.”
For a second, he didn’t have a comeback. Or a joke. Or anything.
He just stared at her. He was trying to figure out how she saw him so clearly through all of his bullshit. The bullshit that he believes too.
And maybe more importantly, why she was still looking.
“…Wow,” he said finally, voice lighter than it should’ve been. “You get drunk and suddenly you’re a therapist.”
Deflection.
But it came a second too late.
Pomni didn’t back off.
“Am I wrong?”
“Yes.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Jax took another drink like he won.
“Completely wrong,” he added. “In fact, I’m actually worse. You’re underselling it.”
Pomni huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the best one you’ll ever get.”
She leaned a little closer again.
Close enough now that if their minds were clear, they would quickly back away.
“Why do you do that?” she asked.
“Do what.”
“That.” She gestured vaguely at him. “Every time something gets even slightly close to you, you just” She flicked her hand away. “Turn it into a joke.”
Jax met her gaze.
“…Because it works,” he said.
“Does it?”
“Yeah.”
Pomni tilted her head slightly.
“No,” she said. “It just makes people stop trying.”
Jax’s jaw tightened just a little.
“There it is again,” he said, smirking, even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You're trying to psychoanalyze me.”
Pomni rolled her eyes. “I’m not—”
“You are.” He pointed at her with the glass. “And it’s very annoying, by the way.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“Yeah,” he said easily. “I am.”
At least he admitted that one, but his tone said: So what?
Pomni stared at him for another second.
Then shook her head, looking down at her glass again.
“…You’re so exhausting,” she muttered.
“And yet,” Jax said, “you keep talking to me.”
She let out a quiet breath.
“…Yeah.”
She looked away at the grayish walls for a second, then back to the counter in front of them.
“…I’m not going anywhere,” she said.
For a second, neither of them said anything.
Then Jax huffed a quiet laugh.
“Relax,” he said. “I didn’t ask you to.”
Just more deflection.
“…I know,” she said.
They didn’t look at each other. Just pretended to be more interested in the drinks than the conversation.
By now, Pomni’s head was still spinning, and her words had been a little slurred together for a while. Jax was still mostly intact.
Pomni had stopped drinking, but just rested her head on the table.
“I’m just going to… let the room take me now” She murmured from the table.
Jax squinted, “What does that even mean…?”
The only response he got was a groan from Pomni.
He rolled his eyes, but he didn’t leave. Or look away.
Pomni’s head lolled slightly to the side, a lazy grin tugging at her lips. “You… make it hard to be mad at you.”
Jax blinked. “…What?”
She gave a soft, almost imperceptible shrug. “Don’t… think too much.”
Jax stayed where he was, arms still crossed, watching the way her fingers loosened around the empty glass. The bar’s imperfect lights flickered overhead, casting shifting shadows across her face.
He hated how much he noticed it.
“…You’re really gonna pass out here?” he asked, voice low so it wouldn’t carry to the others.
“Mmm. Floor’s fine. Or the counter. Whatever.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, but there was no bite in it. “Idiot.”
Pomni didn’t argue. Her eyes were already half-closed, the alcohol pulling her under. But before she fully drifted, she mumbled something else.
“Stay…?” It was barely loud enough to be heard.
Jax went still. That’s only because she’s drunk, right?
Right.
He could’ve joked. Could’ve said something sharp about how she was the one clinging now, or how pathetic this whole night had been. Instead, he just looked at her for a long moment.
“Yeah,” he said finally. Almost reluctant. “Not going anywhere.”
Pomni’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, like that was all she needed to hear. Her breathing evened out, slow and unsteady, the kind of sleep that wasn’t restful but at least wasn’t thinking.
Jax didn’t move. He leaned back against the counter, glass still in hand, and took one last slow sip. It tasted like nothing.
He glanced around at the distorted circus around him.
“…We’re so fucked,” he muttered to no one in particular.
And when the lights dimmed just a little more, he didn’t bother fixing it, even though he could.
Some things you just have to sit with.