As the car pulls up to the bar in the late morning light, the streets are still barely trafficked. Midas parks willingly with not much precision, yet she thinks the car fits too well in the drawn lines and decides to steer it some more.

She turns on her phone, it's 11:35 AM.

"Didn't they tell us to come when the clock hit 11:00 AM?" They observe.

"Are you joking? I give myself at least half an hour for comfort, can't risk to be the first one to arrive".

***

Dubhra looks lost and confused walking into the bar, as they can only imagine this would be some kind of tavern.

Midas pays it no mind, she weaves through the tables. Her eyes scan over her friends, who are staring holes at her with a mix of impatience and annoyance. She raises a hand, with a practiced smile on her face. "Good morning guys, sorry I'm late."

She then moves to take the seat they reserved for her at the head of the table, the creature follows and grabs a chair to sit close to her.

"Oh, quit it! We know you're not sorry at all." Says a girl with blonde hair and a bright pink lipstick.

Midas gives her a quick half smile before calling the waiter to order a drink.

"You insisted to no end for me to bring them and now all you can do is scold me? Come on, start with the presentations," she continues. "This is Dubhra." Her tone is full with weight that demands acceptance. And that insincere smile.

"So you're the one Midas has been hiding away, huh?" The girl with the bright lipstick says. “Nice to meet you, I’m Laura.”

Dubhra's prosthetic hands are still twitching and fidgeting on the table, Midas knows they can feel the staring, even if their arms are carefully covered with a long sleeved white shirt full of laces. They are looking at the tattoos, their piercings and their impossibly long tentacles-like hair that now rests on the shoulders and falls on their back.

She can’t look away either.

The creature says nothing, they just give a wide smile with those thin lips of theirs, without opening their mouth to speak.

Midas has to intervene, if anything to save her face. "What's wrong with you creeps? Stop staring like that!"

"Oh that's going to be difficult." This time it is a guy that speaks, he has dark short hair and pretty wide shoulders, accentuated by the tight shirt he's wearing. "Those prosthetic hands are terrific! Are they custom?"

Midas looks as surprised as Dubhra by that observation, they instinctively flex their fingers' sharp metal nails peeking. "Y—yes."

He continues, “And what kind of hairstyle is that?”

Dubhra doesn’t seem too concerned about the question. “They’re braids?”

Another girl, this time with a brown bob, rests her chin in her hand. She is sitting on Dubhra's left, studying them. "That's a pretty big piece," she says, nodding towards their arm. The creature tenses before realizing the shirt's fabric is so light that their ink patterns are peeking through. "Who did it?"

They hesitate, glancing at Midas, but she doesn't intervene this time. Then swallow hard. "I did."

Laura’s eyebrows raise. "You did that yourself? I can't believe it!"

They give a small nod.

"Damn," the guy in the dark shirt says. "That's hardcore!"

Dubhra clearly doesn't know what to say, they surely never thought to look hardcore or terrific, yet their shoulders seem to relax slightly at the thought that those people don’t seem to be judging them.

He continues. "Are you some kind of street fighter or what?"

They look at Midas, she shakes her head.

"Don't lie, it's clear you've been through some shit.” Laura fixes her gaze on them, like she's trying to pull the answer out of their mouth.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't," Dubhra finally answers. "I think I would have remembered."

By their slightly disgusted face, Midas knows that they understood the phrase literally and are on a whole different conversation. Her friends seem to take it as a joke though and judging by how much they're laughing, even a good one. She lets out a fake little laugh too.

"Are you sure you didn't fight a bear or something?"

This time Dubhra laughs genuinely. "Never fought a bear, that’s ridiculous!"

"I was sure you were into some kind of fighting, I mean, look at those!" Laura points to the claws at the end of their hand prosthetics.

"You say that as if I lost something I should care about, but if you think I'm in a bad state, you should have seen the others," Dubhra says, in an awkward attempt to tell the truth through a bad joke. Still those people look at each other, a moment of silence.

"Oh, okay, more than one at once?” The guy with wide shoulders remarks. “I like you!"

Suddenly the weight of those attentions crashes onto them, it’s overwhelming, their shoulders tense up again. "Can we please not talk about how I lost my arms? How do you know it didn’t happen while I was fighting a goose?"

They laugh, yet again.

Midas gives them a warm smile, this time more sincere. "Dubhra is a person full of surprises."

That inside joke that only her and the creature could understand, helps them relax once again, shaking off the uneasiness.

"Okay, got it," the girl with the bob says. "You're a secret agent."

Everyone is laughing, Dubhra seems like they're quite getting the hang of it, so much as to give a little more of that awkward smile they had just a couple minutes earlier.

Everyone's laughing but one.

It's a guy Midas didn't bother asking about, he was not in the group chat but asking would have possibly driven the attention somewhere else, so she simply chooses to ignore him.

Yet he apparently has something to say, after being silent the whole time. "Yes, it would be pretty difficult to ignore them." The look he has in his eyes isn't one like the others. "You look like a ghost bride."

A few of the others chuckle. Dubhra feels the guy's eyes lingering, stripping them down.

Midas doesn't flinch, she just clicks her tongue and the table goes quiet.

"Jesus, you can't just dress like a Victorian ghost and expect people not to say something," he insists.

Midas looks like she wants to dissect him, her eyes lingering. "Remind me who you should be?"

