Holy response. You guys are amazing! I had no idea you'd still be so excited to read more – it's touched my stone cold, Vaughn-like heart. Daw. xD Thanks again to the insane amount of reviews Guest, ScipioPB, imagine believe, MikariStar, Cheetos, DesertRoseSparty, teamBLAZE, CAPJHMPAgirl, XxBlue and CrimsonxX, and HersheyC101! Wow, so many reviews! I'll be sure to update again really soon!
This is also the official halfway point. We've still got a long way to go, and I hope there are many laughs for you until the end. :)
Blueberry Cocktails are Gross
It was no surprise to Vaughn that he was the first person to arrive. He unwrapped the red scarf from around his neck and hung it on one of the many empty, well-worn pegs for coats by the door. He shrugged off his black jacket and hid the scarf under it. He smoothed the wrinkles from his shoulder down to his shirt cuff. He sighed and took in the musty air of Sully's.
The little bar had a sticky jukebox in the corner where a brunette with a beer in her hand was continually feeding quarters in to replay 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' ad nauseam. Other than two men playing cards in a corner booth, Sully's was empty. The only bartender was stocking the shelves below the counter with squeaky clean shot glasses. He looked up when Vaughn approached the bar.
"Wallace," Vaughn nodded in greeting to the old man.
"'Ey, it's been a while, Mr. Vaughn." Steadying his stance, the old man stood as straight as he could and leant his elbows on the wooden counter for balance. Old Wallace had owned Sully's for years, and it was still the only bar Vaughn ever visited in the city. Still, he couldn't help but feel the old geezer should have retired twenty years ago. "What can I getcha?"
"Humph," Vaughn shrugged, debating drinking just after six. Then again, it might be wise to get his kicks before his co-workers showed up. They'd be easier to deal with if he was sloshed. He leaned against a support beam, getting comfortable. "Sure, give me a shot of whatever you got."
Wallace chuckled and brought out a shallow glass, pouring single malt whiskey into it with a shaking wrist. He pushed the tumbler across to him.
"If you could start a tab, thanks," Vaughn said, taking up the bitter liquid and downing it. It was sharp and hot. He shook his head once to clear it. "You take care of yourself."
"Thank ya, sir," Wallace said, shuffling off to finish his business before the rush.
"Vaughnie~!"
Vaughn wished Wallace would have left the bottle out. He polished off the rest of the alcohol and left his empty glass behind him.
Alice left her designer coat at the door, rushing up to the familiar face and hugging him like an old friend. She giggled, spinning off of him and collapsing onto one of the many empty barstools. She beamed up at him with rosy cheeks, pulling up her slipping black blouse. "Who'd have thunk we'd be the first ones here? What are the odds?!"
"You're already drunk," Vaughn observed flatly.
"Psh!" Alice waved him off, tightening her high, twin ponytails. "Don't be silly – I'm not drunk. I just escaped the most boring party in the world. You'd think senators' daughters would be social enough to play a few rounds of shots, but nooooo… left me all alone."
"Poor you at your little, rich girl party," he rolled his eyes. Luckily, Wallace came by again and refilled his tumbler.
"I know, right?" She sympathized with herself. Alice eyed his glass with cat-like curiosity. "Ooo, whatcha drinking?"
Before Vaughn could answer, Alice snatched his glass and sniffed. She stuck out her tongue, handing it back to him. "What's the face?"
"Gross! That stuff's like drinking nail polish remover," Alice stuck up her nose. She patted the table for attention, crossing her legs. "Hey, Wallace! Got some sugar for me?"
The old man shook his head, carting over her favorite strawberry daiquiri mix. "I got it ready when you walked in the door, darlin.'"
"You sweetheart~!" Alice squealed and leaned over the counter to take the concoction from him, sipping it happily. "Ah~!"
"Drinking already? How are we ever going to catch up?" Allen teased, handing his stylish trench coat to Rod to hang up. Behind them were more familiar silhouettes crowding the doorway.
"Haha," Vaughn took a swig as Allen approached. "You outdrink everyone. Every year."
"That isn't true!" Allen feigned a scandalized tone as he leered over Alice, twirling one of her pigtails.
"Ask Wallace," Alice snorted.
