People of great power are often respected and admired, as though they are somehow better than us. But at the end of the day, they're human, just as human as me. Besides a slight variation of genes, We... Are... All... The... Same.
And I'm starting to understand the saying: never meet your heroes.
Somnia slams her mug down after taking another swig. Her crown like braids loosely unravel; her blonde hair is disheveled as she lies face down on the table. "Stupid iiidiots! Not my fault they attacked while I was asleep. Right? What did they expect of me? To have clairvoyance?"
From the books I've read, the best way to make friends with someone is to simply listen to them, and comfort them, to be a void of sunshine.
"It does seem unrealistic. I think you did the best you could under those circumstances."
She lurches up, throwing her hands out. "Thank you! That's what I told them, stubid crumbs cutting my pay."
Most people under these circumstances would tell her that she's drank too much, and force her stop, but I already know what she's going to say.
She takes another swig. "You know what... next time I'm going to punch those idiots."
Might as well save face. "I will help you plan a more legislative approach if you take a break from the drinking and eat your food." I beseech.
"Eh? Stop drinking? We're the High Rollers, we do what we want! If my body wants beer, then I want beer! Cmon! You're only on your third drink."
Yep, it seems I might be the clairvoyant one, cause I saw this coming.
She leans over the table as beer stains her striped bodysuit. "What's got you all grumpy, your always so smiley-" she begins chuckling. "Wai- no you're not, but now your extra Mr Frowny Face?" She pinches my face into a smile.
"My friend died."
"...oh yea." She begins giggling. "whoopsie, forgot about that." She pats me on the head. "There, there, I'm sure everything will be okay."
"Thank you, I feel much better now." I say sarcastically.
Pointing at me, she falls back in her chair. "Hey... wait... Didn't he backstab you in that tournament, though?"
"If you tell a bird to flap its wings, you can't be upset when it takes flight. As a High Roller, all we know is our sins, and greed is a sin all the same."
"Oh, wow, you so wise sensei." She rocks back in her chair with a hiccup.
With a wilting sigh, the overbearing weight of my existence suddenly hits me and I match Somnia's depressive slouching.
She chuckles. "You and me both pal, how about I get you another drink? It will- help do something for the pain; at least that's what I've been telling myself."
Her sorrow is caused by an overuse of one sin, while mine is the lack of desire to commit any.
The food truck owner walks over. "We're closing up Somnia; go get drunk somewhere else." His eyes widen when he notices me. "You're the first, and likely last male she's ever brought here; so if you leave her, it's her intoxicated blood on your hands."
It seems I've just opened pandora's box.
"Drinks are on meee!" She raises the empty mug.
The gruff man swipes it away. Despite her previous generous words, I'm the one pulling out my wallet. With a nod, the man takes it, before walking back to the truck.
He gives me one last death-glare before closing the shutter.
With a sigh, I help Somnia up as she puts her arm around my shoulder, stumbling with every step.
"Sooo, whatcha wanna do now, Coffy? I could go for a drink!"
So I've seen. "That is not a new nickname?"
"Coffy coffy coffy, its perfecto for you, you said you like coffee, so... coffee coffy coffee!"
"That sentence made no sense."
"Yoou make noo senze."
"You aren't the most responsible adult, and that's saying a lot, considering my parents sold me to organ harvesters."
"Silencio! Now, take me back to my room, lacky."
"You could have also said please."