“Why are you telling me this?” Mioray asked, almost automatically, the words spilling out before he could fully comprehend what he had just heard or even what he was saying.

  It was the evening of August 29th, Mioray's twenty-first birthday. He was now officially the age of majority. He should have been happy about it. In fact, he had been, right up until now. But the news he’d just received was devastating, completely overshadowing the joy of the day.

  His parents sat beside him on the sofa. His dad gently wrapped an arm around his mom’s shoulders while she held Mioray’s hand. The worry etched into their faces made it clear this announcement hadn’t been easy for them, but Mioray couldn’t bring himself to care. His blood was boiling, and a hollow ache opened up inside his chest, suffocating him. Life wasn’t fair. His entire life had been a lie. A moment ago, he’d believed everything was fine with his family. But now? Now he knew the truth. He was adopted. The people sitting beside him were not really his parents.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Mioray repeated, his voice now cold as ice. He had always had a healthy, loving relationship with his parents, but suddenly, these two people beside him felt like total strangers.

  “Mioray,” his father began, shifting uncomfortably, “your mother and I agreed long ago that we would tell you the truth when you were older. You have to understand, it was never our intention to deceive you.”

  “And yet you did,” Mioray snapped, yanking his hand away from his mother’s and standing up, his movements sharp with anger. “You didn’t want to lie to me, so you made my whole life a lie instead?”

  He didn’t even know why he was so angry. He had never felt this upset before. Deep down, a part of him knew he shouldn’t hate his parents. My adoptive parents, he corrected himself bitterly. They had always been there for him, had always loved him. But right now, he couldn’t think rationally. He felt like a small, frightened animal.

  “Mioray, no. It’s not like that,” his mother pleaded, her voice soft with worry. “This doesn’t change how we feel about you. You’re our son, and we love you with all our hearts. We didn’t tell you before because we wanted you to have a happy, carefree childhood. We never wanted to hurt you. But you have a right to know the truth, and we didn’t want to keep it from you forever.”

  Mioray grabbed his hair in frustration:

  “Maybe it doesn’t change anything for you, but it changes everything for me!” he shouted. “What did you expect?! Is this your idea of a birthday present? Well, thanks a lot! I don’t even know where to start. I feel betrayed. By you, by whoever my biological parents are, by the whole world, really! What do you even know about them? Why did they leave me? No, you know what, screw it! This is just too much. I can’t do this right now.”

  He turned and rushed toward the apartment door.

  “Mioray, where are you going?” his dad called after him, hurrying to follow.

  “What does it matter to you?” Mioray was already at the door to the building’s hallway. “Just leave me alone!”

  “Mioray, please, don’t do anything stupid. I understand if you need time to process this, but please, don’t just leave. Your mother and I will be worried. We can go if you need space, just… Please, stay safe.”

  Mioray didn’t respond. He didn’t stop for a second as he bolted down the staircase to the exit. He vaguely heard his dad’s voice calling after him, asking him to come home safely, but calling that place home no longer made sense to him. Not now. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. His life had been turned upside down in a matter of seconds. Would it ever feel normal again?

  Outside, the clear sky was brushed with soft pink hues, and the sun had just begun to graze the rooftops of the city’s tallest buildings. End of the summer meant that the days were still much longer than the nights. Mioray wandered aimlessly, without a destination in mind. Earlier, he’d had plans to meet up with his friends for a birthday celebration, but now, the thought of partying felt unbearable.

  All he could think about was the mystery of his real parents. Why had they abandoned him? Were they drug addicts? Had they died? Or had they just not wanted him? The possibilities raced through his mind, each one more painful than the last. It didn’t really matter what the answer was. Even if his adoptive parents knew the truth, it wouldn’t ease the pain, it would only make the wound deeper. Mioray wasn’t living his life anymore. His own life had been cut short long ago, and he had been living someone else’s ever since.

  After a while, Mioray realized he had wandered almost to the far end of the city. The sun was no longer visible on the horizon, though it was still bright out. He didn’t have his phone with him, so he could only guess how much time had passed. Probably a couple of hours. Mioray had cooled down a bit, but he wasn’t ready to head home just yet. It was still his birthday, after all. A small celebration, even if it was just by himself, wouldn’t hurt. No one would understand how he felt right now anyway. Better to entertain himself.

  He glanced around and noticed a small bar with darkened windows and a neon sign above it that read: At Life’s End. Mioray snorted.

