The city lights blur like smudged stars. Guess that's what happens when you're drunk out of your mind
What time is it? Doesn't matter.
My shoes scrape against the metal bridge as I stagger forward, one hand clutching a bottle of cheap whiskey. The other hand? Busy waving at the night sky like an idiot.
"You're an asshole, Victor!" I shout, voice echoing down the empty road. "You hear me? A first-class, grade-A, hand-polished asshole!"
I laugh. It sounds cracked, hollow even to me. Maybe that's fitting.
The bottle sways dangerously in my grip as I take another step forward. I'm tired. My head's heavy, my throat's dry, and my tie feels like it's trying to strangle me. I tug at it, curse under my breath, and finally rip it loose.
"Stupid thing…" I mutter, letting it fall to the ground.
I slump down beside the railing, legs stretched out, the city lights blurring below. I take a long sip from the bottle, the liquid burning its way down my throat before settling warm in my chest.
A satisfied sigh escapes me. "Ahhh…"
I lean my head back and laugh weakly. "You're still an asshole, Victor!" I shout again, louder this time. My voice echoes across the empty bridge.
"Every damn day, it's something," I grumble. "Doesn't matter if I do it right! No, no, there's always something wrong, isn't there? Too slow, too fast, too quiet, too loud."
I take another drink. The bottle's getting lighter. "That bastard's made an art form out of nagging." I chuckle weakly. "Bet he dreams about yelling at me."
The thought of facing him tomorrow makes my stomach twist. Just imagining his smug face, that condescending tone, that freakishly long nose and eyes that only knows how to creep on others and lets not forget his fat ass beer filled gut. Makes me want to throw the bottle straight through his office window.
"Tomorrow's gonna suck," I whisper. "Again."
For a moment, I think about just not going. Calling in sick. Staying home.
But the idea dies as soon as it comes.
Home. That shitty one room moldy apartment.
Alone.
I don't want to be alone. Not with my thoughts. Not tonight.
I fumble around in my pocket until my fingers close around my phone. It takes me a second to unlock it my hands are shaking, or maybe I'm just that drunk.
The screen lights up.
My wallpaper stares back at me. Me and Sofia, smiling like idiots, faces pressed together, the world looking a lot less cruel back then.
I swallow hard. My chest feels tight.
I unlock the phone, and there they are. The messages.
Unread. Unreplied.
Dozens of them. Her last one sitting at the bottom of the list.
Sofia: Please call me back…
I stare at it for a long time. My thumb hovers over the keyboard.
Hey.
I'm sorry.
I'll call you.
The words appear one by one, then vanish as I erase them.
"Not tonight," I mutter.
I lock the phone and shove it back into my pocket. The night felt colder.
The phone buzzed in my hand. I squinted at the screen, the name blinking up at me through the haze. Sofia. For a long moment I just stared at it, thumb hovering over the green icon. I could've let it ring. Pretended I never saw it. But somehow, against my better judgment, I answered.
"Delian?" Her voice was soft, hesitant. "Please talk to me."
I stayed quiet, staring out at the water below the bridge.
"Delian?" she tried again.
"…Yeah," I finally muttered.
There was a pause, only the faint sound of her breathing on the other side. Then, almost in a whisper, she said, "I'm sorry. Please… forgive me."
My jaw tightened. The words caught somewhere between my chest and throat. It wasn't easy forgiving what she did. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't force it out.
"I love you," she said after a while, voice trembling.
I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood. My heart stuttered. I almost said her name almost. "Sof—"
Then a man's voice came from behind her, faint but clear. I froze. The world seemed to go quiet all at once.
"Delian?" she asked softly. "Were you about to say something?"
"Yeah…" I whispered. My voice felt empty. "Fuck you."
I hung up. The night swallowed the sound. I slumped back against the railing, staring up at the sky.
The phone rang again almost immediately. I groaned when I saw the name—Victor.
Of course.
I picked up anyway. "What?"
"Delian! Where the hell is that report I asked for?"
"On your table," I said flatly.
"I still cant find it-.."
"Under your monitor."
A pause, then, "Oh. Found it."
I didn't bother replying. "Don't be late tomorrow," he continued, his tone smug. "Or your salary's getting docked again, got it?"
I didn't answer. I just ended the call.
A second later, another notification popped up. State Bank Loan payment overdue.
I stared at the message, blinking slowly. It didn't even surprise me anymore.
That loan… the one I took for Mom's funeral. I was already late last month because Victor decided to hold my salary.
