The background music floating in the bar was soothing, between classic, jazz, and popular songs. It tuned down the loud laughter of Vanessa, sparing Misha’s ears, whereas the familiar scent of citrus put him at ease and calmed his lousy mood. Whenever his gaze landed on the cozy bar, he’d feel somewhat refreshed. The place had a friendly atmosphere, warm and comforting.

Still, Misha couldn’t forget the antlers on his head so easily. Hence, the bar lost a bit of its charm in his eyes. Even the Christmas tree, the wreaths, and the garlands annoyed the hell out of him.

With a drawn-out sigh, Misha walked straight to the wooden counter. Meanwhile, Vanessa finally decided to leave him off the hook and took a broom to sweep the hardwood floor. Even if she’d rather tease her friend, she had work to do.

Like every evening, Misha dutifully cleaned his work area, and once done, he turned around to inventory the different bottles of alcohol on the vintage shelf. He bent down to note what was missing, and as he did so, a large hand tousled his hair, startling him into freezing.

“Your hair is damp. Don’t you know how to use the hairdryer?” a husky voice asked near Misha’s ear, making him suck in a breath.

Goodness, when would his friend learn that ‘personal space’ was a thing?! Even though Dereck knew he wasn’t good with physical contact, he always stood close to him like a second skin! 

“Of course it’s damp! It’s snowing outside if you didn't notice yet,” Misha grunted, slapping the man’s wrist with the back of his hand. “Anyway, I’m not in the mood to listen to your lectures, so could you please shut up?”

Misha lifted his head to look into the eyes of the tall, bulky man by his side. Dereck’s gaze was genuinely gentle and warm, just like his smile. His trimmed black beard hid half of his thin lips, but the dimples in his cheeks were still visible. The curly crew haircut enhanced his sharp facial features yet couldn’t diminish their gentleness.

The dimples deepened when Dereck chuckled. He said, “I won’t lecture, I won’t lecture. But there’s going to be a storm tonight, so the bar will close sooner than usual, probably around midnight. If you want, I can give you a ride back home.”

“Ok,” Misha nodded, giving Dereck the cold shoulder. However, his friend didn’t get the hint and didn’t move an inch—even after a while passed. Thus, Misha had no other choice but to ask, “Can I help you with something?”

“Actually…” Dereck’s voice trailed as he glanced at his friend with a strange expression. He hesitated a second before continuing, “You see, I went to the cemetery to visit my grandmother’s grave this morning. While I was at it, I decided to pay my respects to your mother and sister….”

“Oh, well, thanks,” Misha smiled slightly. The confession took him aback, but a warm feeling soon welled up in his chest. Dereck had no obligation to visit his family’s grave, yet he still took the time to. And for that, he was grateful. 

Dereck didn’t know his mother for long, only two years, and she died when they were both ten years old. In other words, his friend wouldn’t even remember his mother’s face if it weren’t for the old pictures of Mrs. Brown that Misha showed him from time to time. But as for his sister, Dereck knew her pretty well since Misha had always been very close to her. 

“My pleasure,” Dereck chuckled, “But that’s not the point. I may have bumped into your ‘giver of flowers’. You said that no one but you and them were still visiting your family grave, right? So I guess it probably was him.”

“Wait. Him? It’s a man?”

“Well, his back looked like that of a man’s. However, he left without looking back after I hailed him, so I didn’t see his face. He was a bit taller than you, had broad shoulders, and a good fashion sense. Ring a bell?”

Misha did have an idea, and it made him clench his fists until his knuckles turned white.

As if reading his mind, Dereck quickly appeased him, “Don’t worry, I don’t think it was your father. Even if I was quite far away, I can assure you that he wasn’t limping.”

Upon hearing these words, Misha heaved a sigh of relief before lowering his head and closing his eyes. He hadn’t thought of that horrible father of his for a long time, and he sure didn’t want to remember his existence. Instead, he’d rather erase him from his memory altogether.

Years ago, even before Masha’s death, he had cut the man out of his life. However, his mother was still his wife, and his sister, his daughter. So. it wouldn’t be surprising if he were to visit their grave without him knowing. But Misha refused to accept it. That drunkard didn’t have the right to ask for forgiveness, much less kneel in front of those he had let down.

The same could be said for that other insensitive bastard. But then again, only those two had a reason to avoid Misha and secretly lay flowers on his family grave. It was a fact that he had always wittingly disregarded. He didn’t want the mysterious ‘giver of flowers’ to be one of them. In his mind, they were undoubtedly a kind person, not a lowlife bastard that he wanted dead.

