Hopelessly Devoted to Misery {Pokémon Fanfiction}

Chapter 6: First Assignment

There's a certain sense of relief you have when there are no chains shackling you. The weight that's been lifted makes you feel as light as a Tranquill feather. Four hundred twenty pokédollars is being offered to be taken off my chest? Who wouldn't fall for that?

A cynical Tristan Babineaux for one. At the very least, he would weigh his options, do solid research, and check with current publications.

(Especially while referring to himself in the third person.)

"Are you, yknow, sure?" Cilan asks me. My finger interlock as they hold up my head at my chin. My elbows rest on the bar counter as I focus silently, eyes closed, as if I'm meditating. I know for a fact I wouldn't be doing anything as meaninglessly cool as meditation. Cilan smiles at my outward appearance of focus.

"Err...nice pose you've got going there," he comments as I open an eye. I see he's grinning to himself happily as he probably thinks he's clever. It is already eight closing in on nine p.m. the day after my encounter with the girl. With my acting, I definitely would call it a...foreign exchange.

"Yes...I've been developing it for awhile now," I lie, muttering to him sarcastically. In all seriousness, I consider the proposal Cress described to me prior as plausible. It's a mixture of the factors of curiosity and desperation—admittedly more the latter in my opinion.

"So you're, um, actually going to take us up on proposal? I didn't think I'd ever see the day. Tristan taking the initiative," Cilan smiles eagerly. I can't help but agree with the bartender. I am a person who lost his motivation a long time ago. And this sudden surge of initiative I'm taking? It's rather uncharacteristic of me.

"Not like I have much of a choice..." I say to him. In my eyes, it's a sink or swim with my enormous debt looming over me. Even as I try to deny it outright, I know that me taking the first step in anything like this would amaze those who only knew my recent side. It amazes me. It amazes Cilan. I can't imagine my former self's reaction if he saw this.

"Well, um, Tristan...Cress already told you. We want you to help us help people. We bartenders try our best to, yknow, soothe the restless souls that walk in for a drink. And we hope you, er, helping people in your own way will help yourself," Cilan awkwardly explains once more. I wave him off, already knowing much too many details of what I need to do. In fact, it seems as though he's leaving out some details that Cress oh so helpfully provided previously. As I look back at Cilan clad in his bartender uniform, I just hope I won't have to wear something similar or be on the same side of the counter as any of the three brothers.

"Sounds like a load of Tauros crap," I say to him. My eyes dart somewhere else, anywhere else, other than at Cilan. I hear him laugh softly again. Now that I think about it, he really laughs a lot at what I say. Maybe I should just become a comedian.

"I understand your skepticism," Cilan nods as he pulls a clean white towel taut in his hands. "But you have to remember one thing Tristan..."

"I really have no other choice, right?" I finish for him. I curse to myself. Of course I have no other choice. This restaurant is basically a lifeline to my existence. It provides food and drinks and sometimes shelter. I'm in debt here and in my apartment rent. Taking even one of those away could make my life easier.

But is the risk involved now worth the reward?

"I'm glad you, yknow, understand. Shall we introduce you to, er, your partner before we get started?" Cilan asks me with a smile. His crisp uniform gives me a sour taste in my mouth. His cleanliness he's managed to make with this situation astounds me. How is he able to wrap this all up so well?