"Wallace!" Allen gasped. "Tell them I'm not an alcoholic!"
"You're not, sir," he smiled, lining up the glasses and filling them with the favorites for the patrons who regularly made a scene in his quiet establishment every few months. "Can't hold your liquor. Broke a light last year."
Vaughn and Alice laughed as Allen waved off the memory he didn't have, reaching for a glass of some fruity cocktail.
Rod joined them, picking up a bottle of beer waiting for him. "Hey, guys! Aren't you excited for another new year? Any resolutions?"
"Traumatize Gill so bad he faints!" Alice suggested immediately. Vaughn toasted to that.
"I swear, you've had some strange sights on him this year. Just waiting to ravish him, aren't you?" Allen said, finishing off half of his drink already. He received a playful slap from her.
The door was ferociously kicked forward, forcing the bell to clang nearly off its hook. Luke appeared beside a scantily clad Tina. "The party don't start—"
"—'til we walk in!" Tina finished, laughing and high-fiving her partner.
"And the traditions continue," Vaughn muttered.
"You guys!" Alice screamed, jumping up from her seat to greet them. She bombarded Tina with a bear hug, swirling her drink over the lip of the glass and spilling. "You're back!"
"We're back!" Tina chorused, returning her friend's hug. "A little jetlagged, but we took a cab straight from the airport." This explained the suitcases crowding their ankles.
"Wouldn't miss this night for nothing!" Luke shouted, pumping his fist and howling like a dog.
"Jeez, it's freezing!" Tina shivered, hugging her bare arms. All she had was a tank top and shorts, and Luke was in a similar t-shirt and short combo as well.
"Where on Earth would that outfit in winter not be a terrible idea?" Alice scolded, ushering her friend to the bar for something to warm her up.
"Mr. Ham sent us to these islands for a follow-up deal," Luke explained, vaulting himself over an unsuspecting Rod and grabbing a beer. "Hotter than hell, and so were the girls!"
"A follow-up? I thought you were scouting," Allen commented, getting a refill.
"Nah, it was some loose end. We'd never been there before, but they insisted we were the company marketing their brochure. And it was a real nice one – shiny with lots of pictures!" Luke quenched his thirst and sighed. "What was it? Sunny?"
"Sunshine," Tina corrected.
"Sunshine Islands, yeah!" Luke nodded, ready to let the subject drop.
Vaughn set down his glass, suddenly becoming excited. "Sunshine? Did you say the Sunshine Islands? In the Pacific?"
"Yeah," Luke said, surprised Vaughn had him by the shoulder. "Dude, you okay?"
Alice perked up, finally recognizing the name as well. It was the brochure she spent all night helping Vaughn with all those weeks ago. She eyed him with interest.
"And Taro," Vaughn persisted. "You met Taro, right? How's he doing? Is he okay?"
"Taro…?" Luke's face scrunched up in confusion. Vaughn's heart fell.
"Yeah! Mr. Old Guy!" Tina jumped in.
"Oh! Right! He said to say 'hi' to you," Luke snapped his fingers. He became confused. "Wait, how do you know him?"
Vaughn relaxed, letting Luke go and giving his back a pat. "He's an old friend. It's good to know he's doing well."
"Old friend?" Tina asked, her nose wrinkling as she scooted into a seat. "I got the impression you used to live there. Everyone was asking about you."
"Vaughn lived on a place called Sunshine?" Allen laughed into his drink, successfully bathing himself with it. Alice dabbed napkins along his shirt where it spilled. "I love irony!"
Vaughn glowered, and let the subject go at that. The cowboy boots he wore felt lighter, remembering his home and the people who took him in and raised him. Taro was the one who got him a job in business in the first place.
It wasn't long before the bar began to feel crowded. Hamilton came in at a sprint with Gill hot on his heels. He refused to let his boss get trashed this year and embarrass the company, resulting in the assistant becoming a babysitter for the holiday. Dan sulked in and found a cozy booth to occupy. He never stuck around long. Basil arrived and immediately got into an argument with Rod.
"How did you find us?!" Rod demanded. "I told you we meet at Johnny Rockets every year!"
