In a Dirty and Dimly Lit Place, There is Solitude
Walking out of the lobby after a long day of filing paperwork and standard patrol work, newly minted police officer Nick Wilde casually got into his car and made his way home, taking the back way to avoid the main thoroughfare and the inevitable thirty minutes of sitting in traffic as the radio forced him to listen to terrible music. Halfway to his destination, on the corner of Serengeti Way and Grassland Avenue, Nick noticed a building that he had not taken the time to notice before- a bar. The only reason that he noticed it at all was because unlike most of the establishments that littered the city with their cute names and animal puns, this one was simply named "The Bar". Nick, curiosity getting the better of him, shrugged to himself and pulled into the parking lot.
The building on the outside was surprisingly in respectable condition given the circumstance that it was in an older part of town with a reputation for low income housing and high crime rates. The windows were all intact and the door was recently painted a light brown, complementing the dark brick that made the rest of the building. To the right of the door was a payphone, worn by time and frequent, drunken use. The bright neon sign that had caught Nick's attention earlier flickered slightly as one of the bulbs had begun to sputter out and eventually die. The parking lot itself was decent for a business of its size, 42 spaces in total and generally situated in a position where the traffic could flow in and out without too much hassle. As Nick exited the car and made his way to the door he recognized some of the vehicles- a large light blue truck, belonging to Jerry Jumbeaux Jr.; a medium-sized van that he knew to be Finnick's, who always seemed to be overcompensating in everything he did; and a brown sedan, the property of Mr. Emmett Otterton. At seeing the cars Nick felt incredibly uneasy, for the last thing he wanted was a bitter confrontation on the part of Finnick or a compliant from Jumbeaux; which he would have been able to deal with under normal circumstances had it not also been for Otterton, who had a habit of delivering wisdom and life advice to people who neither asked for it nor necessarily needed it.
The Bar was definitely one of the cleaner buildings in the area, in that the floors were swept occasionally and the bathroom only smelled of piss every other week. In terms of space it was rather large, which made sense in order to accommodate for the larger species, such as pachyderms; despite its relatively short length, only providing enough room for five bar stools at the bar, which served as the centerpiece of the main space. The tables were situated in order, lower numbers closer to the door and around the windows, which were along the perimeter; and higher numbers scattered across the main floor with booths in the back corner. At the moment, The Bar was currently at its busiest hour, with patrons ranging in height from the fire ant to the giraffe, and in weight from that same ant to Jumbeaux.
Nick, if nothing else to address the poor word play and in hopes of making a joke in an attempt to suppress his less than amiable mood, the past few weeks rendering him an insomniac, calmly made his way to Jumbeaux's booth in the corner of the room, at the same time taking note of the bartender, Barry Cooke, a bobcat.
"And then she threatens to throw the book at me!" Jumbeaux exclaimed, concluding to Otterton and Finnick, who were with him, "I'm telling yah, there's just no justice in the world anymore."
Otterton nodded in agreement as he took another drink of his draft, for this was the only day that he allowed himself a beer, otherwise being a regular stiff.
"It can be tough" Otterton declared, "But you shouldn't let a couple complaints get you down. After all, that's part of being in business."
Finnick, whose eyes were always shifting, never ceasing to rest for extended periods of time, even in calmer moments, glanced to his left and eyed Nick from across the room. No sooner did he see him, still dressed in his blues, did Finnick sulk and turn back to Jumbeaux. Jumbeaux, who was only half-listening to Otterton, for he was incredibly boring at times, noticed Finnick's glare and turned around with the curiosity of an intellectually starved owl.
"Well, well" Jumbeaux said as he moved to the side, allowing Nick ample room to join the table, "Look who it is; you here to give me another citation Wilde? I told you assholes that I'd clean that place up, change my practices, what more do you want?"
Nick shook his head and rolled his eyes, for it was typical of Jumbeaux to greet him in this manner, the elephant never fully forgiving him for swindling him, an understandable if slightly stubborn position.
"Nah, I just figured I'd address the only elephant in the room" Nick answered, smiling a bit as he covered for himself, taking note of the joke's weakness, "That and you're just too big to ignore Jumbeaux."
Jumbeaux huffed playfully and gestured to the open space, which Nick obliged.
"I told you Nick" Jumbeaux said, "First name basis with me, it's Jerry or it's nothing."
Otterton, who now had an official view of Nick, immediately perked up and smiled, extending his paw across the table for a handshake, which the fox graciously accepted.
"Nick Wilde, good to see you again" Otterton began, "How are things?"
Nick shrugged, deflecting Otterton, at the moment not wishing to talk about himself and instead wanting to dive into other's lives, if only for a change of pace. In reality, his life was looking up, he had a car, a nice apartment in the heart of Zootopia, and a job that he cared about. There were a few things that were missing to be sure, but as far as he was concerned those things would come in their own time in their own way; for now, it was enough to be where he was.
"You know how things are" Nick said, giving a half-assed reply, "Eating, sleeping, working, and living. Just like everybody else."