I exhaled, long and tired. The kind of sigh that comes from somewhere deep, where words don't reach anymore.
Delian muttered under his breath, staring blankly at the dark water below. "What a messed-up life…" he said, voice low and heavy. The wind carried his words away, but he didn't care.
Everything felt wrong. Everything was wrong. He tilted his head back, eyes tracing the faint stars through the city's haze. For a moment, he just stood there, bottle dangling loosely in his hand. Then he chuckled half a laugh, half a breath of exhaustion.
"Do you hear that?" he said suddenly, raising his voice. "Oi!"
His voice echoed faintly against the water.
"If those so-called divine beings are out there…" He waited, almost as if expecting an answer. But there was nothing. Just the sound of cars in the distance and the soft whisper of the wind.
He smirked bitterly. "As expected."
His eyes narrowed as he looked up at the sky again. "My whole life, I was told the gods created us for a reason. That they put us here with purpose." His grip tightened around the bottle, knuckles whitening. "But what fucking purpose?"
His laugh was hollow, cracking somewhere in his throat. "To suffer? To crawl through life begging for scraps? To watch everything you care about crumble while they sit up there doing what? Watching?"
He took another drink, the liquid burning down his throat.
"If you're really out there," he muttered, "you've got a sick sense of humor."
"You're unfair," I muttered, voice trembling with a mix of anger and alcohol. "Unfair and shitty."
The bottle clinked against the metal railing as I gestured toward the sky. "You put me here, didn't you? You, whatever you are. Up there." I laughed bitterly. "Was it funny to you? Watching me struggle day after day, working that shitty job just to survive?"
I scoffed, shaking my head. "I get it, I'm poor. I was born with nothing, fine. But really? You couldn't do better?"
My body swayed a little as I stepped closer to the edge. The cold night wind bit at my face, but I didn't care.
"And what about my love life, huh?" I said, my tone sharp, mocking. "Was that another divine joke? Did you guys all sit around laughing while you decided to mess with that too?"
I grabbed the railing and started to climb, the metal cold beneath my hands. The world spun a little, but I pressed on, my drunken mind burning with frustration.
"Everyone always says there's a reason for everything," I went on, voice rising. "That it's all part of your 'grand plan.'" I spat the words like venom. "Well, let me tell you this grand plan of yours is the shittiest thing I've ever been through!"
I spread my arms, staring up at the cloudy sky. "So what now? You gonna strike me down? Smite me? Come on! Let me hear it!"
Silence.
Just the hum of the city below.
"They're a bunch of shit-faced freaks," I slurred, the words raw and loud in the cold air. "I don't care anymore. I wish, no, I want YOU to exist just so you can hear me. Hear every complaint. Hear every goddamn shitty thing they did."
I rocked on my feet, dizzy and laughing like a madman. "You're clowns. All of you. If I ever see one of you, I'll kick your ass," I said, raising the bottle and taking a long, defiant swallow. The whiskey burned and I loved it for it.
My fingers found the x shape rosary at my throat without thinking. The little cross clinked against my teeth as I yanked it off and held it up to the sky. "Religious? Not anymore," I spat, voice thick. "Not after everything I went through." I flipped the cross with a shrug, then, without hesitation, flipped the bird at the clouds. "Fuck you, sky-beings. Or whatever you are."
My laugh died into something harder. "You took the one thing from me they shouldn't have. Never even gave her a chance. Maybe" I swallowed, the name hovering for a heartbeat-..."maybe you got off on it. Found joy in watching us break."
Gods or no gods, I bared my teeth at the sky. "I'd love to punch those so-called gods' faces," I growled, the words tasting like iron.
My phone buzzed again. I fumbled it out of my pocket, thumbed the screen and nearly dropped it when a message from an unknown number lit up:
"Are you sure about that?"
I squinted at the words, mouth twisting. Huh? Who the hell is this? Before I could do more than stare, another message flashed:
"I'm the one listening to you're complain right now."
I snorted. Did my phone get hacked? I typed, Very funny. Who is this? then stopped my fingers sloppy with booze.
"No…" the reply came. "What complaints do you have about the gods?"
I answered, "Oh them? I have every complaint."
"How amusing" the phone replied.
I blinked at the screen, drunk and confused. Who the fuck are you and how can you hear me? I hammered out.
"I'm someone simply looking out for you" the next message said. "They're annoyed at you, you know"
I let out a hiccuped laugh. "They who?" I typed.
The reply came slow, each dot popping like a small drumroll.
"...The gods."
