Prologue
The Pain
Prologue – Gathering Storm
The door of the car was instinctively opened. Following a harsh vomit as if it was a pressurized water, Kane Holloway’s eyesight slowly returned from black to blurry accompanied by tears. He took couple breaths to stabilize and reaching for the first thing he needs to do, a routine that he followed for years. Cigarettes.
Once he recovered to a certain state, he had his overthinking to come up with couple emergency plans. He lost his memory for the last two years, probably the cause was overdose of drugs as he saw pills and bottles around. He checked the glovebox to witness the title deed of the bar he inherited from his adoptive father. He was close to the adress. The bar was inactive for many years after his adoptive father’s death. He thought maybe the reason why he is close to there was to open it back again since he quit his job at the univercity as a tenure professor two years ago. A shard he remembered at least. It was not a bad choice of act to check the place at least.
Sun hurting his eyes and temples, a feast for migraine it was. Every bone in ache, he got back to the car in halfway, forgetting the keys for the bar. It was an underground bar, not really popular back in the day. Slowly descending and checking stairs’ condition which was promising as they seem strong and neat, he didn’t want any unnecessary cost to revise the place. Checking every corner, his visualization concluded that he would be able to get this place running about a week. Even found a whiskey bottle. Why not celebration? He thought and sat down on the old bar counter to drink his whiskey in peace and dark. He knew he would pass out and see nightmares that he couldn’t give a meaning into them.
A week later, the place was finally on the verge of opening. The days had been relentless, building connections for supplies, repairing what was broken, upgrading what could be salvaged. The result was an old-school, wood-heavy underground bar, dimly lit, resembling a medieval inn buried beneath the modern world. It was a bar, a museum, a library all at once.
He filled it with relics of the Middle Ages: battered armor, maces, lances, swords, noble garments—objects that carried weight and memory. Alongside them stood his own books, mixed with rare volumes that would make any true bookworm tremble with excitement. Shaping the place gave him a strange satisfaction, like raising a child with his own hands.
And yet, contentment never arrived.
A dull, guilt-ridden ache sat in his chest, heavy and unresolved, accompanied by a relentless migraine. He couldn’t explain it, but he was certain the root of it lay somewhere in the past two years. Years he could no longer clearly recall. He knew he had done something unforgivable. His instincts had never betrayed him before.
His hands trembled. His eyes were bloodshot. He smoked with a monk-like focus, drifting between cigarettes and books, suspended in a quiet, meditative haze.
He needed a distraction. He had earned one.
Life gave a distraction he hoped for. A sound of woman heels, slowly getting stronger from the source, stairs. Double barrel shotgun, the first thing he grabbed under the counter. Never trust to a paranoid man, as the man will not trust.
“I am sorry to intrude.” a youth voice was arisen before her silhouette.
Kane was on alert. The silhouette become much more visible for deductions. Black silk pants that were not really ironed well, sharing the same fate with wrinky white shirt and a small tie she was wearing. She was holding a woman’s bag that were not much a fit to her clothing and some papers. Quite the blackish eyes, unnoticable make-up with a healthy white skin, ruined hair from changing colors a lot, now seems to be red with a modern bangs in front of her. It was an easy read. This toyish young student was looking for a job, and intruding a place like this, she was desperate to find one.
The moment she was going to speak, she didn’t have the chance.
“You are hired madam. You’ll have double the minimum wage as well as the tips. Flexible hours of your own choice. I’ll train you to learn. Be a good bartender and server.”
Voicing out his reads while slowly turning pages after and after.
She was a kind of shell-shocked to hear conclusions that were accurate. Her stress peaked as well, from the power of fear from the unknown trait of humankind. Kane knew he had to comfort her now as he was responsible for turning her alert on.
“Please take a sit, I assume you don’t like whiskey but let me prepare a cocktail that would suit you.” Kane said.
“Thank you, Boss?” She said with a confused and smirking face while taking a seat in front of the counter.
Kane doesn’t rush it. Nobody rushes a Sazerac.
He reaches for a heavy rocks glass and coats the inside with absinthe, slow rotation, like he’s marking territory. The glass goes aside, not forgotten, just waiting.
In another glass, he works quietly. Sugar meets bitters, crushed together until they stop arguing and become something darker. He adds the whiskey — not flashy, not loud — and stirs with intention, not speed. The ice clinks once, maybe twice. No show. No wasted movement.
Then he comes back to the first glass. The absinthe is poured out — its job is done. What stays is the ghost.
The drink is strained in. Clean. Precise. He takes a strip of lemon peel, twists it just enough to wake the oils, runs it around the rim like a final signature, then discards it. No garnish. A Sazerac doesn’t decorate itself.
He slides the glass across the bar.
No straw. No explanation.
She takes the glass and sips the taste. It was awfully tasty even though it was strong.
“This is very good. What is it called? Simple questions.
“Sazerac, America’s first cocktail to some. This drink watched cities rot and still asked for another glass.” Kane said while preparing one for himself as well.
The woman was checking around and mostly the books. Sipping often, no eye-contact, just eyeing the books.
“Philosophy or Psychology, you study? And bless me with a name please.” Kane said.
“Lily it is, and it is psychology. May I ask why didn’t you include history as an option as I was looking at books that were mostly about history.”
“And the little lady is smart. Easy answer. You don’t have the type to be an historian.” Kane said before coughing harsh with the disturbance of cigarette among his lips.
“It is Kane Holloway, pleasure to meet you.” Kane took a shot of the cocktail along with couple pills that were sitting on the counter.
“It seems I have wasted a lot of paper of Cvs, didn’t think it would be that easy to get hired. I really appreciate the chance you are giving to me.” Lily said.
Kane was a little bit disappointed as he thought she would add the title “sir” at the end of the sentence. Not that he cares, it should have been the common sense and she needs to be aware of that in different situations. The youth, he thought.
“I also appreciate finding a personnel without sharing any job listing to anywhere. You are more than qualified to become a good bartender. My only warning is that I want you to learn this as an art, not as a job. You will get a lot of experience with people, your field, huh? Be ready for the difference between reality and human psychology things you learned at school.” Kane shared his perspective honestly.
She was glad. Truthfully glad for this opputunity. She realized the things he said was not dull statements, they were the reality. The reality was also heavy, she could feel the heavy burden she will meet in life soon enough. Life was not fair, it was the first time for her to realize most people doesn’t even have a chance to feel comfort. His eyes told her. She didn’t know what to feel, lucky for herself or sad for him. She decided to feel gratitude as she will have a lot of chances to grow as a person and to-be psychologist.
“I didn’t think I would open this place today, but you know what? Ask your friends to come here if they are free. Your first goal is to learn how to pour a beer and serve it to your friends.” Kane offered.
“Of course, boss. I will not let you down. My friends are quite the alcoholics, they will be sure to drink a lot but still behave.” She finished her drink as well.
She was excited. She took a tour of the bar while Kane was reading a book. She was excitted not just because she found a good paying job to support her finance, she was excited because...
She found him. The infamous Kane Holloway. The professor at a very early age, groundbreaking reveals and discoveries of history, and lastly and most importantly cruel sociology books about human nature that would bring chaos to the field.
She had a lot to learn from a retired middle-aged proffessor that had hit and run to the field of sociology with his reasoning about the human nature. She wouldn’t waste this chance she tried very hard for.