Still, Misha couldn’t resist asking, “Was it Gabriel then?”

The name left a bitter taste on his tongue.

“I don’t know. I didn’t see his face as I just said, but it probably wasn’t him.”

“Yeah. You’re right,” Misha gulped before shooing his friend away. “Shoo! Do your job and guard the door, not the damn counter! The bar opens in a few minutes, you know?”

Dereck laughed wholeheartedly, then raked through Misha’s hair once more before leaving him alone, not without saying, “It’s Christmas Eve, Mish’. There won’t be a lot of people coming in today anyway.”

And indeed, the evening was quiet. With Christmas Eve and the soon-to-be storm, only lonely, single, or desperate people came by, drowning their sorrows in alcohol. There were also a few foreign university students that showed up to enjoy the drinks. The university campus was near the neighborhood, and thus the students that couldn’t go back home often spent their Christmas Eve in the bar, chitchatting and laughing. The lively and festive atmosphere surrounding them contrasted vividly with the low-spirited men sitting in the corner of the bar.

All in all, Misha served drinks, ignored the giggles, and chatted with Vanessa, mostly about her three-year-old daughter and her strict teachers. But every time Dereck wasn’t looking, Vanessa forgot everything about her daughter and teachers. She probed for information on the bouncer, asking about his dislikes, favorite dishes, what kind of girls he liked, etc. Her lovely eyes were sparkling, full of expectation.

Misha smiled and didn’t say much every time, silently amused by how his two friends acted like two lovestruck teenagers. He knew very well that Dereck had offered him a ride earlier because he wanted to ask more or less the same things about Vanessa. Again.

However, even if Misha had recommended Vanessa for the job, he hadn’t known her for long—they met less than a year ago! Therefore, he couldn’t answer his friend’s questions most of the time. Dereck didn’t get discouraged, though. The waitress always talked a lot when she was with Misha, and Dereck thus thought that his childhood friend could easily gather information about her without raising suspicions. With this in mind, he sent him to test the water, hoping he could find out whether she was interested in him or not. Funnily enough, Vanessa had asked Misha to do pretty much the same thing.

Ah, love. It made people blind.

Misha was still chatting with Vanessa half an hour before closing time. More specifically, he was listening to her endless blabbering and uttering a small “hm” once in a while, busying himself with cleaning the glasses. But then, someone entered the bar, and Misha couldn’t listen anymore.

The man walked to the counter and sat on a barstool, taking off his scarf, leather gloves, and knit cap. He put them on his thighs under the counter and ordered, “A big glass of vodka, please.”

But Misha didn’t move, his hand frozen in mid-air.

The man’s haircut was different from what he remembered, very formal and plain, and his dark copper hair had gone gray at his temples. Still, his face hadn't changed much over the years: the same emerald eyes, the same shaved-clean chin, the same defined jawline, and the same straight nose. No, that wasn’t right. The nose was slightly crooked since Misha had broken it with a punch the last time they met. But overall, it was the same handsome face he had always known and now haunted his nights. Yet, it was also different. The light that once animated his eyes had dwindled, and they had grown lifeless.

“Didn’t you hear me? A big glass of vodka, please,” the man repeated. 

The familiar low voice brought back many memories to Misha, so many that his brain shut down on him. All coherent thoughts were tossed aside, and he couldn’t answer.

“Oh my, it’s Mr. Laflamme! I thought you wouldn’t come by now,” Vanessa said, a big smile stretching her lips. She had been pestering her history teacher to come over since the start of the semester, and she was glad that he finally showed his face.

“Is that how you greet a client, Miss Abbett?” the man mocked gently.

“Oh please! Don’t act so distant! Oh yeah, let me present you—” Vanessa turned to face Misha and then saw his blank expression, making her forget what she was about to say. “Sweetie, are you feeling unwell?”

Misha didn’t answer. Instead, he heard himself whisper, “Gaby...”

“Do we know each other?” Gabriel asked with a slight frown, scrutinizing the bartender until a flash of understanding glinted in his eyes. But it was already too late.

“Son of a—!” Misha roared before jumping over the counter and gripping the collar of the man’s coat. “You’re so dead!”

Mini theater

Author: MC... Could you please avoid killing the ML so soon in the story? I kind of need him.

MC: *Takes a peek at the synopsis* You’re going to send me back in time anyway, so who cares if I kill him in this timeline? It won’t affect the rest of the story.

Author: Oh, yeah. You’re right. Have fun then.

The abandoned ML: !!??