"Well, I asked Mr. Gill just to be sure…" Basil mumbled. He left to find a good seat with a jovial wave. "Happy New Year, though, loser!"
Rod's plan to get rid of the intern had failed. He banged his head against the wall.
Louis bustled about, handing out papers to everyone. Allen, already tipsy, used the one he received as a napkin and then tried to smoke it.
"Hello, Vaughn!" The be-speckled young man greeted him with a paper.
Vaughn eyed the verses. "What's this?"
"It's the original Scottish lyrics for 'Auld Lang Syne!' You know, just in case everyone wants to get it right this year. Now we can all sing together!" he laughed, but it was obvious Louis cared about this too much. He quickly shuffled off to pass out more lyric pages that were sure to be lost or discarded.
Strangers off the street heard the commotion down at Sully's and stopped in for a drink and decided to ring in the New Year at the little joint. The single TV set hanging from a corner on the ceiling buzzed in and out on Times Square.
Denny was the last to show up, finding Vaughn a few seats away from anyone else at the bar. He seemed to have a GPS on the Persuasive Papers staff, or at least, he seemed to like partying with them as he was sure to be at Sully's every New Years. Denny dropped his coat on the floor and spun onto the barstool beside him. "Hey, man! Happy New Year!"
"Ain't new yet," Vaughn grumbled into his glass.
Denny slapped his shoulder. "Aw, it seems I got here too late. You're already the mean drunk."
Vaughn rolled his eyes, slipping down lower into his seat.
"Eh, I'm just kidding. Hey, haven't you seen Molly yet?" Denny nudged his arm.
"What? No," Vaughn said, sitting up straighter. He hadn't seen her come in as it became more difficult to get from one side of the bar to the other with the people packing in.
"She said she was texting Candace," he said. "She doesn't look so good."
"Well, aren't you supposed to be dating her now?" Vaughn asked. "You go be her shoulder to cry on or whatever."
Denny stopped swinging his legs and looked at him funny. "Huh? You mean she didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what?" Vaughn jerked back in his seat.
He blinked blankly at his silver-haired friend for a second before smiling. Denny turned to the busy bar, looking down at his hands folded on the counter. "We decided not to go out again. Thought it was for the best."
"Huh…?" Vaughn shook his head, the alcohol in his stomach trickling its influence on his swaying vision. He reached out to steady Denny even though he wasn't moving. "But you guys… How'd you screw it up?!"
"Me?!" Denny defended himself, swatting his friend's grip away. He did a double take and snapped his fingers in front of Vaughn's nose. "Hey, man, you out of it or something?"
"No…" Vaughn's chest rumbled, and he paused before deciding he didn't need to throw up after all. He shook his head and got to his feet, rubbing his eyes in hopes of clearing them. "What'd you say again? Where is she?"
"Back corner across from the TV," Denny pointed. He pushed Vaughn forward, making the man stagger. "And get ahold of yourself! I know your tolerance is better than this."
Vaughn waved at his friend and started sidling through the people. He dodged dancers and couples and laughing drunks. The background music was completely drowned out by the chatter. He spotted Alice at the bar alone, and he stopped. He wondered for a minute before he caught sight of Molly in the booth the men who were playing cards had vacated. She had red-rimmed eyes, a bright screen illuminating her chin, and a mess of glasses on the table in front of her. Seeing her rather pathetic condition sobered him up a good deal, and he marched the rest of the way.
He stopped awkwardly in front of her table, hands in his pockets and a frown on his lips. Molly's phone buzzed, and she quickly started button crunching out a reply.
Vaughn reached into his back pocket and brought out his ancient flip phone. It was cheap, and it served its menial purpose. He carefully spelled out the text and pressed send, watching Molly for the reaction to get her attention.
Molly's brow furrowed, and she suddenly looked up. She squinted. "Vaughn? How'd… how'd you get here so fast?"
"I'm Superman," he sarcastically replied, motioning for her to scoot over. He thought she understood, but he wound up sitting on one of her legs. He forcibly moved it, and she leaned and allowed him to push her down the booth to fit. "What are you doing?"
