The Bartender skillfully wrapped the food for a new order in a convenient to-go package. This was his second try for this particular order, and he couldn’t help but feel proud of his progress since the first attempt.

The first order that he had to prep for a to-go, not in the sense that someone hadn’t finished their meal and required a container to take the leftovers, no—instead, this was a to-go in the sense that they had just begun offering delivery and were experimenting with ways of preparing the meals for the best service. 

The Bartender wanted sustainable ways to carry the meal. At the same time, the owner preferred that their taste and warmth be preserved as much as possible. An agreement was reached when they decided on a specific set of items curated for this purpose. Ultimately, it worked out perfectly for the food; the only issue was that the packaging and wrapping for said deliveries were still in the experimental phase. Whether the packaging should have personal branding for marketing purposes was up for debate. Still, the main concern was how it would be delivered.

The solution for the latter was more accessible to tackle, as there was one slacker who, to some degree, forgot he even worked at the establishment, even if it was part-time.

“Hey! We have an order.”

“And?” Elias questioned.

“So, go drop it off.”

“Why do I have to?”

“Because…” The Bartender glanced around, confused by his question. “I can’t very well do it myself. Someone has to stay around here.”

“I can do that,” Elias assured

“Yeah, right. I trust you will stay in one spot by yourself? You still owe some money to me and Connie. You may have fumbled one job, but you ain’t fumbling this one!”

Elias clicked his tongue. He’s already gotten an earful from the Bartender and the owner about the dividends he still owes. Connie wasn’t so bad to press him every hour of every day, but the Bartender wanted what he was due with interest.

“When did we even start offering delivery?”

It was a very recent innovation, one concocted by the owner in the past few days—very experimental.

“Th-that’s irrelevant. The boss wants to reach new customers. We can’t keep betting on our returning clientele. It’s a good idea. Offering delivery as it reaches more eyes. Check it out; we are on Zebber!”

“Oh really, let me see,” Elias said, grabbing the phone and sliding it down the bar out of view. “I don’t care. Get someone else to do it.”

The Bartender glanced around befuddled. He had to know if the young man’s vision was going. 

“You can’t be serious. Do the damn job. Your JOB for once! Work off some of the debt you still owe. Connie insists.”

Elias glared at him only to see the Bartender raise the bag in retaliation. 

***

Apps were remarkable as they offered convenient solutions to many modern-day problems. For example, providing the convenience of ordering food at one’s fingertips. As the deliverer, all Elias had to do was follow the pin to its current destination.

He arrived at a tiny shop that sold wine and offered multiple services in tasting parties for people to enjoy. There were a few chairs and tables outside for those who opted for a view of the sun. Currently, only one table is occupied. 

In the chair sat an individual reading a newspaper. She wore a violet plum blazer, her wavy hair bobbing to the breeze.

Elias took a moment to glance at his phone before turning his attention back towards the familiar face.

“You’re late,” she said with a calm tone. Not at all of one who would be peeved for a delayed delivery.

“What do you want?” Elias Questioned.

“I wanted to try one of the baguette sandwiches that Connie’s now offers. I heard they are quite delicious.”

“Peskott, right?”

She turned to see him swiping along his phone. He wasn’t asking her for her name per se; it was more like confirming whose name the order was under.

“It’s cold.”

“I walked.”

“I can see that.”

Now that he had completed the order, he planned to spend time with himself.

“You don’t expect me to pay for this?” Peskott asked dubiously.

Elias turned back around, half bewildered.

“It’s cold, and you’re late. Surely, you could have made it here sooner.”

“I walked. I wasn’t even supposed to be doing this in the first place.” Elias shot. “Want to complain? Leave a review like everyone else.”

“Is that so…?”

At that moment, a man emerged from the shop with a bottle of wine. He opened it, poured her a glass, and placed the bottle on the table before returning inside.

“Do you care to join me at least before leaving?” Peskott asked.

“Not really, I don’t drink.”

“I don’t either. It’s for someone I endear greatly.” Upon her words, she brought the glass close to her nose to capture the scent of the silky red liquid. “Are you avoiding me?”

Her question left Elias hesitant for a moment. The fact that she had been calling him on his personal device without ever asking for his contact information left him perplexed. Of course, he was wary of her. Her skills, combined with his wariness, left him feeling uneasy. He was unsure whether he should tell her the truth. More accurately, he was worried that he might lie and she would see through him like a pane of glass.

“I might be,” Elias finally confessed.

“Is that so... Why?” 

“You killed two people in my flat without an ounce of hesitation. Then you admit that I am not the guy, at least not the one with the skills to be dallying in this sort of business, yet you want me to play the part for your employer because I can’t simply walk away from this. I thought about what that means for some time, so I figure you can make me disappear without a trace, and I believe you on that.”

“...technically, I killed one; the other bled out.”

“...”

“Mhmmm...”

Several moments of silence passed before the gentleman from inside returned to ask the young lady how her drink was. She told him that it was perfect and thanked him in Latian.

Embarrassed, he simply thanked her for her continuous patronage before leaving to fetch a new bottle of the same kind to wrap in a special wooden box with a signature bow. He was used to this process as it was her routine during the last week of every month.

As he wrapped her parting gift for her to leave, Peskott glanced over to Elias.

“Games, you like them?”

Elias admits he did. 

“Care to play one with me?” 

“...” Elias stared at her for a moment. While he was intrigued by this suddenness to ask to play a game, he couldn’t help but share his skepticism of what she was trying to get out of it from playing a game.

“If I win, you humor me. As I said, they won’t let you walk away. Thus, when you have a problem, it is better to tackle it at its root.”

Elias had many questions when she mentioned “they.” It was too vague. She wouldn’t have said so much if she had been referring to her employer, but leaving it to such a term for him to interpret was now concerning.

“So if you win, I humor you, but what happens if I win?” Elias spoke with suspicion in his tone.

“What do you want? I can do anything that is within my power, of course.”

What is within her power, Elias pondered curiously. He started to think long and hard. His fingers scratched on the make-believe hairs that occupied his chin. Money, that would be great. Mhmmm, maybe just leaving it vague for now is preferable. That could work. Wait, she said anything within her power, could I ask for—

Cutting his train of thought short, Peskott announced the game. “Rock paper scissors.”

“Huh? That’s it?!” Elias squawked. He had expected something more in line with skill, tactical effort, critical thinking, or at least something more suitable for someone in her work. Something tricky or requiring physical prowess. But a game based on luck?

“Did you expect something else?”

“No, no. I thought it was going to be—this is fine.”

Elias has always won this game every time he has played it. It’s all about intuition. There’s usually a tell when you look into someone’s eyes or even how they throw their hands. This is an easy open-and-shut case for him, as he couldn’t lose.

“Best out of 3?” Peskott asked.

“Sure, whatever floats your boat,” Elias responded cockily.

The two prepared themselves.

Rock. Paper. Scissors.