The Wasted King

By Ayad Al-Shakhly

In a hectic downtown of Wisconsin, bars, pubs, and nightclubs are thrown in a hidden competition against each other to see which establishment truly owns the streets at night. The owners and managers fuel it while Hugo, the young host of Toxin Club, tries to understand it. Balancing work and play, his booze-loving, womanizing, and troublemaking cousin, Saul, enters his life. Success and disappointments are celebrated with plenty of booze while the rivaling bars plot against each other in an underground financial war.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ayad Al-Shakhly
• Release date: Jun 25, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301043422

Ayad Al-Shakhly

Ayad Al-Shakhly attended the University of Omaha in Nebraska and the College of Southern Nevada. He currently lives in Las Vegas. "The Wasted King" is the first novel he authored.

Book preview

Part 1

(Through Hugo)

Let’s drink it away,

Sip by sip.

Gamble this day

With every drip.

Kiss it goodbye

With a coin flip.

I’m your only ally,

So come and sit.

I’m still shuffling the cards in the deck.

So straighten your tie,

You’re branded forever by the neck.

It’s been too long now

And I can’t remember how we met.

But nothing is important now.

Everything has already been set.

Chapter 1

Rocket

The firework was directly aimed at the open window of the house.

This is stupid. I told my friends, You’re going to shoot this at them just because they wouldn’t let you in at their party?

The house was crowded and loud with music. There were silhouettes of people dancing and drinking. Three of my friends and I were by the parked car with a large firework ready to set off.

Hugo, when and why did you become such a pussy? You got to listen to me. One of them turned to me with a lighter in hand, This is what happens when people think I’m not good enough for their house party. You see the way the guy disrespected me? I just want to punch him right in his goofy looking gums and knock out a few teeth of his.

We can always find a different party. I said, trying to distance his lighter away from the fuse. It’s Friday. I’m sure there are tons of other places we can be. Not being allowed at one party isn’t going to ruin my night.

One of them also tried to calm him down.

The dude at the door will let us in if we have some ladies in our group. I say we forget about this firework thing. The people inside might get hurt.

I don’t give a fuck. He said as he lit the fuse and jumped in his car.

The firework shot like a missile but missed the open window of the house. It ignited just outside the window but bombarded the lawn, creating a wall of smoke and color. It was the shot that was heard around world.

Let’s get in the car and get the hell out of here now. One of them shouted while the noise continued like a gunfight.

I heard screaming from the house along with people coming outside, probably to see who was responsible. I was still lost in the smoke and when I finally got to where my friends parked, I saw the car ready to drive off.

Sorry dude. We have to get out of here now. One of them said from the window of the car.

They drove off and I was on my own, so I started hopping over fences, running in any direction.

‘I can’t believe they just left me.’ I thought, feeling betrayed and alone in a situation that I lost control of.

Footsteps and sirens were behind me but I knew I could take care of it. The police showed up but I was sure they were busier finding underage drinkers at the party than the ones responsible for the fireworks.

My head kept repeating the phrase, ‘my friends suck’ over and over while I was getting clawed by the bushes I was sneaking through. Within a few minutes, it seemed like the whole street was swarmed with police. I could have sworn there was someone else chasing me and they were not in a uniform like the cops. My best guess was that it was the people that threw the house party.

It was a good thing I wore black pants. I probably urinated in them a little but luckily, no one would have been able to completely notice because of the pants were a dark color.

After running through a dozen blocks, I got to the hillside and out of the suburban neighborhood.

‘I guess it was a good work out.’ I thought sarcastically.

Below the hillside was the neon glowing downtown where the people of Wisconsin gathered around. They preferred to relax alone when the sun was up but craved some kind of social event when the night started. Every now and then, a restaurant opened and made the other places less popular. Most of the people of Wisconsin enjoyed the hole-in-the-wall bars but no one refused to go where the majority collected.

One street in particular had a chain of bars and clubs that were all different from one another. No matter what new hot spot opened far away, that certain street wouldn’t be beat, flooding with people and memories. From far away on the safe hillside where I sat and overlooked, downtown seemed indomitable. No single person owned it. It was managed by the multiple bar owners, insomniacs, ladies looking for fun, and the men looking for those women.

‘That’s where I’m going to hide out for the moment until this shit settles.’ I thought, sliding down to the downtown sidewalks.

Everyone around me was happily intoxicated, careless, and unwary. People were getting piggyback rides like they were still young. The scent of bratwurst was in the air because of the outside vendors.

The whole feel of Wisconsin was cozy.

You should watch where you’re stepping. An older man with a cowboy hat sneered.

I didn’t even touch the man but he was drunk and angry. I smelled the whiskey off his breath. He came up to my face and stared at me like I owed him money and he was ready to collect. No one around us seemed to care.

My bad, I replied.