  Well, that’s an optimistic name for a bar, he thought. Who would want to visit a place like this? Probably only those who feel desperate or doomed. Just like me today. The moment he saw the sign, he felt a strange pull toward the bar, as if he had to find out what it offered. He looked both ways before crossing the street, but there weren’t any cars. The street was eerily empty, not even a passerby in sight. No birds chirping, only the faint buzz of the flickering neon sign. It looked like it hadn’t been changed in years, fittingly at life’s end.

  Humoring himself, Mioray entered the bar. Right away, the atmosphere felt outdated, like a place lost in time or removed from reality. He carefully made his way to the counter, avoiding eye contact with the few other patrons present. They went silent the moment he stepped in, all eyes turning to inspect the unfamiliar face. The bar was much larger than it had appeared from the outside, with barely any lighting, giving it a shadowy, almost surreal ambiance.

  It felt like an eternity before Mioray reached the bar stand. The bartender had her back to him, quietly polishing crystal glasses.

  “I’m listening. How can I help?” she asked in a slow, soothing voice as she turned to face him.

  Mioray was momentarily stunned by what he saw. The bartender was striking, her entire look defined by sharp black-and-white contrasts. She wore a crisp white shirt, neatly tucked into a short black skirt, with a loose black bowtie hanging from her neck. An unbuttoned black vest added a touch of elegance.

  Her waist-length hair was a lustrous black, shimmering with subtle violet undertones under the dim light. It cascaded down her back in sleek, smooth waves, though a few strands rebelliously stuck out. A fringe of bangs framed her forehead, drawing attention to her heart-shaped face. She was breathtakingly beautiful, and Mioray’s heart began to race, his pulse quickening. He could imagine watching her for hours, mesmerized by the way she worked – or even just stood there, smiling at him with her half-lidded eyes. He knew he wouldn’t get bored.

  But that kind of moment – just the two of them, alone – would only be possible in a world where no one else existed. As long as there were others, they’d always find a way to intrude.

  “What are you staring at, weirdo? See a ghost or something?” one of the patrons yelled, causing the others to burst into laughter. “If you’re not going to order anything, then get lost!”

  Mioray tore his gaze away from the bartender with great difficulty. He noticed there was another bartender present, watching him, but it wasn’t him who had yelled. Glancing around, Mioray took in the bar again, and this time, he felt a more ominous vibe. The patrons didn’t look friendly at all. There was a dangerous edge to them.

  There were more people than he’d initially realized, and they were a strange, diverse group. At one table, two men sat, one of them sporting a jagged scar that ran across his nose. Nearby, a middle-aged woman puffed on a thick cigar, flanked by two younger men who looked identical, likely twins. Mioray even spotted a young girl, no older than thirteen, sitting with a man dressed like a monk. Probably her father, Mioray hoped. And finally, there was a group of six who looked rough, like criminals. Mioray wouldn’t be surprised if they were all armed.

  The guy who’d shouted at him was probably right. Maybe he should just leave.

  “Don’t listen to them,” a soft voice whispered in his ear. He flinched as the bartender’s warm breath tickled his skin. She had leaned across the bar toward him, her hand gently but firmly grasping his. She wasn’t letting go, and he wasn’t trying to pull away. “I won’t let them lay a finger on you. Just pick your poison, and I’ll grant you your wish.”

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  His heart pounded in his chest, his pulse loud in his ears. Mioray had tried alcohol before, but he wasn’t sure what to order now. Pure drinks weren’t to his taste, and as for cocktails he knew next to nothing. Maybe a beer? But there were so many kinds... The bartender waited patiently, a small smile playing on her red lips. She’d promised to protect him from the others, but Mioray wasn’t so sure about that. He got his first warning, but he still found himself speechless.

  “Don’t worry,” she said slyly, still smiling. “If you’re not sure, I can suggest something. Just tell me a little about yourself.”

  “Well...” He felt a few beads of sweat slide down his forehead. “I don’t know. Did you know that in a group of twenty-three people, there’s a fifty percent chance that at least two of them share the same birthday?”

  “No, I’ve never heard that before,” she replied, her interest piqued.

  “Yeah... but there are only sixteen people here, so I guess that doesn’t work,” Mioray paused, then awkwardly asked, “Is it your birthday today?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said with a teasing smile.

  “No? Well, it’s mine, actually.”

  “Is that so? Then we definitely have to celebrate,” she winked, reaching for a glass. “I’ll make you something special. What’s your name?”

