Chapter Text
Some days, Dennis could feel every air molecule beating against his face. Every stitch in his button-down shirt, every drop of moisture in the air a constant barrage of sensation that made it impossible to think. He could feel everything around him like he had feelers extending from every pore. Like everything was closer than it should be, and closing in. Like soon he wouldn’t have room to breathe. It was exhausting, it was unpleasant, and more importantly, it was worse when Charlie and Dee wouldn’t stop having their stupid goddamn arguments.
Waking up this morning had meant going from a restless sleep to a searing migraine, and the flask Dennis kept under his pillow only managed to chip away at the edges. It was here to stay, and sitting in the dull yellow light of the bar, it seemed like this was his life now. Something started to buzz underneath his skin and threatened to burst out. A scream rose in his throat, but he swallowed it, its edges scratching on the way down. The pulsing in Dennis’s temples lined up with his heartbeat. His whole body reverberated with every thud, a deafening drum beat. He slammed his spoon on the bar.
“That’s ludicrous!” He flexed his fingers against the scratched wood. How long had he been clenching them into a fist? Each tendon felt like a rubber band about to snap. “A gremlin in your apartment? Is this what we’ve come to?”
“Dude, just think about it. What’s small enough to crawl through that hole in the wall, and smart enough to not go in the traps? That design is fool-proof. Thousands of rats have died in that kind of trap. What else could it be?” Charlie held his hands out, eyebrows raised.
“Maybe one of the thousands of feral cats outside your building?” Dennis pushed his bowl aside. He had no appetite anymore. It had gotten soggy, anyway.
“I don’t know, Dennis.” Dee leaned forward, resting her hands on the bar. “I went over the other day, and I don’t think a cat would be capable of all that. They don’t have the dexterity. I hate to admit it, but maybe we should be considering other options.”
“He probably got high and blacked out and— And whatever else you do in that shithole, and don’t remember doing it yourself! Maybe you ate the raw eggs! It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we are three adults— in our forties— arguing about gremlins!”
Charlie huffed a laugh. “Well, that’s your opinion.”
The door of the bar slammed open, white sunlight streaming in around… Oh, fuck.
“I have great news! Dennis, you are gonna love this.” Mac strode over and slapped a paper down on the bar. Each vertebra in Dennis’s neck rubbed together as he turned his head to look at Mac. The muscles were rock solid on either side of his spine, and he held back a wince. A smile stretched across Mac’s face as he rubbed his hands together. Entirely too pleased with himself. It wasn’t a good look.
Dennis sighed, gesturing to the paper, then Mac. “What’s this? What’s this whole thing?”
“What do you mean?” Even with furrowed brows and forced confusion, Mac’s smile cut through. His eyes were too bright. Playing coy. Something was definitely up.
“Yeah, something’s up,” Dee said. “You look like the cat that ate the canary. What’dya got there?”
Mac looked up at Dee, head cocked to the side as his shifted his gaze to Charlie. “This is a private conversation between me and Dennis, so…” He waved them away. “Clear out, thank you.”
“Okay.” Dee grabbed her keys and started to head out. “Later, boners.”
“Huh. I didn’t think that would work,” Mac said, eyebrow raising.
“It hasn’t hit you yet. It’ll get you soon.” Charlie smiled, standing from the bar and wobbling just a little.
“What’ll hit me?” Mac’s face contorted, and he brought a hand up to cover his nose. “What the hell is that smell?”
“Something must have died in the vents or the ceiling.” Charlie picked up his beer and held it under his nose, giving a good sniff. “You get used to the smell, though. You get used to it.”
“I don’t want to get used to it!” Mac turned to Dennis, fingers pinching his nose shut. “Can we go in the office or something, dude?”
Charlie sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Actually, pretty sure the smell’s coming from inside the office. It’s like, eye-watering back there. I was back there by the door and I could only stand it for thirty seconds. I almost puked. It’s bad.”
“Uh, he did puke. You gotta clean that up,” Dee called over from the door. “It’s disgusting.”
“I did, yeah.”
“No one’s gonna come in until Charlie does his job, so we might as well just close.” Dee disappeared behind the closing door of the bar.
“That’s the worst smell I’ve ever smelled, Dennis. How are you still in here?”
“Uh, I guess I got used to it.” Dennis shook his head. The smell wasn’t even registering to him anymore. “I have no idea. We’ll get Charlie to clean it up today. Spit it out, Mac.”
Mac just stood there, clutching the paper in his hand like a schoolboy with a good report card in front of his parents. It was a pathetic sight. Mac was so desperate for his approval. And Dennis was sure he could dangle it just out of reach this time as punishment for inconveniencing him like this. The thought warmed his blood.
“So, you know how we’re not gonna make rent?” He sat on the stool next to Dennis, knee bouncing.
“Yeah, I know, Mac. I’m the one that takes care of our finances.”
“I found something. It’s gonna solve it.” He held the paper out to Dennis, who took it roughly. The edge of the page crumpled under the force of his fingers as he scanned the words.
University of Pennsylvania department of psychology, paid research opportunity… $500 per… Couple. Online surveys and interviews, must live within the greater Philadelphia area… Couples in a romantic relationship for more than six months, living together—
“Five hundred bucks, dude!” Mac laughed, waiting for Dennis to say something.