The guy with the tight shirt speaks lightly before him. "He is my boyfriend, Noah. I didn’t even introduce him in the chat, sorry hahaha."

Noah raises his voice. "So you should ask everyone if it's fine to bring me but she can bring this freak show?"

Before she can answer, a cold clawed finger lightly touches her arm, telling her not to proceed. "I go around dressed as I please, why should it be a problem?"

He laughs, baring his teeth. "Because you're simply terrible to look at."

Dubhra's gaze unfocuses, becoming something unreadable. "Terrible? Me?” They scoff, pointing at themselves. “I don't mean to be rude but, do you have mirrors in your house, or do you only see yourself reflected in ponds?"

Midas is looking at them, genuinely surprised. She has to say something, but she is too curious. Too willing to see how they intend to get out of this situation since they just look like it has given them the ability to speak again.

Noah gets up from his chair, his boyfriend tries to persuade him to sit again, but to no use.

"You're a bit of a freak, aren't you?" The words drip with amusement, yet they cut through the air like a knife. He’s now standing close to Dubhra's chair, looking at them from up to down with a smirk.

In their confusion, the creature moves the chair just so they have enough space to stand too. They look for Midas by their side, she is there staring at them, doesn't look bothered in the slightest.

Standing up, it's Dubhra that looks at the guy from up to down, they're significantly taller, yet they look so small with their shoulders hunched over and that lost expression on their face.

"What even are you supposed to be? Ghost bride, come here and show me how much of a hardcore guy you are!"

They instead take a step back. "I don't see how all of this concerns you," they say with a soft tone. Then they open their mouth to say something else, something on the line of we must stop this, but the words die in their throat.

It's like water fills their lungs, hands gripping their shoulders, pushing them down.

"Oh, what? Cat got your tongue? Is the tough guy scared of a little confrontation?" Noah stands on his tiptoes, to try and reach Dubhra’s eye level. "Do me a favor and go back where you came from!"

The water rises in their mind again, rage clouds their senses. Still they can't move, they feel the need to touch and caress their metallic wrists.

It feels like drowning.

They turn around a moment, to reach for Midas, to ask for help with the words they can't seem to find. The laughter around the table has faded into something quieter. An eerie stillness. The air carries a weight that hasn't been there up until then.

They barely have time to register the movement before the guy's fist collides with their face.

A sharp crack.

Pain explodes across their eyes and nose, sudden and hot, their vision blurs for a moment. Their head snaps back, breath catching in their throat. Warm, metallic blood trickles down their nose, on their lips, staining bluish red the white fabric of their sleeve as they instinctively cover their face.

The water pulls them under, swallowing them whole. The surface is slipping away, slipping—

Dubhra gasps, urged and ragged as the present crashes back onto them like a wave.

The bar, the scent of coffee, the golden candlelight.

The taste of blood.

They blink slowly, the eye that's not hurting, glancing through their prosthetic fingers, is wide, staring at the guy in front of them. "W—why did you hit me?!"

Before he could retort, another chair scrapes sharply across the floor, cutting through like a knife. Midas is already standing, her face a mask of ice cold fury, her eyes narrow into slits as she takes a step forward. "Call them a freak one more time!"

The creature doesn't flinch. Their gaze is still fixed on the blood on their hands, staining their sleeve. There's something inside that urges them to move, to react with violence. Still, a heaviness clings to them like a second skin.

Around them, muffled voices, screams, they feel the shift of air where people move, but all is a blur.

Until Midas' hand lands on their shoulder, firm and grounding, pulling them back to the moment. "Let me see, that bastard hit you right."

Dubhra only manages to recognize the guy's voice saying he would go wash his hands.

Finally they manage to speak, as she’s in front of them, grabbing their face and touching right where it hurts. "I— I didn't want to ruin it for you, I'm sorry."

"Shut up, I don't want to hear that," she says, disappointed. "He ruined it for everyone, if Thomas still wants to stay with him I'd have to tell—" she can't even finish her sentence before all her friends gather around them. They all seem pretty concerned, but Dubhra still has a buzzing in their ears that just won't go away.

"Wait, just a moment," they tell her, still in a daze, before heading to the men's bathroom.

***

The other guy is at the sink, the stains are a mixture of Dubhra's blood and his own. He gives a sharp look in their direction, clearly irritated.

"Hello," the creature says, slouching against the doorframe slightly off balance. Their voice barely audible, "I'm sorry for what I said, I made it embarrassing."

The guy turns slightly, one eyebrow raised. "Yeah?" His tone is skeptical, still a little on edge.

"I ruined it for everyone." Their eyes have a look in them, like they're not really there, like the mouth is talking while not being connected to the brain. "But if you're free tonight, maybe we could... meet up?" Their legs are restless, trembling. "I could try to apologize properly."

The guy shoots them a quick look, his jaw tightening. "And how exactly would you do that?"

Dubhra smiles in discomfort, showing their teeth, their white pupils getting smaller. "I'm sure I could make it up to you, but at least this time let's not involve any more punches."

He studies them for a moment, considering the offer. Then his pupils dilate and a shiver creeps up his neck. With a chuckle, he leans back against the sink, his voice lower and more off guard now: "You're one crazy motherfucker."

The mismatched eyes are gleaming, waiting for an answer.

"Alright," he says. "Meet me behind the university, around ten. Let's see if you really can make it up to me."

Dubhra gives him a held back laugh, lit up with excitement. "Perfect, I can't wait."