"Just… texting… Candace…" she answered, her tongue protruding slightly between her lips as she concentrated on her phone. "She's got this… cute festival back home… with all these competitions… and stuff… and she's got a job… with her Grandma… and sister… and everything's… fine…"
"Oh. Okay," Vaughn said, resting his elbow and holding up his chin as he watched her. "Glad she's doing well. But I was asking what you were doing about all of these?"
Molly slowly looked up and focused on the cocktail glass Vaughn was gesturing to. Or rather, the dozens of them. She blinked. "It's like… it's like they keep multiplying. They're like rabbits… these glasses… somebody better get 'em fixed… ha!" she snorted at her joke.
Vaughn put his hand over the screen of her phone and pushed it down under the table. Molly finally looked at his face. "Molly, are you okay?"
"Oh, I'm fine!" She said, much perkier. She snatched up the only cocktail glass that wasn't empty. It smelled like sour blueberries. "Her life is perfect! She's doing great, and she doesn't need little ole meeeee. It's like she died, but she can still text me from heaven to rub it in my face how frickin' great it is!"
He chuckled at that image, watching Molly down her drink. "She's not dead. Just gone. She needs to move on, and… so do you."
"How can you tell me that?" Molly whirled on him, jabbing him in the chest with her finger. "You were supposed to be in love with her! Some committer you are…"
Vaughn would have been insulted or at least he would have tried to explain that it was something he had bottled away with plans to get over it himself on his own time, but Molly seemed suddenly fascinated with his button-up shirt. She stuck two fingers between a button gap, opening and closing it like it was the most interesting thing around. "Molly, what the hell…?"
"Peekaboo!" She said. Molly started laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world, rocking and falling backwards into the booth in paralyzed giggles.
"I told you she looked bad," Denny was before their table, a smile on his face despite the scowl on Vaughn's.
"Just help me get her up," Vaughn said, pulling on Molly's limp arm.
Denny obliged, pulling Molly's other arm and getting into the seat beside her. Molly groped around until her hand landed on his curly hair. She smirked and gave his head a pat. "Sh…"
"Why is she shushing you?" Vaughn asked suspiciously.
"Drunk people, right?!" Denny laughed uneasily, stroking Molly's hair from where she was laying on his shirt front.
"Ten, nine, eight, seven!" The cheer rose up, louder and louder around them as more people looked to the television set.
Vaughn had to take it at face value and shrug it off. He stood up, pulling his black shirt closed where Molly had fiddled with it. "Come on, let's get her out of here."
"Six, five, four!" Allen was sitting on the bar top with Luke and Hamilton. Rod and Gill were too busy watching the ball drop with everyone else to care to get them down. Alice looked around and saw Vaughn and Denny at the door, struggling to dress Molly who had jelly legs and a case of the giggles.
"My scarf!" Molly gasped, pulling it from Vaughn and burying her face in it. Denny held her on her feet from her underarms while Vaughn snatched his jacket and held open the door, taking a mental note to pay Wallace for both his and Molly's technically stolen drinks.
"Three, two, one! Happy New Year!" Everyone laughed and clapped and jumped for joy. Tina was out of it enough to find her New Year's kiss with Allen, which was enough of a distraction that no one paid much attention to Louis scrambling to sing Auld Lang Syne in its proper text.
Raucous celebration roared behind them as they hobbled out onto the silent curb. When the door shut, the noise was instantly muffled to a steady thrum, and the cars racing past became the loudest thing around. Streetlamps covered with slushy snow illuminated the wet pavement.
"Woo! It's so hot," Molly announced, pitching forward away from Denny.
Vaughn hurried and caught Molly by the shoulders. He looked at her pasty pale face in bafflement. "God, Molls, I've never seen you this wasted…"
Denny noticed the smile cracking on Vaughn's face and joined in with a laugh. Molly didn't know why everyone was so amused. She just wanted out of her coat.
"You wanna see if that cab's empty?" Vaughn nodded towards the approaching headlights.
Denny ran to the curb and waved to signal, but the yellow car flew past. He kicked and spun at the failure, sighing and walking down the sidewalk. He waited there for the next one.
"You forgot your…" Molly hiccupped, holding a hand over her mouth in surprise. She held out the scarf to him. "Your scraf…"
"I didn't forget my scarf; you stole it," Vaughn amended, not bothering to take it from her as he still had to hold her up by the shoulders to keep her standing.
