Looking ahead, Caitlyn spotted a bar with a flickering sign that read "The Last Drop."
"You said it's safe, right?" she asked Jonathan.
He nodded as they approached.
"It's the safest place in the Undercity," Crane replied—then added under his breath, "That's what I heard."
Caitlyn slowed down. "That makes me feel be—wait. You heard? So you've never actually been there?"
"Nope," Crane said casually. "But I'm going to trust the word of other Undercity folk… even though they're notoriously untrustworthy."
They stopped in front of the door.
Caitlyn turned to him, arms crossed. "You know what? I'm suddenly not thirsty anymore."
Crane reached for the handle, then glanced back at her.
"It's actually safe," he said, hand resting on the door. "I swear on Fiddlesticks."
Caitlyn raised a brow. "Who's Fiddlesticks?"
"I don't know. Just the first thing that came to mind," he muttered, then pushed the door open.
The inside was dimly lit but lively—people crowded around tables drinking, making deals, and laughing over cards or secrets. The air smelled like smoke, sweat, and something sweetly fermented.
Crane walked in first. Caitlyn hesitated, then followed.
A few patrons paused to stare as the pair entered—especially at Caitlyn's hood and Crane's red skin.
Crane raised his voice. "Keep drinking. I'm not that interesting to look at."
The eyes turned away, some chuckling, others grumbling.
Crane strode up to the bar counter.
"Aren't you both a little young to be in a bar?" the man behind the counter said, eyeing them. "And I don't do no charity."
Caitlyn immediately spoke up. "Yeah, you're right—we should get going."
"We'll each have a drink," Crane cut in.
"I don't serve beer to kids, but I could—"
"Juice it is," Crane interrupted, placing a few silver coins on the counter.
The man gave him a long look, then grabbed two cups and filled them with orange juice. He set them down in front of the pair without another word.
They both sat on the stools at the bar.
"See? Told you they have juice," Crane said, nudging Caitlyn slightly.
Caitlyn stared at her drink for a second, then took a cautious sip. Her eyes widened.
"This is actually really good," she said, glancing at him. "I think it's the best thing I've had down here."
Crane took a drink of his own, nodding in agreement—just before the bartender spoke up again.
"So, you're Jonathan."
Crane coughed mid-sip, juice splashing back into his cup.
"Yeah, I'm Jonathan," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "But how do you know that?"
He already had a guess—Vi or one of the kids must've talked.
The bartender shrugged. "People talk about you."
"Is 'people' just Vi? Because I don't think anyone else would bother."
"Not just Vi. Mylo does too. So does everyone else."
Crane sighed. "Great. Well, I'd rather not have my introduction come from other people."
He extended a hand. "I'm Jonathan."
The bartender took it, giving a firm shake. "Vander."
Vander's eyes shifted to Caitlyn, who was still sipping her drink. She quickly set the cup down and raised her hand awkwardly.
"I'm, uh… Cait. Yeah, I'm Cait," she said, clearly avoiding her full name.
"You don't sound too sure about that," Vander replied, raising a brow.
Crane spoke for her without missing a beat. "She's unsure about a lot of things."
Caitlyn narrowed her eyes at him, but then looked back at Vander and gave a short nod.
"So," Crane said, turning back to Vander, "what exactly have you heard about me? Anything I should be worried about?"
"I heard you've got red skin and a tail," Vander replied with a shrug. "But you probably don't want to hear about that, do you?"
Crane sighed. "I'll ask a question, and you answer. That sounds like the only way I'll get anything useful."
Vander nodded. "If you pay for each question."
Crane pulled out seven silver coins and placed them on the counter. "You're just like Benzo."
Vander raised an eyebrow. "You know Benzo?"
"Yeah. Made me pay to ask him questions too."
Vander chuckled. "That sounds like him."
He scooped up the coins. "Alright. Ask anything."
Crane leaned forward on the counter. "What's going on with all the enforcers—and how long until the Under-city snaps?"
Caitlyn looked over, suddenly paying closer attention.
Vander blinked, surprised by the question. "I thought you were gonna ask something about yourself. And I don't know what the enforcers are planning."
Crane frowned. "Give me back my money if you're gonna lie. You're the Hound of the Underground. You have to know something."
Vander stared at him for a moment, then pushed the coins back across the counter. He met Crane's gaze evenly.
"You're a smart kid," he said quietly. "You remind me of someone I used to know. But you're too young to be asking questions like that."
He gave a small shake of his head. "Leave that to the adults."
Crane pushed the coins back across the counter.
