The Hidden Genre (C. H. H. Ain't Dead 01)

chapter eighteen

ISAAC PULLED up to the beach bar. He put the car to sleep, rolled down the window, and laid back to stare at the stars that applied social distancing. The waves were violent, unlike how he wanted the night to go. Especially since Luke wouldn’t have asked to meet him if it wasn’t serious.

   The celebrity’s decision to move East, where Decep Records’ HQ was, was a decision he made on his own. He knew what he wanted and ran straight for it. No advice needed. Therefore, him asking to meet Isaac showed his indecisiveness.

    “Adon,” said Isaac, eyes up, “please give me the words to say tonight.”

   “Get out the car, dude,” said a man, who sat on the bonnet of his jeep with a girl by his side, “the view’s much better out here.”

   With a shy smile, Isaac took the guy’s advice and got a raised glass for his bravery.

   The entrance to the bar was inviting as the doors received him with open arms. Upon entry he was hit by the stench of liquor, while the speakers threw out a relaxed vibe.

   Luke was at the counter with his head in his hands and fingers digging into his skull. Isaac took a breath, one deep breath to calm himself down like he was taught at North High. The celebrity switched position in a split second. He now sipped his drink, but in the same rhythm as the music. A few more blinks was necessary to confirm what had actually occurred.

   Maybe this would be easier than Isaac’s mind made it out to be.

   “Hold on, pretty boy,” a buff woman appeared out of thin air, “I need to see some ID.”

   “ID?” Isaac mimicked as the words struggled for definition in his brain. “Oh, identification . . . here we go.”

   “22, hey?” she gave him a thorough glance. “You too young for me, move along.”

   Isaac froze at the rejection, or was it confusion? The woman moved on before he could come to a conclusion.

   “If I didn't know better,” said Isaac to Luke, after the paralysis wore off, “I would think you've been here in that same outfit drinking since Sunday.”

   He got no response. It may be worse than Isaac originally thought.

   “Can I get you something to drink, sir?” asked the bartender. “A beer, cider, juice, anything but –”

   “Water will be fine please,” said Isaac, innocently.

   He took his seat next to Luke after he got a dirty look from the bartender, who was meant to make him feel welcomed. So much for customer service.

   “What's his problem?” Isaac asked Luke.

   “He can't understand why we come to a bar if we just going to drink water,” came the reply.

   “Thank you,” Isaac got his glass. He turned to the celebrity, “Are you hinting to that being water in yours?”

   “I need a sober mind to make the right decision,” said Luke, “liquor does the exact opposite. So I rather not risk it . . .”

   A wave of relief came upon Isaac. Sober minded Luke would listen to reason. He did so whenever Mr. Banner spoke. Surely the son was no different, “Why am I here Luke? What did you want to speak about?”

   “Ruth?”

   Was that it? Did Luke invite him, all the way to a place he hadn’t been before, just to ask about Ruth? Did she tell him about their potential relationship?