Otterton laughed and shook his head to the contrary, for he begged to differ, seeing the value in everything that was good in the world. As for the bad, the otter figured at the very least that if enough good existed, it would balance out and eventually negate it. This philosophy he had shared with both Jerry and Finnick, the former taking it with pride, and the latter a slow adopter, still holding to the ideals and the selfishness of the streets, if only because it was the only thing he knew.
"There's more to life than that Nick" Otterton said, to the point, "Much more, if you value anything. You've got a lot to be thankful for: friends, family-"
"No family" Nick corrected, slightly annoyed, "Not anymore. Besides, friends are all I need."
Otterton nodded again, respecting Nick's answer and turned to Finnick, nudging him a bit, for he had a glazed and indifferent look in his eye, suggestive of boredom.
"Come on Finnick cheer up" Otterton exclaimed, bringing him out of his haze, "You can't hold a grudge forever."
Finnick groaned and begrudgingly faced Nick, who could not help but notice Finnick's eyes. They spoke many different languages, all of the heart, and all of them equally painful, both to accept and to experience, the most overt of these was hate, followed very closely by sadness and betrayal. This was not entirely surprising, for Nick had known Finnick to be incredibly closeted with his emotions, often in the moment displaying relative indifference and nonchalance only later to spill them out, either into a beer, like he was doing presently, or in his pillow. He would never cry, Finnick being much more of a screamer, but the principle remained the same.
"You're not well acquainted with the streets are you?" Finnick declared sharply, after which he immediately turned to Nick, "Or you would know that rats ain't welcome."
Jerry grunted and tried his best to be as supportive of Nick as possible, for although he did not exactly like the fox, the elephant held nothing against him personally; seeing him as more of a nuisance than an adversary.
"Now see here Finnick" Jerry began, scolding, "Just because Nick went straight doesn't mean you get to hold his past over him like that. What you did was wrong, near deplorable. Swindling guys like me out of their hard-earned money, only to turn it around and make a quick buck."
Finnick laughed sarcastically and shook his head, for although Jerry had spoken true, the effect was minimal, almost nonexistent, coming off as a cheap and sad attempt at diplomacy.
"Give it a rest you will you?" Finnick returned, "You talk about swindling folks out of their money; your prices are ridiculous! 12 dollars for a damn popsicle! Completely outrageous. I'm doing you a favor."
Jerry, who was about to turn red in the face, was cut off by Nick, who calmly held him at bay with a firm grasp, after which the fox turned to Finnick and began to put his training to good use.
"How about this Finnick?" Nick said, putting on a slight bit of charm, hoping to defuse the situation as quickly as it had been ignited, "You either start giving my man Jerry here a cut of your profits or I have you arrested for fraud, embezzlement, tax evasion, and disruption of the peace."
Finnick folded his arms and leaned back defensively.
"You wouldn't dare" Finnick declared, stand-offish, "Not with those trump charges."
Nick shook his head and casually leaned in, displaying all the confidence that he could muster.
"Who said they were trump charges?" Nick continued, "All the shit we pulled? Not just with the popsicle racket but with the bakery operation down at Flo's. Not to mention our stint with Mr. Big before that or anything in the last 20 years. The worst thing that could happen to me at this point would be a reprimand from Bogo and a slap on the wrist; but you my friend, you're looking at 20 to 30 at Howard Penitentiary easy."
Finnick sneered and spat in Nick's direction, a bit of spittle sticking to his lower lip, for he was not incredibly good with distance, and so the shot came up short by several inches, landing at the halfway point on the table. Jerry stared at the spit and resisted every urge that he had to clean it, being something of a neat freak, a habit he had developed since Nick had hustled him and Judy had called him out for negligence. To ease his mind, the elephant focused his attention on Nick and the fuse he had ironically lit.
"Nick" Jerry said somewhat indignantly, "We were having a nice time tonight 'til you showed up and made things complicated."
It was at this moment, that Manchas, who was coincidentally part of the social group that had formed among them, entered the bar. To his left was Gazelle, who was currently his charge. Manchas, sniffed the air cautiously, the experience with the Night-Howlers leaving slight mnemonic impressions in his personality. It was strange; he thought, that Gazelle, who was not popular among the lower classes, seen as an impostor, her advocacy a mere front to sell albums, would want to come to The Bar. Manchas assumed that it was yet another PR campaign in an attempt to bounce back from recent backlash or perhaps she was meeting someone who preferred to keep things on a low profile; for Gazelle did not strike Manchas as a one who publicly drank beer, or alcohol of any kind for that matter, much more akin to water or milk.
"Are you sure about this?" Manchas said, whispering and mostly being ignored, "What reason could you possibly have for being in a place like this?"
Gazelle rolled her eyes and brushed him off, refusing to answer; causing Manchas to smile and nonchalantly gesture towards the corner booth.
