Chapter 1.2
“Ah, this? Itās a memento from my mother.”
Just then, the customer at the counter had asked about it, prompting the bartenderās response. A idly flipped to another page in the menu. The woman seated beside A traced her index finger along the rim of her empty glass, seemingly lost in thought. The bar was small, so the bartenderās voice reached A clearly.
“My father was a famous noble from Central City. My mother was also of noble blood, but from a family far beneath my fatherās in status. However, she was incredibly beautiful. My father fell in love at first sight, and so they were wed. It would have been nice if their marriage had been a happy one… But unfortunately, my father was a womanizing old manāah, I forgot to mention that my parents had an age gap of over thirty years. Oh, and my motherās family, desperate for money, practically sold her off to him.”
The bartender chuckled lightly before continuing.
“Anyway, my father had many lovers besides my mother. He didnāt discriminateāmen, women, young, old. He was unashamedly unfaithful, even after marrying her. Not that it was surprising. After all, he had deliberately sought out a young bride from a weak family so that he could enjoy a āfree and unrestrictedā personal life. Thereās nothing more to say.”
As the bartender laughed, the customer at the counter launched into a string of curses directed at Central. His smile remained entirely untainted by maliceāso gentle, so natural, that A held their breath. It was obvious that it was merely a professional smile, yet it was impossible to look away.
“Thatās right. Central has always been a bit… outdated, in that way. But what could I do? I should have escaped to the east sooner. Instead, I suffered endlessly, fell ill, and only then decided to run. Naturally, my father was furious and came after me. I was a disgrace to the family, after all. Maybe if he had treated me more kindly, I wouldnāt have left. But, not very bright, I suppose. My mother collapsed from illness the moment she arrived in the east.”
Someone called for the bartender, placing an order. He momentarily paused his story, excused himself, and swiftly prepared a cocktail. With expert precision, he stirred a dry martini, mixing dry gin and dry vermouth in a mixing glass before quickly straining it into a cocktail glass. Unlike some bartenders who over-stirred and diluted the drink with melted ice, this one knew exactly what he was doing. Wherever he had learned, it was clear he had been properly trained.
“Now, where was I? Oh, right. So, to pay for my motherās medicine, I had no choice but to work. But eventually, one of my fatherās errand boys caught me. I was dragged back to Central. Afraid that my mother might be found as well, I kept silent about everything I had experienced in the east.”
After handing the drink, garnished with an olive, to the customer, the bartender continued.
“My father relentlessly questioned me about my motherās whereabouts, but I told him nothing. I told him he might as well kill me instead. By that time, he had already remarried… He didnāt care about my motherāhe was simply angry that she had dared to run away. But since he had me as a replacement to punish, he soon forgot about her. I rotted under that bastardās control for years. Only once I was an adult did I finally manage to escape back to the east. And as you can see, I ended up working here.”
He suddenly raised a hand.
“Ah, one moment.”
As the bartender paused and looked directly at A, they felt a pang of guilt. They had been too engrossed in his story without realizing it. The bartender stepped out from behind the counter and walked toward their table. Panicked, A pretended to look back at the menu, worried about appearing suspicious.
“Do you still have the ingredients for a Grasshopper?”
But the bartender hadnāt approached because of A. The woman at the next table had spoken to him.
Realizing that A had completely forgotten about her, they glanced sideways. The woman was twirling a playful smile, raising one hand as if she had been waiting for her turn. It seemed that, after waiting for A to choose a drink with no response, she had decided to go ahead and order first. The bartender, now standing beside her, shook his head.
“We’re out of mint.”
“You run out of it often. Why not stock up more at once? Iāll be coming here regularly.”
“Things have been tense between the East and the South lately. And the North doesnāt produce enough to supply us properly, even if we wanted to buy more.”
“As if the East doesn’t have enough enemies already. Ah, right, you mentioned you werenāt confident in auctions. Donāt worry, just leave it to me. As long as you compensate me well for my trouble.”
“One high-end worker is enough for this place. If our profits fluctuate, what happens if the bar goes under? Where do I go then?”
“Fine, Iāll take an Apple Martini instead.”
After their brief exchange, the woman turned to A, her gaze silently asking, What about you?
A instinctively raised a hand to decline but hesitated when they met the bartenderās eyes. His faint smile was warm and inviting. Through the black-rimmed glasses, his grayish-blue irises shimmered with an almost ethereal glow. It was a color that had long been considered extinct. Looking more closely, his facial features were strikingly refined, unlike most people these days. The straight bridge of his nose, his sharply defined cheekbones and jaw, and the slightly upturned, full lips resembled the recently excavated bronze statues from before the Cataclysm.
A remnant of history, now lostā¦
“Black Russian.”
The name of a cocktail suddenly popped into Aās mind. They ordered it without thinkingāand immediately regretted it.
Pre-Cataclysm records were exceedingly rare. Recipes, books, and academic papers that contained names of places, buildings, or people from that era were nearly impossible to obtain, often sold at exorbitant prices. A wasnāt sure if the bartender would even know how to make the drink.
Yet, unexpectedly, the bartender responded without hesitation. “Understood.” His reply was so natural, so unbothered, that it left A with an inexplicable feeling. As he turned, the golden ribbon around his neck fluttered slightly. A suddenly recalled the unfinished story from earlier and called out to him.
“Soā¦ did you ever reunite with your mother?”
