Chapter 1. Stop

Lyle pressed on the accelerator with his eyes glued to the truck in front. But to a surprise that didn't show on his face, his vehicle stopped like a clock that had its battery removed. He heard a knock on his window in the next second. A young man, probably in his 20s, with short hair, was smiling at him.

"Lucky for you, mister, your taxi barely stopped before hitting the truck."

"I am so sleepy to appreciate my diver instincts," Lyle switched on the dome light, then squinted his eyes and blinked multiple times. His hair was on the longer side for a man and he had two silver piercings in his left ear.

"Antlia Passage please," the young man at the window politely said.

"I was just heading home," Lyle apologized. "Haven't felt this exhausted in a while."

But the man outside acted as if he didn't listen. He reached out to the breast pocket of his overcoat and took out a long zipper wallet. On the black leather, just beside the logo, 'Blaine' was embroidered. The amount of cash inside was thick and the amount his finger separated as an offer? It was more than enough to make a taxi driver give up on sleep for days.

"I wouldn't want to crash a person such as yourself," Lyle said while looking at the truck in front. "I apologize-"

"Don't worry, I am sure we won't crash," Blaine's voice turned icy towards the end. In reality, he had been waiting for a vehicle for over ten minutes now. He cursed at the truck, but the arrival of a taxi carrying a 'Vacant' sign brought hope. The taxi door automatically opened, and he got in.

"My luck is running dry," he said when the taxi overtook the truck. "Keep talking mister, don't sleep on me," he added when the driver didn't respond.

"I feel the same," Lyle said while looking into the rear-view mirror. His eyes met with the passenger's.

Blaine's short hair, along with a young face, made his head look tiny compared to his upper body. Maybe it was because of the overcoat - gray and the type that anyone could tell was expensive. His white shirt and silver tie with black polka dots blended extremely well with his attire. Perhaps only expensive ties look this perfect even if they aren't at the center.

Despite being worlds apart, Lyle and Blaine had one thing in common. Both of them were neat - not in appearance, nor in behavior. It was something else that Blaine noticed when their eyes met.

"Sleepy people don't have such healthy eyes," he said. "Looking at you now, I must say that you look rather fresh in spite of working all day."

"I do sleep a lot," Lyle said, "and it's not much of a work. I just have to sit in one place."

"True-true," Blaine reached inside his overcoat and took out a cigarette box.

"You can't smoke inside a taxi," Lyle said when the man was ready to light it up.

"Open the windows," Blaine said after pausing for a moment.

"The smell still lingers for long," Lyle said while staring into the rear-view mirror.

"I will put in a bonus. You can wash your car first thing in the morning." Blaine didn't stop and took a puff. The windows automatically rolled down the next moment.

"Smokers don't have such a healthy face," Lyle said.

"True-true," Blaine's laughter turned into coughs emitting smoke but his eyes radiated cheers (along with a few teardrops).

The taxi had long entered the busy streets yet sailed smoothly. It finally reached the destination - Antlia Passage. When Lyle thought the night would be finally over, Blaine made an unusual request.

"I cannot," Lyle refused. The taxi stood in front of a restaurant with its engine running.

"You want more money?" Blaine increased the amount by two folds and extended the sum over Lyle's shoulder.

"If you offer this must, then I am afraid the job is not as simple as it sounds."

"From my position, this is nothing," Blaine said after a while. He was now resting his hand on Lyle's shoulder. "My hands are getting heavy, you better take the money before it slips from my grip." After the money was handed over, he continued. "Count it," he said.

"69…"

"Anti-symmetry? Don't tell me you believe in such nonsense."

"I do," Lyle slowly said. And so he was immediately handed over another bill, which he accepted. "I still cannot accompany you any further. As I told you before, this is the restaurant you are looking for."

"Are you testing me?" Blaine's voice turned cold again. But before anything could happen, a third party interrupted them.

"Hey hey hey taxi! Aren't you stopping here for too long?" A young man rushed out of the restaurant. He was dressed in black and white with a bow tie around his neck. As he reached to see the diver, his expression flipped. "Oh… Lyle, didn't see you there." And the passenger on the back seemed too damn important.

"This is Sayeno, he works in the restaurant and is probably the person you are looking for," Lyle quickly introduced the rowdy waiter. "I must go now." He pressed a button and the door of the taxi opened.

"You two seem to know each other," Blaine grinned. "Tell me waiter, do you think this man can work for a few more hours or not?"

"Yes, sir!" Sayeno stood straight and saluted. "In fact, Lyle usually drives the taxi all night."

Lyle secretly cursed his bad luck and turned off the engine. The 70 bills of cash were still in his hand. Now he opened the glove box and put them inside.

"I really owe you this company, but there is something you must know." Lyle gestured Sayeno to leave and continued when the latter did. "I am on drugs and…"

"Drugs?"

"Alcohol, but directly into my veins. I don't know when I will slip off again."

"Don't worry, I will make sure you won't." Blaine smiled and patted harshly on Lyle's shoulder. Only the darkness of the night could explain the heaviness of this situation. Both men got out of the car and headed towards the restaurant.

Sayeno was waiting on the brightly illuminated door of the restaurant. He smiled politely at the man in a freaking expensive overcoat, then looked at Lyle, who very carefully handed over a pair of keys. And at the end, his eyes hovered over a few people clicking photos of the man with an overcoat that shined like the moon in the night.

"He will be right back," Lyle said to Blaine before entering the restaurant and the latter followed.

The place was fairly simple, with dining tables separated by partitioning panels that provided a degree of privacy. A few customers were dining at the place. Lyle picked one at a corner and escorted Blaine there.

"Can you get me drugs?" Blaine asked just as they sat.

"No."

"You are a wuss," Blaine burst into laughter. "Is that money not enough?"

"I just don't want any trouble."

A waitress approached their table with a tray carrying two wine glasses and a dark burgundy bottle. Lyle squinted his eyes at the girl, who was respectfully waiting for Blaine to say anything. Who the hell was she?

"Yes, pour the drink." Blaine snorted gleefully and examined the waitress. He chugged the wine in one swoop and signalled to pour more and then more.

The middle-aged manager of the restaurant was staring with wide eyes at the scene. This was potentially the most expensive wine they had, and this person was drinking it like air. Strictly speaking, it was only a 100 dollar wine, but it had been at the store for over 5 generations.

Now, now, the 200 years didn't really improve the quality, but they were important enough. And this new girl had served it without knowing the significance. Indeed, the fellow in a gray overcoat seemed worthy but the other guy dressed in a short-sleeve shirt?

The manager cursed under his breath. Hopefully, the important person here will tip enough, he thought, to feel better. Under his supervision, the restaurant was rapidly declining, and the owner had hinted to take extreme measures.

Sayeno arrived at the scene and saw his boss' worried expression. Looking in the same direction was enough for him to understand. It was that crappy wine.

"Lyle and mister…" Sayeno approached the table.

"Blaine."

"Mister Blaine," Sayeno smiled and then hinted at the waitress.

"You can leave," Blaine said to the young waitress, who showed disappointment and reluctantly left.

The manager saw Lyle winning over the rich customer and almost coughed blood. But the next thing made his heart scream like a wild dog. That damn waiter actually managed to let the most important thing in the restaurant slip through his hands!

The horror only made the manager's eyes wide. He saw every moment as the bottle fell. In agony, he saw the bottle touch the ground. His heart crushed into pieces, but the bottle did not. A hand had reached out to prevent the precious wine from painting the marble floor.