I barked a laugh into the night. The gods? Fuck them. I didn't care. They could take my middle finger and shove it where the sun don't shine, bet they'd like that, the bunch of freaks.
The message blinked back almost immediately.
"Oooooh now you really pissed them off."
I let the sound that escaped me turn ugly and low. "Good" I typed
My phone buzzed again.
"You're not afraid?" the message read.
I snorted, shaking my head. "Afraid?" I muttered aloud, then typed back, I've lived my whole damn life in fear. Of failing. Of being broke. Of being alone. But now? I've had it.
The wind cut across the bridge, cold against my face. I took another swig before typing again. I even went to church every damn weekend, you know? Tried to be good. Tried to believe.
My thumb hovered for a moment, then I kept going. "They say if you're relentless and devoted, the gods will bless you. Well guess what? I don't feel blessed. Not one bit. Feels like those so-called gods just shat all over me instead."
The screen flashed with a reply almost instantly.
😂
Then another message followed. "You're funny, Delian."
I barked out a bitter laugh. "Funny? Yeah, sure." My thumbs moved again. "I'm not funny. My life is."
"Wait…" I frowned at the screen, squinting as the letters blurred. "How do you know my name?"
"A reply came fast. I know more than your name, Delian"
That sobered me a little. "The hell?" I muttered and typed, "What are you, some kind of stalker?"
"No," the phone answered. "Well… sort of."
I blinked at it, then snorted. "That's creepy.
"Another message appeared almost instantly. "Relax. I mean you no harm. But I know others who do."
I stared at the text for a long moment, the words swimming before my eyes. "Others?" I typed back. I don't remember making any enemies.
"You've made plenty now" came the answer. "More than you already know."
"What?" I whispered, then typed it. What do you mean?
"Don't worry" the message replied. "I'll protect you."
I frowned harder. "Protect me? From what? And why?"
The dots blinked for a long time before the next text appeared. "You'll see soon enough."
"I'm so confused", I wrote. The last message came instantly, glowing on the screen:
Good luck.
I stared at it, unblinking, the night humming quietly around me. Then my foot slipped.
"Shit—!"
I tried to steady myself, but the railing was slick. The bottle flew from my hand, the phone slipped from my fingers, both spinning into the darkness below. My other foot lost its grip, and in an instant, the world tilted.
"Shit! Shit, shit!" I yelled, my voice cracking with panic. My legs kicked wildly, searching for something solid, anything to hold onto. Nothing. Just empty air and the mocking wind.
"Help!" I shouted, the sound tearing out of my throat. No answer. Not a car, not a person, not even a stray echo to remind me I wasn't completely alone.
I laughed, a desperate, broken sound. "Is this what I get for complaining about you shitheads?" I spat, staring up at the sky as my arms trembled. "What a joke."
Was I really going to die here?
The thought hit me hard, sobering for a heartbeat. My heart pounded so violently it drowned out the wind. I could feel my fingers slipping, the icy metal slick from sweat and alcohol.
"I hate this," I breathed out, eyes wide. "I hate all of it. My boss, my life, this damn world!" I gritted my teeth, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. "And especially you… you fucking gods!"
I tried to pull myself up, teeth clenched, body trembling. My fingers screamed in pain, slick with cold and liquor.
"Come on…" I hissed through my teeth.
But the alcohol had betrayed me the grip just wasn't there.
Images flashed through my head Sofia's face, her tearful voice on the phone; that stupid desk at work piled with papers and misery; my mom's smile before she got sick. All of it hit me at once like a cruel montage.
If I fell, I'd never see any of it again. Not even that shitty little apartment I used to hate going back to. And that one expensive liquor that i was saving for. The fuck is this i cried inside.
My throat tightened. "This… this can't be how it ends," I said through gritted teeth. "Not like this."
I tried to haul myself up, but the slick metal and alcohol-soaked hands betrayed me again. My grip slipped a little, the sudden jolt sending lightning through my arms.
"Come on!" I hissed, panic breaking through the haze. "Not yet! Not yet, dammit!"
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry anymore. Both wanted out. Both felt right.
For a heartbeat, I hung there, a pathetic man caught between the sky and the abyss, cursing everything that led him here: Sofia, his boss, the world, the gods. Especially the gods.
"Go to hell," I whispered, and pulled one last time.
The metal slipped from my hands with a faint clang.
For a split second, everything went quiet.
Then the world tilted. The sky flipped upside down. The wind roared in my ears.
And i fell down, down into the cold, black abyss.