DMYC Chapter 14
by Geli Cake“Haa… haa…”
The chief clutched his chest and took deep breaths. Nothing in this world was free. If you want something, you have to pay a price. And right now, Grayson Miller was the price they had to pay.
I just have to endure it for a year.
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He repeated this mantra to himself. A year would pass quickly. If he just held on, Grayson Miller would be gone. The problem was, this nightmare was only just beginning.
The chief trudged toward his office, his steps heavy with the weight of the bleak future. And so, amidst this ominous atmosphere, the sun set, and the welcome party the chief had painstakingly prepared finally began.
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* * *
They gathered at the bar, a place they frequented whenever there was something to celebrate at the fire station, relatively early. By the time the chief’s announced time arrived, there were already a few of them who were slightly drunk. Shouts and laughter from drunken men echoed throughout the bar.
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“Chief, you’re here.”
“You made it! We’ve already started.”
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As the chief appeared at the entrance, the men who had arrived earlier greeted him one by one. The chief nodded, briefly returned their greetings, and discreetly assessed the number of people present.
“Where’s Miller? Is he still not here?”
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As he searched for the protagonist of the day, a man leaning against the bar, drinking beer, replied,
“No, not yet. I hope he doesn’t show up at all.”
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“Puhahaha!”
One of the men burst out laughing at the indifferent remark. The chief wanted to ask what was so funny, but there was no point in arguing with someone who was already drunk. He silently took a seat at the bar and ordered a beer. Alcohol had a way of improving the atmosphere between people. He hoped they would all forget about the events of the afternoon and get along well.
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But even so, once they sober up, everything will go back to the way it was.
Haa…
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He sighed deeply, once again anticipating the bleak future, when…
“He’s here.”
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He heard someone say, and the atmosphere in the bar suddenly changed. The men, who had been laughing and chatting, gradually fell silent, and a chilling tension filled the air. The only sound was the loud music playing from the bar’s speakers. The cause, as expected, was Grayson Miller’s entrance into the bar.
He was dressed casually in a shirt and jacket. Of course, compared to the other men gathered here, all in worn-out t-shirts and old jeans, he was incredibly well-dressed. He looked quite relaxed in a cream-colored jacket and cotton pants, his shirt unbuttoned down to the third button. His steps, neither slow nor hurried, resembled that of a large feline. He walked toward the bar, seemingly unaffected by the hostile and uncomfortable stares directed at him.
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Where does that shamelessness come from?
The people at the bar stared at him in disbelief. Most people wouldn’t be able to withstand this atmosphere and would have run away. Grayson Miller was the opposite. He probably thought, “What can you even do to me?” Which was actually true, but it still made their stomachs churn.
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Grayson Miller approached the center of the bar counter at a steady pace. Everyone in the bar blatantly turned their heads, following his movements with glaring eyes.
Get out! Get out of here!
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The thick hostility that filled the quiet bar was impossible to mistake. However, Grayson didn’t even flinch, as if he was used to it. Both goodwill and hostility were things he had encountered in excess throughout his life.
“Hello, Chief. Good evening.”
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Grayson greeted the chief first with a broad smile. It was a bright, genuine smile, but the chief felt a shiver down his spine. Suppressing his discomfort so it wouldn’t show, the chief forced himself to nod as if nothing was wrong.
“Welcome. Everyone’s been waiting for you.”
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As he returned a bland greeting, Grayson moved to stand beside him and said,
“Thank you for throwing this party for me. I’m very touched.”
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He placed a hand on his chest and put on a truly “touched” expression as everyone stared at him with strange looks. Despite being the center of attention, his focus seemed to be elsewhere.
The chief, feeling an indescribable unease, broke out in a cold sweat.
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“Well, you know… if you do well in the future…”
“Is everyone here now?”
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Without even letting the chief finish his sentence, Grayson cut him off and glanced around. Once again, everyone’s expressions twisted in irritation.
What the hell is wrong with this guy?
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Similar feelings and thoughts were exchanged, and the chief, also taken aback, looked at Grayson.
“Uh… probably? I didn’t do a headcount…”
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“So there might be more people coming. I understand.”
Grayson cut him off again and scanned the room. More precisely, he scrutinized the faces of the people at the bar one by one. Those who had been glaring at him flinched when their eyes met, quickly looking away or, refusing to be intimidated, glaring back. In their eyes, it seemed like a provocation, daring them to do something, but Grayson’s purpose was actually different.
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The chief blinked, dumbfounded by his actions, then, coming to his senses, spoke to the bartender,
“Here, give Miller a beer too. What are you all doing? Let’s all have a toast. Welcome, Miller.”
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“Thank you. I’m so glad to be welcomed like this.”
As the chief raised his glass, everyone reluctantly followed suit. Grayson, with a touched expression like an Oscar-winning actor, turned around and toasted the air.
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“Alright, everyone, drink up. You there, go back to your pool game. Yes.”
The chief gestured to the staff, trying to defuse the awkward atmosphere. The men, who had been frowning at Grayson, reluctantly tore their gazes away and returned to what they were doing. Once some of the attention had shifted, the chief sighed and emptied his glass. The awkward atmosphere persisted. Because of Grayson, right beside him. He tried to ignore it, but he eventually couldn’t hold back any longer and spoke,
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“It’s admirable that you decided to become a firefighter. What made you come to that decision?”
He’d thought it was an ordinary question, but Grayson’s eyes suddenly lit up once he heard those words. The chief flinched involuntarily and shrugged as Grayson’s voice became brighter.
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“There’s someone I’m looking for.”
“Looking for someone? Among our team members?”
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The chief couldn’t help but ask, though he wasn’t happy about the unexpected answer. Grayson replied with a simple, “Yes,” and continued,
“I’m looking for someone who saved me before. I want to thank them.”
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“Well, you could have just asked… You didn’t have to go as far as to get a job…”
The chief trailed off, suppressing his true feelings; “…just to disrupt our team like this?” He seethed inwardly as he looked at Grayson’s flawless face, now attentively listening with a smile, unlike his previous habit of abruptly interrupting his words. The chief gulped down his beer instead of letting out a sigh and spoke again,
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“Alright, what exactly happened? Tell me, and I’ll find out who it was for you.”
The fire chief figured it was better to get this annoying business over with quickly and waved his hand impatiently, urging Grayson to speak.
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Grayson, still smiling, replied,
“Thank you. There were firefighters who responded to the fire at Mendez’s party a few days ago.”
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“Mendez? …Ah, that pheromone party?”
“Yes.”
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That day was truly a chaotic mess. Of course, all fires were tragic and disastrous for those involved, but the sight of the victims running out stark naked, crying and covered in soot, drunk and disoriented from the smoke, was something they didn’t see every day. Furthermore, although it was being hushed up, there was also the matter of those twins who had apparently acted like madmen…
Seeing the fire chief lost in thought, Grayson added,
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“I’m not talking about everyone. There was a firefighter who came all the way to where I was and rescued me. I want to find that person.”
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