Molly noticed and after producing the scarf multiple times to no avail, she slung it over his shoulder. "There ya go… nice and toasty. Happy Christmas."
"Thanks," he acknowledged the gesture, hiking up the coat he still didn't have on that was slipping off of his arm.
A taxi slowed at Denny's incessant waving. He spoke to the driver a second, and he motioned for Vaughn and Molly to follow. "He said it's his last stop of the night – make it quick!"
Molly suddenly regained her strength, and she ran to meet Denny. She was about to pass the taxi entirely, but he steered her to the back seat. She hopped in and slid to the middle. Vaughn slipped on his jacket and righted the scarf, going around the car to get in the side Denny wasn't taking.
Once the doors slammed shut, Vaughn said to the driver: "Crescent."
"Got it," the man nodded, shifting into gear and pulling away.
"Crescent?" Denny asked. Molly was bouncing between them like she was on hyper drive. "Your apartment?!"
"Well, where else are we supposed to take her? I don't know where she lives!" Vaughn grouched.
The streetlights hit the car in rapid bursts, giving them their only light in the blackness. Denny shrugged. "I don't know… a hotel or something…?"
Vaughn's silence said it all.
"You're right. Too sketchy."
"Can we sing a song?" Molly asked. When she wasn't immediately answered, she asked again. "Can we sing a song? Just a nice one?"
"No, we're not singing," Vaughn said.
"Oh, come on, Vaughn!" Molly shoved his shoulder. "I'm sure you won't suck! I mean… you can't suck at everything…"
Denny laughed much too hard for Vaughn's tastes. Molly clapped. "Okay, here we go!"
"Nothing's happening," Denny observed, regaining his breath.
"You were supposed to start singing," Molly said.
"Sing what?" Vaughn asked, leaning against the window and staring out.
"Oh," she hummed. She thought a moment before she started at a ghastly volume. "Imagine all the people!"
"Hey, quiet back there, missy!" The driver shouted above her, turning onto the right street.
"Living… in harmonyyyyyy," she carried on the note in a whisper. "Eee-eee!"
"Okay, here we are… thank God…" Vaughn added as an afterthought, jumping out of the car the minute the brakes were applied.
Vaughn paid the driver as Denny pulled Molly from the car. Her heels slipped on the icy sidewalk, and she clutched to Denny for dear life. "Holy shit!"
"Sorry about our friend," Vaughn apologized as the window went up.
"Nothing new, son," the taxi driver laughed. "You take care!"
"Happy New Year," Vaughn waved as the car sped off again. He hopped up the steps to meet Denny and Molly at the locked door.
"Where are we? Are we going to McDonald's?" Molly asked, hiccupping again in Denny's arms. She had him in a hug around the waist, and she was slinking down fast.
"Yeah, get in," Vaughn unlocked the door and held it open wide. Once everyone was inside, they had to take the stairs to the third floor. Of course, Molly whined the whole way until they were at door sixty-eight.
Vaughn had the key ready, so it wasn't long before they all tumbled ungracefully into his tiny, one bedroom apartment. There was a single window in the kitchen, but enough light once he flipped the switch. An overstuffed sofa and armchair were crowded around a television, and the kitchenette had a small, island counter space with a dining table. Two doors led to a bathroom and a bedroom.
"Uh, where do I put her?" Denny asked, watching Vaughn shrug out of his jacket and toss the keys on a nearby end table.
"Anywhere comfortable. She's probably going to pass out any minute," he replied, hanging their coats on the back of one of the kitchen chairs and retrieving glasses.
"You sit tight here, Molly, okay?" Denny said, letting her fall back into the armchair.
Molly held onto him like a clingy baby. "Where you gooooing…?"
Denny pried her hands off of his shirt collar and tucked them next to her where she was quickly melting. "Just… nowhere. I'm right here."
"Yay…" she cheered listlessly.
Vaughn returned with a glass of water for each of them. He held it before Molly. "Here. Drink this."
Molly smacked her lips, taking the glass and downing all of it. She sighed. "All I can taste is… blueberry… blueberry cocktails… blueberry cocktails are gross."
"Yes, they are," Vaughn answered patiently, sipping from his own glass.