I was ready to slap the guy but it wasn’t about inflicting physical damage. It was all about shock. I usually wore rings in case any conflict went too far. I would have sent my arms swinging. He continued to stare and waited for my move.

I didn’t want to start more trouble after the firework attack. I felt like bitch slapping the mustache off the dude but I stayed calm and kept walking..

I walked away from the man calmly, blowing out the steam like a tea kettle.

The neon lights of the bar were clearly spelled out like stars in the sky. It spelled out the name of the bar. I arrived at Toxin Club; my safe haven. The manager was one of my dad’s friends and I was ready to use that friendship if I had to. I also knew the place rarely checked identification. I felt police wouldn’t think of finding me there.

I heard the bussers at work. The sound of glasses and cups clung in the back. Some light from the club’s sign pole projected outside in the dark parking area. The cars hurdled around the maze and people were all around the club like ants on a piece of candy on the ground. This was the late hour where restaurants were closed and bars ruled the night.

I heard that the waiters and waitresses paid attention to what kind of car the customers drove and assumed higher tips. The rule was that the better the car, the better the tip. There were too many other variables though.

Toxin Club was distinct and unlike the other lounges downtown. I thought about Plato’s Cave.

‘How’d I get into this again?’ I thought constantly over and over.

Inside the club, I heard the manager’s voice over the crowd.

Straighten up your tie. He lectured one of his employees.

It was a busy night and plenty of police roamed the streets outside. Even though I felt safe and out of sight inside the club, I felt safer if I was in the back where the employees were. As I panicked, my mind thought of different scenarios and ways out of trouble.

I casually walked to the employee-only area as if I was looking for the bathroom. The employees were finishing up their smoke breaks then walked all over the storage boxes to get back to where their customers awaited. The door that separated the guest area from the employee area was like the door between a paradise by the beach and a dog shit with corn in it. The club was kept clean and classy. The employee area was ugly and unswept.

I tried best to stay out of sight from both the drunks and the employees.

It’s a crazy night tonight. I just can’t wait to go home and sleep. One worker said to the other.

Eh, I’m trying to make the best of it. The other responded, putting his cigarette out.

Both of them quit talking and pretended to be busier than they were when the manager passed by. I was standing next to a large ice machine. I made sure no one saw me there while I placed myself stealthily on the side but didn’t account for my obvious shadow that projected itself on the floor.

What are you doing here Hugo? The manager asked me.

I looked down at his shoes like a son to a disappointed father.

You shouldn’t be here. You’re a good guy. Bars are for crazy people. He continued.

He had a positive image of me for some reason.

My dumb friends put me in a bad situation.

In midsentence, the police were at the front of the door and the manager noticed it through the crack of the employee door.

Don’t tell my dad about this please.

You owe me. He said, Tell me the story later but for now, hide out in my office. They might be here for you. They might not be.

I turned off the lights when I got in the room and sat on the office chair. The manager went over to check what the problem was in the guest area where the cops were. I wasn’t able to hear too much. The walls were not thin.

The cops came closer to the office door and I just held my breath.

Let me air you out

With these large headphones.

Down a static route

With or without

Any doubt about me.

You’re just here to hear

No secret, no unknowns.

You’re a stringed up puppeteer

And I’m the microphone

Humming on my own

In a drunken tone.

I’m the New York Times

And you’re my target.

Don’t mess with these rhymes.

My lyrical crimes.

Criminals aren’t blessed,

Felonies to rest,

The story undressed.

Chapter 2

Bartender

I stared at the mirror in the club bathroom, watching the cold water slowly drip down my face. It synchronized with the background music that played to the sleepless bar patrons. Water put me at ease.

Months passed since the night of the firework escapade. At first, the manager made me wash dishes in the back since he hid me away from the police. I was walking back on the right road again without the bad influences like before.

I enjoyed the feeling of work and the sense that Toxin Club was like a second home. I continued to work for the bar, even though I was still in high school at that point.

Hey Hugo, you’re needed in the break room! One employee yelled.

The break room was by the cleaners and dishwashing machines (which was surprisingly the dirtiest place in the building). When the bussers cleaned off a dish or picked up the random garbage the customers left behind, it sometimes fell on that floor. The garbage that became part of the wet floor occasionally got stepped on by the workers. In the end, no one had a second to notice until it was closing time. No one had time or cared to clean up since no customer saw the back area, thus not being able to complain about it.

I stopped to think that the break room was my temporary getaway from the customers and servers. This was my breather. This was my temple and it was being polluted.

It was my peaceful hideaway, even though I still heard the loud music, the drunken conversations, and the annoying laugh that came from the loudest girl in the bar. The door only silenced some of the volume.

There was a mirror in the break room that really needed to be cleaned. There were some handprints on it and when I checked myself out in that mirror, my life looked ugly and disappointing. It was as ugly as the rag on the floor that covered up spilt booze. I made a note to myself that I needed to wipe the mirror later.

How are you holding up so far? The boss asked me.

