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The day started like any other. Having gone to bed some time in the middle of the night, again, Brian Littrell once again barely resisted the urge to throw his alarm clock through the room, and settled instead on setting it to snooze another ten minutes before getting up. Once out of bed, he ran through the shower and brushed his teeth while skimming through the paper, before he threw on the first decent outfit he could find and headed for the door. He had a full time job at the local coffee shop - Café Marielle - and his shift usually started around nine in the morning.

Having tried, and failed, at the whole business career man type of thing, Brian had settled on a job with decent pay that was close to home and didn’t require many extra skills. He had worked there for a good two years now, and was second only to the manager, which meant that when he was twenty minutes late to work due to sleeping in for ten minutes, it was usually not a very big deal. And as usual, today was another day where he came running through the back door a few minutes after his shift had started, receiving a “good morning Brian” followed by a grin as welcome from the manager, who now didn’t even need to look up from his desk to know who it was that came running through the door. Most other places would probably not like Brian’s continued tardiness, but here the relaxed atmosphere and the fact that there always seemed to be one too many people working anyway meant that he didn’t have to fear for his job.

Around noon a really tall blonde man and a not so tall and heavily tattooed somewhat balding dark haired man walked through the door, both smiling to the other staff as they walked right through to the back room to find Brian going over the inventory or sending in an order. “Ready to go?” Nick - the tall blonde - asked, poking Brian in the ribs and grinning down at him. “Hey,” AJ - the not so tall heavily tattooed somewhat balding dark haired one - said at the same time, grabbing Brian’s jacket from behind the door and handing it to him.

“Two seconds,” Brian answered, and hit send on his little hand held ordering device. Taking his jacket from AJ, he stuck his head into the managers office and handed him the handheld device. “I sent the order, and am now going out to lunch. Be back in an hour.” The manager looked up from his papers and took the handheld device from him. “It’ll probably be two hours,” he said with a grin, “but don’t worry, I know where to find you if there is a crisis.” Brian grinned back at him, and waved good bye as he felt through the backdoor with Nick and AJ.

They were headed to lunch where they always ate, at Nick and AJ’s bar The BoneDry, named so after a night of heavy drinking and quite a few disasters, the most unforgettable involving shaving of hair and super glue. Who actually came up with the name was something no one to this day could remember, but that didn’t really matter either. The two of them had been talking about opening a bar for as long as Brian could remember, but it was first when they agreed on a name that their dream actually looked like it might become a reality.

Generally most bars wouldn’t be open in the middle of the day, but the BoneDry is different. It opens around noon, and throughout the day you can order sandwiches, burgers and fries to go with your alcohol. Justin, another tall blonde they had met around the same time as the bar had been named, was already there when they arrived. He had worked there for as long as the bar had been open, and was now in charge of opening during the day, and making sure their other two employees were there when they were supposed to during the day. Justin liked to call himself a manager, Nick and AJ jut called him a barista.

Of the other four employees, only one was usually there when Nick, AJ and Brian arrived for lunch every day. Chris, sometimes bartender but mostly chef, arrived for the lunch hour, and stuck around for the rest of the day usually. Not including the few hour nap he usually had in the back around dinner time, before heading back to the kitchen for a few hours in the early evening. The other two bartenders, Sam and Dean, worked part time, usually splitting the week between them and alternating so they both had at least every other weekend off. The last employee was Marcus, the bouncer slash handyman. If it needed fixing, Marcus would take care of it, and if it needed throwing out, he would make sure the person went without so much as a word of argument. He only worked from around dinner time, six or seven p.m., until closing, which was usually around one thirty am.

Whenever they arrived, Chris would usually already be well on his way making their lunch sandwiches, knowing from experience what each of the would eat, and how much of everything should go on. Brian liked his ham and cheese, but would not touch the thing unless there was also a lot of butter, mayonnaise and fresh cucumber slices on it. Nick and AJ were more easy going. Nick would eat just about anything, but favored chicken and curry with a bit of fresh iceberg lettuce these days, and AJ just loved a good old fashioned BLT.

After lunch, Brian would usually stick around a lot longer than he should, and would be back at work at least half an hour late, sometimes even longer. Knowing he was damn lucky to have the boss he had, he would almost always stay longer and work harder than he actually had to, and would never leave the place unless it looked spotless in the back, everything stacked neatly where it belonged.

He never had the late shifts, and was usually out of there by five or six p.m. Returning home to have a quick shower and change his clothes, he was always back at the bar by eight, ready to spend his evenings in the company of his friends. Usually they would all meet up at the bar, and go from there if they had other plans. Although either Nick, AJ or Justin always had to stay at the bar until it closed, the other two were usually always up for something.