"Just one question, then. Do they think I'm weird?"
Vander took the coins with a grunt. "Everyone says you're fun to be around. Vi just says you're confusing."
Crane smiled. "That's good."
He glanced at Caitlyn, who had just finished her juice.
He stood up. "Bye, Vander. Nice chat."
Vander gave him a look. "You're confusing."
Crane smirked. "Like father, like daughter."
Caitlyn slipped off her stool and adjusted her coat. "Let's head back. It's getting late."
Crane nodded, and they walked through The Last Drop toward the door.
Just as he reached for the handle, it opened from the other side.
Vi, Powder, Mylo, and Claggor stood there, frozen in place as they spotted Crane and Caitlyn.
For a second, no one spoke.
Then Powder broke the silence. "I like your blue hair," she said, looking up at Caitlyn.
"Oh—you saw that?" Caitlyn chuckled nervously, brushing her hood back a bit. "I like your blue hair too."
Crane raised a brow, then decided to chime in. "I should join in—hey Vi, I like your red hair."
Vi gave him a deadpan look. "It's actually pink."
"Well then—I like your pink hair."
Vi let out a sigh, covering Powder's ears. "I fucked up. It's red."
.
.
.
Crane just sighed in return.
Without another word, he took Caitlyn's hand and walked past them.
"Me and Vander talked about you, Vi. I was going to tell you, but… not anymore," he said casually, just to get under her skin.
Vi quickly uncovered Powder's ears, frowning. "What did you guys talk about?" she asked, a little too quickly—dreading the possibility he mentioned the kiss.
Crane didn't answer. He just kept walking, glancing back over his shoulder.
"I'll see you the day before today but after tomorrow!" he shouted.
"I don't get it!" Vi shouted back.
"Makes perfectsense to me!" Crane called.
"I like your hair, Powder!" Caitlyn added, turning with a grin.
Then they vanished around the corner, out of sight.
Powder turned to Vi with a dreamy little smile. "She's pretty."
Vi looked at her. "So am I."
Powder shrugged. "Sure."
———————————-
Crane and Caitlyn walked side by side through the dim corridors of the Undercity.
"It's time to head back to topside," Crane said, glancing at the flickering lights above them.
Caitlyn nodded, but then frowned. "Wait—you never took me to your home like you said you would."
"My home is the Under-city," Crane replied simply.
"That's purposefully vague, and you know it," Caitlyn shot back, giving him a look.
Crane gave a small, amused shrug. "It's not a nice place."
Caitlyn looked down at her shoes as they walked. Her silence made him glance sideways at her.
"Whatever you're imagining, it's probably worse," he said. "But I'm not homeless, so… there's that."
She smiled softly. "As long as you're safe."
They reached the elevator, its old metal frame groaning slightly as they stepped in.
"This isn't going to be a daily thing," Crane said, pressing the button. "It's too dangerous for someone like you."
"I know," Caitlyn agreed. "I just… wanted to see for myself. To know if it's really as bad as they say."
The elevator jerked, then slowly began its climb upward.
"So," Crane asked, hands in his pockets, "is it?"
Caitlyn was quiet for a moment, watching the walls pass as they rose.
"It's unusual," Caitlyn said honestly. "But also… not as bad as they say."
Crane gave a slow nod. "Yeah. That sounds about right."
He leaned against the back wall of the elevator, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
If I want them to fall for me, he thought, thinking of both Vi and Caitlyn, I should try to feel the same.
How can I make someone love me if I don't understand love myself?
For a moment, his gaze lingered on Caitlyn.
His mind churned, scheming as always, until a curious thought struck him.
I've manipulated others with this power—maybe I can manipulate myself too.
He stared at her a little longer, then quietly shifted something inside himself.
Usually, he kept his own pheromones at bay—walled off, controlled.
But now, he let that control slip, allowing the chemical warmth to course through his bloodstream.
Love—or was it lust? He couldn't tell. All he knew was that it felt strange.
His hearts beat faster.
His cheeks warmed—not that it showed much on his already red skin—and a strange tightness bloomed in his chest. Unfamiliar. Unsettling.
Then, embarrassingly, a thin string of drool escaped the corner of his mouth.
He blinked and wiped it away, irritated.
But the irritation passed quickly, replaced by something quieter. Curiosity. Fascination.
He felt warm. Off-balance. Human.
"Okay," he murmured, watching her from the corner of his eye. "Let's see where this goes."
—————————-
I was at the DMV yesterday and the DMV makes me tired.
It makes anyone tired.