Page 97 of Beyond The Maples
"No way, not allowed over there," says the other sarcastically.
I raise my eyebrows at their blatant lies.
Briggs leans in closer.
"What are you guys doing later?"
I lean forward conspiratorially. "No idea. What did you have in mind?"
"There's another pub around here that's..." He looks around, eyes shifting to the people mingling close to us.
"Filled with fewer prying eyes and listening ears," finishes his brother.
"We are IN with the TWINS!" Farra shouts, throwing her hands into finger guns at the boys, and I almost choke on my drink. "Hey, how old are you guys?" she spits out randomly.
"27" Briggs says, a little too quickly. Which has Mack smacking him and laughing.
"We are not, you dunce, we're 21." Giving his brother a look that says,what is wrong with you?
It doesn't matter though, because Farra is not paying attention, despite being the one to ask the question.
She's spotted Leo across the room and shrieks, running up and dragging him to the dance floor. Apparently, it takes exactly four drinks to turn my friend into a lunatic. Leo mouths a silent "Help"as Farra twirls around him in what can only be described as dance fighting.
I chuckle. "She may need to go to bed, but I'm up for a little adventure," I offer.
The boy's glance at each other.
"What?" I ask.
"Well, I don't know if you want to come. without your friends. It's kinda boring. We mostly gamble," Briggs says apologetically.
"Oh, well, it's your lucky day. I've been dying to play," I retort, patting my new friends on the back.
It took almost no convincing to get Leo to take Farra home to bed. He was pretty drunk, and despite his initial worry about me, I reminded him that I used to do this for a living and I could absolutely take care of myself.
I duck out of the establishment, pretending to leave with Farra and Leo as my cover to Deacon. His distraction with a blonde beauty he'd run into was good timing. I don't examine how last year this exact situation would've left me with a roiling gut of jealousy that I'd likely have suffered with all night. Now I just feel relief.
The twins lead me to the other side of town as they chat away. Mostly making fun of each other for past indiscretions. Briggs asks several questions about Farra, clearly smitten, and I'm relieved to find out that Mack is, as he puts it, "Betrothed to the smartest girl on the continent." To which his brother argued that Mack left said girl behind, in a small town without a word, and he just doesn't understand what being single means. Listening to them bicker with each other should be concerning, but is oddly charming.
At one point, I really thought they'd actually get into a fistfight arguing over which one of them had broken their arm as a toddler by trying to jump from their tin roof to the neighbour's. It was hard to follow. Not only do they look identical, but they almost speak their own language; all I can do is watch as they sling insults, jokes––and sometimes even odd compliments between each other at a rapid pace.
"Ahh, here we are!" Mack says enthusiastically.
We walk into a plain building to a completelyempty room.
"If you two are planning to murder me, you really didn't need to go to all this trouble," I joke.
Briggs looks mildly offended at the thought, but Mack laughs and leads me down some steps near the back of the hallway. I get a thick hit of déjà vu as we arrive at what looks like a cellar door, and Mack knocks three times. These can't be the same Games that come to Strayton. There is way too much government regulation here. Briggs excitedly grabs my hand as the door opens, and Mack slips the door guy a coin before strutting into the place.
Walking into the bar is like stepping into another world.
My mouth gapes as I take in the buzzing basement. Where the last bar was all old wood, simple charm, and government-issued lanterns, this place haselectricity. I'm drawn to the twinkling sign that flickers by the door, readingThe Wire. I stare unblinking, scared that if I look away for a second, I'll miss the florescent hum of the lights. I look to the twins behind me and give them an honest, blinding grin. I can't help it.
There are small bulbs clinging to wire that hang delicately throughout the ceiling rafters. I make note of small bar, and cards tables where gruff men and women play different variations of the games I grew up playing. Music draws my attention, and I audibly gasp. Some people turn their heads in annoyance, but I really couldn't care less.
"Are these...?!" I murmur to no one in particular, not registering if the boys have been following me around I flit through the room like a hungry bird.
"Speakers? Yes. Have you really never seen this stuff before?" asks Mack, confused. He doesn't say it with judgement, I realize; more like pity. He wipes a hand over his face. "Gods, I forgot how sheltered you lot are," he mutters.