  “Mioray.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mioray. My name is Erinel.”

  By her appearance, Erinel looked older than Mioray, probably by about ten years. Yet, she spoke to him as an equal, her friendliness putting him at ease. Mioray felt the need to step up, to act confident. There was no reason to feel awkward.

  While he tried to bolster his own resolve, Erinel moved to the back, retrieving the necessary bottles from a shelf lined with colorful glass. With the counter no longer obstructing her, he noticed the sleek black tights and gleaming heels that completed her look. Bottles in hand, Erinel returned to the counter, busying herself with his drink and humming an unfamiliar melody. The tune was oddly soothing, like it was designed to calm him. By the time she finished, Mioray had forgotten about the storm of emotions he’d been wrestling with earlier. He was captivated, drawn into the warmth of her hazel eyes, which glimmered with subtle hints of gold.

  “Here you go, Corpse Reviver No. 2,” Erinel said, placing a glass with an inverted cone-shaped bowl in front of him, garnished with a bright orange wedge. The drink was a cloudy, pale yellow, reminding him of lemon juice. “I have a feeling you’ll like it.”

  “Thank you,” Mioray murmured, taking a tentative sip.

  The flavor was a perfect balance of sweet and sour, with a strong hint of citrus. It did taste like lemon, just as he expected. The alcohol, though present, was mild, barely noticeable. He could easily imagine himself downing five or six more of these.

  So, why are you alone on your birthday?” Erinel asked once Mioray had finished his first drink.

  By then, he felt relaxed, so much so that he had tuned out the bar’s other patrons. The occasional bursts of laughter, shouts, or even threats didn’t seem to reach him anymore. It was as if the rest of the bar existed in a different reality, separate from the one he and Erinel now shared. When other patrons wanted a drink, they went to the male bartender, never bothering Erinel. Almost as if they sensed the unspoken boundary, reluctant to intrude.

  “It’s a long story,” Mioray replied, even though it wasn’t. He didn’t want to burden her with his problems or appear like a sad little boy seeking pity. “But it’s not a big deal. You were right, I really like the drink. What did you call it again? Corpse Reviver No. 2? What happened to the first one?”

  “Nothing dramatic,” Erinel said with a soft, bittersweet smile. “It’s just a variation of the original. But no one really remembers how it’s made anymore. After all, this cocktail was created almost three hundred years ago.”

  She touched a finger on her left hand, and Mioray noticed a ring, a large jewel the size of a walnut that glowed faintly, almost ghostly. The ring didn’t quite fit her otherwise elegant image. It seemed out of place. Why would Erinel wear something like this? She didn’t strike him as someone lacking in taste. Perhaps the ring held sentimental value.

  “It’s a gift from a friend,” she said unexpectedly, her voice soft.

  “What?” Mioray jolted slightly. How long had he been staring at her ring? He tried to compose himself but realized he must have been gawking for a while.

  “The ring. It’s ugly, isn’t it?” Erinel smiled, twirling the oversized jewel. “But it’s grown on me. I don’t think I could ever take it off.”

  “Must be from someone special.”

  “Yes, very dear,” she said quietly, taking his empty cocktail glass. “We probably won’t meet again.” Her voice lingered on those last words for just a second. “Care for another drink?”

  The bar was now immersed in the slow, sultry notes of jazz, the music curling through the air like smoke. Mioray didn’t hesitate this time, watching as Erinel prepared the next cocktail with the same meticulous care. Her focus was intense, as though she was crafting more than just a drink. It was her magnum opus. Her pupils dilated as she measured each pour with precision.

  That’s when it hit Mioray – he didn’t have any money on him.

  “Don’t worry, it’s all on me,” Erinel laughed, her voice melodic and perfectly in sync with the rhythm of the music. “Consider it my gift to you.”

  Mioray thanked her, feeling a bit awkward.

  “But how do you know I’m not lying about it being my birthday?” he asked. “I don’t even have my ID on me. I could be underage.”

  “I’m sure you’re not,” she replied smoothly, setting the drink in front of him. “And I don’t think you’re lying.”

  “Why?”

  “Just a hunch.” Erinel gently brushed his cheek. The warmth of her touch sent a surge of heat through him. “You don’t seem like a man who’d lie to me. Right?”

  “I guess,” Mioray stammered, though he wasn’t sure if the words even came out. His breath had caught in his throat.