Jerry, who saw Manchas first, casually nudged Nick, who followed his gaze. Upon landing on the panther Nick groaned and sighed, shaking his head as he once again began to hate himself. Otterton, who by this point had spent too much of an emotional investment on Nick to consider him anything less than a friend, straightened himself out and immediately switched from his current state of mind to the confidant.
"What's so bad about what happened?" Otterton asked, noting Nick's distress, "What are you so worried about?"
Nick sighed and huffed in disbelief, as if the question was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard in his entire life.
"You do one good thing and suddenly people start treating you different" Nick answered, "They forget what you were. It's not so easy for me. How can you forget a past like that?"
Otterton smiled and nodded in understanding, knowing full well the sacrifices that Nick had made in the recent months: the swallowing of his pride and the acceptance of everything that he had been taught to be against chief among them.
"The past is a painful burden" Otterton declared, "But you have to let it go Nick; otherwise, you'll never be happy. Besides think about all the good things that came out of it."
Nick laughed futility and shook his head; failing to see the significance of Otterton's words.
"Maybe I wasn't meant to be happy" Nick retorted bluntly, "Did you ever think of that Emmett?"
Otterton nodded once more, for he had heard such things before, mostly from Manchas and Jerry, the former having been in the employment of Mr. Big, and the latter so consumed with his shop and making money that he had become cold against the world. Of course, these concerns were long behind them, Manchas holding an honest job and Jerry being respectable. It was difficult, to put it mildly, to convince them of their own self-worth as well as the worth of other people, Manchas being inexplicably violent-minded and Jerry, much like Finnick, indifferent. Otterton remembered specifically that they both shared similar opinions of him, seeing him as nothing more than an otter, who carried no weight and meant absolutely nothing.
Slinking under the table and appearing on the other side, Otterton met Nick with all the speed in the world, as if the very idea of self-pity was an insult to his ears. Placing a firm grip on Nick's shoulder, simultaneously adjusting his glasses, Otterton spoke with the paternal gentleness that he was accustomed to, in his head treating Nick as if he were his son.
"There are three ingredients to happiness: love, laughter, and faith."
Nick rolled his eyes and huffed, for it was just like Otterton to bring faith into matters such as this.
"Don't turn this into something it's not" Nick declared, "This isn't one of your self help sessions, this is my life. Best if you leave it alone. Nothing good came out of our little soriee, save for a lot of headache and a couple of broken bones."
Otterton laughed and shook his head once more, for Nick was missing one incredibly important detail when it came to the events of the past several months.
"What about Judy?" the otter exclaimed, "Surely she's-"
Nick stopped him before he could even continue with the raising of his paw.
"You assume too much Emmett" Nick returned bluntly, "Our relationship is purely professional."
Jerry huffed and rolled his eyes, begging to differ. Nick, who had forgotten that the elephant was there, an almost impossible task given his size but not so given that he had remained relatively quiet.
"Ha!" Jerry said, butting in, "If 'professionalism' includes dinner dates and dancing than you two are the most professional cops in Zootopia."
"Jerry, you even so much as say something so ridiculous as that again and I'll have you arrested" Nick declared, half joking, "So I repeat: There is nothing- absolutely nothing between Judy Hopps and myself. Do me a favor, all of you, stop making assumptions about my life. If you want to know something, ask me about it yourselves, don't spread useless gossip."
Nick rose from his chair and casually waved them off, wanting nothing more to do with their company, his only thought the solace of his bedroom, one of the only places in town where he could be himself. Otterton, who was not about to allow Nick to leave without a proper goodbye, immediately got in his path, straightening his glasses as he often did and embraced Nick as hard as he could. The fox did not really understand why it was that Otterton, who was never so upfront about displaying emotions, much preferring to keep a low profile, part of his personal philosophy akin to confidentiality agreements between doctors and their patients, had decided to take it upon himself to ensure that he did not leave until he addressed whatever issue it was that he believed was being brought to the forefront.
"Nick" Otterton pleaded, "It's okay to talk about these things. We're all friends here right?"
Jerry nodded, concurring; Finnick, who at this point wanted absolutely nothing to do with Nick Wilde and was on the verge of quitting on Otterton, sulked and retreated to the remnants of his drink, after which he stood up, placed his portion of the tip on the table and made his way towards the door without making so much as a sound.
"If this is what you call friendship I don't want a part of it" Nick declared, "Find someone else to patronize."
Without even bothering to hear Otterton's rebuttal, for he felt like he had already overstayed his welcome, Nick made his way to the door and exited the bar. It was of course, at this moment, that Manchas found his way to the booth, behind him was Gazelle, who maintained an air of curiosity; whether or not it was sincere was another issue entirely. Jerry, at Manchas' approach, gestured to Finnick's abandoned place only to be respectfully denied. Otterton, still staring at the door, could only convince himself not to cry. As Manchas made unneeded introductions and Jerry cracked a few jokes, for the elephant was quick to settle into new company Otterton casually followed the way of Nick and Finnick, paid his bill, grabbed his coat and made his way outside; after which he called his wife, told her that he loved her, and then, standing beside the payphone, cried.