Dennis rubbed at his temples. Here we go again. “Mac, for the— We are not— You know we’re not dating. We have never been dating. You know that, right? You understand that? Because it seems like you’re just not getting that, and this—”
“What? No, dude, that’s not what I mean. It’s a scheme! We pretend to be a couple, dupe these science assholes into believing it, and bam! Cold, hard cash.” Mac laughed, that dopey grin still plastered across his face.
Dennis stared into nothing, clasped his hands, and shook his head. He heard Mac’s words, but his eyes were still too bright. He leaned in just a little too close.
“I… Don’t want to do this. I’ll talk to the landlord.” He exhaled, rubbed at the back of his head. “I’m sure he’ll see that I’m a man of honor, and he’ll agree to accept the rent late.”
“Last time you tried that, he changed the locks.”
“He changed the locks, yeah.” Dennis saw the destination creeping towards him, an inevitable crash, but he was going to fight it as long as he could. “There’s no other way we could get the money.”
“We could try to ask Frank,” Mac suggested. “I… I actually haven’t seen him in a couple days, though.”
“Hmm, I actually assumed he was the smell, you know?”
“Oh, like he… Died…”
“Yeah, that he died in the back office, and the smell is his, you know, putrefying body.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty dark.” Mac clicked his tongue. “Probably can’t get any money from him, then.”
“Yeah, not ‘til the will gets… Processed, and all that.”
“Oh! You could go back to whoring.”
“Okay, so this—” Dennis held up the paper— “Seems like our only option. Fine.”
“Great!” Mac clasped his hands together, standing from the bar stool “I was thinking we grab some lunch at the bistro, head back to the apartment, come up with our plan of attack? We haven’t been there in so long and I miss it, you know? And we definitely can’t stay here, so—”
“Let me just,” Dennis said as he stood. “Stop you right there, Mac, because I’m not gonna say this again. We are not actually dating.” He started walking to the door.
“Yeah, I know.” Mac cocked his head to the side. “Why do you keep saying that?”
“So you’re not gonna try to kiss me or anything?”
“You covered that pretty well last year, dude. I got it.”
“Okay,” Dennis said, hesitant. He eyed Mac up and down. He didn’t seem like he was lying, but that didn’t mean anything. He might’ve just gotten better at it. Of course this was a bad idea, he thought as Mac held the door to the bar open for him. It was a terrible idea. He shouldn’t enable Mac’s obvious attraction for him like this. It could only lead to bad things. But they really did need the money, and it wouldn’t be the first time Dennis had taken advantage of it. He didn’t like doing it, not really; it was just so easy.
The air out on the street wasn’t crystal clean or anything, but Dennis inhaled deeply, relishing in the oxygen like he’d just come to the surface. He squinted at the rays of mid-morning sun peeking out from behind the mis-matched facades of the surrounding buildings. Dee and Charlie’s voices were coming from around the corner, still arguing.
“No, it’s the cat that ate the canary. It ate the bird, so it’s pleased with itself. How do you not get this?”
“I get it, it’s just— It’s so much more impressive! Think about it, how long did that little bird have to chip away at the coal mine to get all of it? That’s way more to be proud of than just a cat eating a bird. That’s nothing.”
“But that’s the saying.”
Charlie thought about it for a moment. “Where does the coal mine come in?”
“That’s a totally separate thing.”
“How did the cat get in there?”
“Dennis, tell Charlie I’m right,” Dee called over as he rounded the corner with Mac.
“No,” Dennis laughed, shaking his head. Fucking idiots, he thought. Both of them.
“I’m gonna go pick us up some lunch, meet you back at the apartment?” Mac brushed against Dennis’s shoulder as he asked.
“Yeah, sure, dude.”
“What was that about?” Dee asked.
“Nothing,” Dennis said, too quickly. “A… Side gig. To make some more money.”
“Dick towel money finally dried up, huh?”
Dennis waved a hand at her, dismissing the idea. She was right, but he wouldn’t admit it. They milked that cash cow as long as they could, but all good ideas eventually lose public favor. Because people are idiots.
“Shut up, bird.”
“Oh, real original, Dennis. Just as funny as the first time,” Dee said, rolling her eyes. “What’s this side gig? I could just a couple extra bucks.”
“No, no, don’t nose in,” Dennis said. “You’d just fuck everything up like you always do.”
“What? That’s not true!” Dee’s voice was full of indignant fry.
“You do. She does,” Charlie added.
“Fine. I’ll do my own thing. I don’t need you guys. This bird’s gonna go get herself a canary, and then you’ll be the one who’s…” She trailed off, turning down the sidewalk and walking away, a curse stuck right behind her lips.
“So the canary is in the coal mine, it eats the bird, and then it dies?”
“I’ll explain it to you later, buddy. Why don’t you get back in there, clean up whoever— whatever’s in there, then close up shop?” Dennis clapped Charlie on the back, laughing at nothing.
“I don’t have the keys.”
“That’s great, man,” Dennis said, already making his way down the sidewalk with the residue of a grin sliding off his face. He took another deep breath and exhaled slowly, looking around. His footsteps slowed as his mind caught up to him, shoulder-checking him like a careless runner. They needed to pay the rent. They were short— losing the rent control on the apartment had been a killer. There was nowhere to dredge up a few hundred. And $500… Dennis shut his eyes, another breath. The sun shone through his eyelids. Everything red.