  “See?” she smiled, her lips curling in that familiar, captivating way. “You shouldn’t worry about it. Just enjoy your time here. It’s not like you have anywhere else to be, do you?”

  Mioray was feeling a little dizzy after two drinks, and now guilt weighed on him as he remembered storming out on his adoptive parents in anger. They had done nothing wrong, and it wasn’t their fault that they weren’t his biological parents. They had raised him well, with love and care, providing him with everything he needed. He couldn’t stay mad at them. He had no right to.

  “Actually...” the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that he needed to return home. “What time is it?”

  “Just after eleven. Why?”

  There was no clock in the bar, and Erinel hadn’t checked a watch or phone, but Mioray believed her. There was no reason for her to lie. It wasn’t like she had anything to gain from it.

  That aside, it was getting late, and for the past couple of months, wandering around at night hadn’t been safe. There were rumors of a serial killer on the loose, nicknamed “The Dismantler.” Mioray wasn’t eager to encounter him on the street.

  “I think it’s time for me to go,” he said. “Thank you for the drinks, Erinel. It was nice to meet you.”

  “You too, Mioray.”

  He glanced around the bar. Despite how long they had been talking, the other patrons were still sitting in their places, minding their own business. Were they here just for appearances? Nobody else had come into the bar after Mioray, so it wasn’t crowded. The perfect spot for conducting shady business. He had no doubts that the people here were some sort of criminals. Well, except for Erinel, obviously. She was just the bartender. And the other bartender too, he supposed.

  “Is it always like this?” Mioray asked.

  “Like what?”

  “It doesn’t seem like you get many customers. And the ones who are here... well, they look dubious, to say the least.”

  “Oh, that’s what you mean,” Erinel chuckled. “Though we don’t get many customers, we value the ones we do. When someone comes in, they usually stay forever.”

  That sounded a bit dark, but it made sense in context. Mioray would certainly love to come back again.

  “I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon,” Erinel said after Mioray mentioned wanting to return. “After all, we met ‘At life’s end’.”

  She had a quirky sense of humor, but Mioray didn’t mind. He said goodbye to Erinel and quickly made his way to the exit, trying not to make eye contact with the other patrons. He felt uneasy around them when Erinel wasn’t nearby, but that didn’t stop him from deciding that he would definitely come back. Erinel had made quite an impression on him, and he already felt her presence filling his heart. The fact that she was older didn’t matter. They were both adults, after all.

  Outside, the sky had turned dark, and the dim street lamps did little to illuminate the road. There was no one around – an ideal setting for the Dismantler to begin his hunt. Mioray quickened his pace, eager to get to a busier part of the city, somewhere with people even at this hour. It was silly to think he might encounter the infamous killer tonight, but better to be safe than sorry.

  On his way home, he couldn’t stop thinking about Erinel and their next meeting. It would probably be at the bar again, since he’d been too flustered to ask for her phone number or suggest grabbing coffee sometime. Well, what’s done is done, he thought. He could only hope for a second chance to make a better impression. She hadn’t seemed bothered by him at all, and it felt like she’d enjoyed their conversation. Then again, she could have just been doing her job. He was a customer, after all. But she hadn’t asked him to leave, even though he hadn’t paid for the drinks, which meant she didn’t mind his company... right?

  It’s always hard to know if someone’s sending signals or just being polite. But it wouldn’t hurt to find out. If Erinel wasn’t interested, she could tell Mioray, and he’d respect that. For now, it was enough to know that someone like her existed. He didn’t know much about her, but Erinel seemed nice and interesting. Just thinking about the possibilities of their friendship made him happy. He definitely wanted to see her again, and sooner rather than later.

  One thing, though, wouldn’t leave his mind: her ring. Erinel had said it was a gift from someone dear, but that could mean anything. It would be a shame if she already had a boyfriend or a husband. Not that it was a bad thing by itself, but it would mean she was off-limits, and Mioray wouldn’t be able to ask her out. He wanted it to work out so badly. He’d never felt this way before, even though they’d only just met. Her smile, her warm hazel eyes, her violet-tinged black hair with its few rebellious strands... Erinel’s image was burned into his memory.

  Mioray was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the sound of footsteps behind him until it was too late. A sudden, sharp pain struck the back of his head, and for a split second, he thought his skull had cracked. Then everything went dark. An all-consuming blackness swallowed him whole, pulling him away from consciousness, from the world, from everything.