Brian was the one who almost always arrived first at the bar, not including the people who actually worked there (although sometimes when he arrived Chris would still be napping in the back). Howie D was usually not far behind, the benefits of having a high paying job at a big realtor business allowing him to set his own work hours for the most part, which usually included starting late, having a long lunch, and leaving whenever he wanted, which was usually around seven so he could be at the bar by eight thirty.

Joey arrived around nine thirty as well, having returned home right after work to have dinner with his wife and spend some time with her before he went off to meet his friends, and she went out shopping or something with her friends. JC - artiste extraordinaire - would arrive around nine, wearing at least one piece of clothing that would make you want to claw your eyes out, and that AJ would eventually borrow and forget to return.

Lance was usually never far behind JC, and had a tendency to come straight from his īworkī, which included bringing the props he had needed at īworkīthat day. Being a hobby-activist meant he would fight for just about any cause, and would gladly stand in the same place for hours in pouring rain or freezing snow, waving a poster or banner around, refusing to move and chanting away whatever catchy phrase they had made up this time. Though some might think this hypocritical, Lance loved demonstrating, loved being an activist, and whatever the cause might be, he would give all of himself for the cause for as long as it lasted, until he found something else to throw himself into. He didnīt make any money off this, which was why he had his little side business online, selling pictures, calendars and the like, which earned him enough money so he didnīt have to worry about bills and the like. Which was a good thing, since he shared a place with JC, who had nothing that could be considered a steady income.

Bringing up the rear was Kevin, Brianīs cousin (he had known him all his life), and the reason Brian had moved to New York in the first place. Kevin was an environmental lawyer, working for some organization or another, fighting big businesses who only cared about profit and didnīt give a fuck about the environment or regulations or anything like that. The job paid Kevin just enough to live comfortably, and that was all he cared about, that and his bike, which he rode just about everywhere in his black, tight little bike shorts and red and black bike jackets, his suits all at the office and his īnormalīclothes in the backpack he brought everywhere. He even had one or two clean changes of clothes at the bar, just in case it was raining and his backpack got soaked.

Whatever they decided to do for the evening, by nine or nine thirty they were all gathered at the bar, talking and having fun, discussing where they were going, what they had done that day, if JC would ever actually have his big break and when it happened, would it be because of a painting or a sculpture or his clothes or something else entirely, would Kevin ever forget to wear his helmet, and would Howie ever answer the question of weather or not his family was one of those families, the kind that could make you disappear if they didnīt like you.

Whatever they ended up doing, by midnight people had started drifting off to bed. Joey and Kevin were usually the first ones to leave, Joey to go home to his wife, and Kevin to go home to his case files and his bed. The others would follow in no particular order, whoever was closing the bar bringing up the rear. This was usually either Nick or AJ, since Justin had been there since lunch, and Sam or Deanīs shifts ended at eleven thirty.

**********

Like any other day, Nick and AJ had picked Brian up from work, and they had headed over to the bar to get some lunch. Chris had had their sandwiches ready when they arrived, and Howie had surprised them by dropping but for a quick bite to eat as well, before he had to head back to the office.

Brian had only been fifteen minutes late back from lunch, which had surprised his manager, but still stayed almost an hour longer than his shift lasted, trying to organize their new shipment in the too-small storeroom in the back. Heading back home he stopped by the grocery store to get some essentials, flirting with Hannah the forty-something divorcee at the register and Jake the bag-boy who insisted on packing everything neatly even though Brian always said he didnīt need to. Once back home he took a quick shower, put on some jeans and a nice pink shirt (a present from his mom) and some worn down sneakers he kept hiding whenever Kevin or his mother were around in fear they would toss them out due to the fact they were currently held together by super glue.

Checking himself in the mirror on the way out he fixed the few strands of hair that never cooperated, and slammed the door shut behind him, running to the nearest subway stop to catch the line going to the bar so he didnīt have to walk, again.

The subway was packed with people going somewhere, and he decided against trying to find a place to sit, and was instead content on finding a place to stand where everyone wasnīt bumping into him all the time. He had his iPod on, and was listening to the album Kevin had given him, trying to give it a proper listen-through before he deleted it. His eyes was half closed, his mind trying to escape the horrors that was track number four, when the train stopped, the doors opened, and someone bumped into him, tripping a little and grabbing his arm to catch themselves before they fell. A shiver ran down his spine as the person stepped off the subway, imaged flashed before his eyes as the doors closed, and in his head he could hear a sharp noise, clear as day, as the subway moved towards the next stop.

īBANG!ī