"Like… really gross," she insisted, cuddling up and hugging her knees.
Just when they thought all was well, Molly began to sniffle. Combined with the hiccups she had, it became an uncontrollable flood of tears and broken sobs. She buried her face behind her forearms.
Vaughn and Denny looked to each other. Denny awkwardly poked her foot. "Hey… you okay?"
"N-no!" She whimpered, huffing in more air.
Denny paled as Vaughn suddenly remembered and picked up his phone, dialing the correct number. "Was it… a guy? Your family? A… speeding ticket, maybe?"
Molly shook her head to each of these questions.
Vaughn furrowed his brow. "What? Say that again? …Sorry, Wallace, I think I heard you wrong. I said, I'll pay you back in the—oh… what?"
Denny looked up in curiosity at his friend, rubbing Molly's knee and hoping it was comforting. "What's up?"
"Okay, thanks… Yeah, you have a great night, Wallace," Vaughn closed his phone and gave Denny a confused look. "Someone paid for our drinks already."
"Weird," he agreed, taking up the same expression as Vaughn. "You think it was your boss?"
"Could be," he shrugged.
"Hey, I'm gonna get a refill for her," Denny took Molly's water glass and took his time with it in the kitchen.
Vaughn sighed, knowing the stick had been passed to him. He sat on the floor next to the armchair, holding his glass of water in his lap. Molly continued to choke and sniffle. "Molly? You want to talk about Candace?"
"No one wants to talk about Candace!" She argued, but at least he had finally struck a chord. Molly revealed her swollen, big brown eyes with leaky tears. Her breath still smelled like too many artificially sweetened cocktails. "Nobody cares. Everyone's already forgotten about her… like she never happened…"
"That's not…" Vaughn had to admit though – everyone had forgotten the blue-haired, shy accountant. But it wasn't supposed to be mean. "It's not because they don't want to forget her. They just have to in order to get on with the day. Everyone misses her. A lot. So… it's not just you."
Molly seemed to sober up, and she gave him a soft smile despite the doubt in her voice. "But who's next? We can't all stay together forever. We'll all go our separate ways after this and forget everyone and all of the crazy things we've done, and we might look back some day and think… 'Yeah, that was just a job I once had…' I don't want that. I want to belong somewhere… and I want to stay there…"
Denny was leaning against the sink, listening in at a safe distance.
Vaughn reached and took the blanket from the coach, cloaking it over Molly. "Well, no one's going anywhere any time soon. Just make the most of it. And get some sleep."
Contradicting her apparent drowsiness, Molly's hand shot out and grabbed Vaughn's wrist. She looked scared. "But what if I leave? Will you forget about me, too? Will everyone forget? Like Candace?"
Vaughn shook his head. "No one's going to forget. I promise…"
Molly seemed satisfied with his answer, and her grip loosened as her arm went limp and her eyes fluttered shut. Her lips parted in a sigh, and she grew still. Vaughn put her arm back onto the chair and adjusted the blanket before heading to the kitchen.
"She was really good friends with Candace, wasn't she?" Denny whispered, careful not to wake her even though Molly was out like a light.
Vaughn got some more water, but he didn't drink it immediately. He nodded, looking at the back of the armchair. "I think she counted on her more than Candace did. It's funny; I always thought it was the other way around."
Denny shoved his hand in his pocket and shook his head. "I guess it'll just take some time…"
"Yeah."
"It's probably a lot like how I feel without Popper," he said thoughtfully.
"Denny…" Vaughn chastised, drinking his water.
"Hey, she hasn't texted me back! We broke up, and I want him out of that apartment," Denny argued, producing his phone with no new messages as proof.
Vaughn rolled his eyes. "It's a bird."
"Oh, what, so I can't talk about my feelings?"
"Sh! She's gonna wake up!"
"He's special to me!"
"Will you shut up?!"
"You sound just like Lanna!"
"Say that again, and I'll clock you."
"Sure! Let's all talk about a friend who moved away and ignore a kidnapped hostage!"
"Denny!"
"No, I wanna talk about this!"
"If you wake her, I swear—!"
Molly slept on soundly despite her cramped position, not hearing a word of their argument. Not even in her dreams.