I replied while I straightened my tie, It’s not hard. I’m handling it.

You haven’t seen this place when it’s really busy. He said, I got a new guy to clean the dishes and glasses.

Is he replacing me?

Yes. He said, followed by a pause.

The fuzz on his face was his distinct feature, along with his frowning pissed off look.

‘Is he going to fire me or something?’ I thought.

Hugo, what are your plans after high school? The boss asked.

College of course.

He sat down, lit a cigarette, and continued, I believe there is a mistake in the structure of the new American society. The development of a new high school graduate is expected to go to college. This in mind, these children do not have any real money. They won’t be taken care of by their parents anymore. So what do they do? They eat the cheapest microwavable soup to save money. They become hungry and unable to perform to their fullest. They’re not fully developed mentally yet at that age. So while they are physically hungry and weak, they are expected to do their best in their classes while still thinking about how they would pay off the cost of their tuition. I’m not against college. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m against rushing it.

So what are you getting at?

Would you like to continue to work for me? I’m advising that you should be a little more financially stable until you go down the route you planned. Isn’t that more of an intelligent alternative?

I guess I never thought about it.

You have a whole summer to think about it. He patted me on the shoulder. Tonight, you’re going to help out the bartender. I don’t need you washing dishes anymore.

Cool. I said, smiling.

Be on the lookout for anything unusual though. The one you’re helping out specifically is somehow making me lose money instead of gaining it. I have trust in you.

Hatim! The manager of the bar across the street is requesting your company. A voice said from the front.

That was when I learned the manager’s first name.

I passed by the kitchen on my way to check on the guests. I stopped by one of the cooks; the cook that had terrible body odor.

Hey Hugo, The cook stopped me with a sneering voice. My trashcan is full.

I gave him a look while still trying to dodge the other cooks and hustle of the back of the club.

Yeah? Thanks for telling me. I fired back jokingly.

The cook frowned and continued in his spiteful tone, Well as you can see, I’m busy and you’re one of the youngsters that work here. Don’t you know your place by now?

I sent a smirk.

Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. I said politely.

I didn’t intend to take his trash out; not even if it was a favor or if it was my actual job to. I didn’t want to take that sack of shit’s trash out. My plan orchestrated beautifully in my head like a well-planned ballet or synchronized clockwork. I only told him I would so he would expect the trashcan to be empty.

‘When he checks to see the trashcan at the end of the night and see that it’s still full, I’ll pretend to play stupid or tell him I forgot.’ I thought, ‘That’ll for sure piss him off.’

When I made my timely check through the lounge of guests, I did however notice that I was indeed ‘one of the youngsters’ that worked there. I then recalled how the manger promised me over and over that I would one day become the night manager if I continued doing good at work. It was like how an adult gave false promises to a child when the reward never existed. I didn’t want to be taken advantage of but there was still that glimmer of false hope knocking on my door.

‘I’m not going to allow myself to be treated like some youngster fuck.’

I walked down through the bar thinking about if I was the manager. I wasn’t ready. I felt ready, but I was missing a few pieces out of the overall puzzle. Maybe it was the caffeine that day or something else.

I put those thoughts quickly in my mental trashcan and made myself useful to the bartender.

You know the biggest mystery to someone is himself. The bartender said to one of the female customers as he fluttered his eyes flirtingly.

It must be nice chitchatting with ladies all night and call it a job. One of the workers said under his breath, not thinking anyone heard him.

Hey Hugo, The bartender noticed me, I heard you’re going to be my little helper tonight. Can you give this to the table over there?

He handed me a tray of beers and pointed at a booth.

Here you guys go. I said to the customers.

The bartender asked again to hand out drinks but what I noticed was that he made me attend to all the male customers while he flirted with female ones.

He showed off to another group of females, I don’t understand how you ladies don’t have a group of guys swarming around you. You ladies are very beautiful.

They giggled, Oh it’s just a girls night out.

I understood the problem that the manager was talking about. While the bartender ignored the male guests and handed them off to a different worker, he only focused on the females. It probably subtracted the potential profits in half.

I purposely came closer to one of the booths with some of the females he was flirting with to listen in on their conversation. One of them looked uncomfortable.

Come on, the bartender is kind of a creep. The night is still young. Let’s try out a different bar. One of them whispered.

Then the bartender came with a tray of mixed drinks.

Hey ladies, this one is on the house. He winked and went back to the other female customers.

‘Maybe saying nothing would be the smarter move.’ I thought, ‘I don’t want to be make enemies at work.’

I felt a hand pat me on the shoulder so I turned around.

Hey bud, you’re needed in the back. The boss wants to talk to you. One of the workers said, I hope you’re not in trouble or anything.

I made my way back but I knew I had to pass the kitchen. I tried to avoid one of the cooks but I failed.

The cook spotted me and spoke slowly with a forced smile, I was looking for you. Did you forget about something?

I knew he got pissed