For seven months now Arvid had worked waiting tables and bartending at the Chapel, a cellar restaurant in Old Town. It wasn't a religious place by any means, oftentimes more a place of what many would describe as sin. Just during his short time there, Arvid had witnessed businessmen coming for lunch with their mistresses, married chefs with kids making the moves on young waitresses, bar-staff having sex in the bathrooms while on the clock.
Alice had entered as a trainee about a month ago. At first, Arvid contemplated mentioning it to Liv, but he hadn't come around to it, and now she would probably be weird about him not saying anything earlier. Besides, he and Alice hadn't exchanged many words since she started on the weekends, barely even polite glances. Truthfully he felt far from fond of her, and how she had so bluntly dismissed Liv and what she went through with Alice's dad those years ago. Luckily, she apparently wasn't keen on reminiscing over childhood memories of kiddie pools and polly pockets with him either. This one night however, Arvid knew she and a few more of the newer staff was coming with him and his work friends for After Work. It was typical of Max, to ask out the barely legal, wide-eyed girls for drinks. Of course they hadn't dare decline. Then Max was exciting in the eyes of young girls, Arvid guessed, with his self assured way of moving, his arm tattoos and easygoing manner, which made him ideal for bartending. The question was, how far would he take it?
It was past two AM, all of them were considerably drunk and Max was whispering something in one of the teenage girls' ear as they slow danced. The girl, whose name Arvid had forgot, giggled and shrugged, followed Max as he led her towards the club's bathroom. Sighing, feeling his entire body itch, he got up and headed towards the two of them. Just as he was about to reach them he almost ran straight into Alice. She gave him a skeptic, measuring look which caught him so off-guard he lost his train of thought completely. Instead, she reached for her friends' arm and started to ask her something.
"He's gonna show me his tattoos!", the girl beamed at Alice.
"That all you planned on showing her?", Alice yelled over the loud music.
"Why? You wanna come too?", Max said and cocked an eyebrow, which made Alice frown deeply.
Before she could answer though, Arvid cut in.
"Max, look, everyone's drunk. How about we all stay out here and out of trouble huh?", he suggested and Max's expression soured slightly.
"No need to police me, Svartling, she's totally into it mate."
"She's like what? Sixteen? I thought you were with Phoebe now anyways."
Phoebe was another colleague, part of the bar staff.
"History. History for sure", Max muttered.
During their short discussion Alice had pulled her friend outside. Max had noticed as well, and to Arvid's annoyance he followed them.
"Christ", he heard Alice say and roll her eyes when she saw them outside.
Before Max could instigate conversation Alice's friend threw up in the street.
"Well…", Max looked a little disappointed, "You'll help her out, right? Great, see you both next week."
"Moron", Alice said under her breath as she held back her friend's hair.
"I'll grab her a glass of water", Arvid offered but was quickly rebuffed.
"We're good."
"No I'd like some water", her friend winced.
"Not from him", Alice wheezed.
"Alice, come on. I'm not gonna roofie her."
"Well with the company you keep you just don't have me convinced."
The words were out his mouth a second later.
"I thought you of all people would be more open minded in terms of such things."
As the words landed all color left her face.
"Leave us the fuck alone", she spat.
"Hey, I'm sorry, that came out wrong."
"Did it? Really? What was it you meant to say? That my dad's a rapist?"
Arvid suppressed a flinch and Alice's friend looked up, clearly confused. Holding back venomous words, he bit down on his tongue hard, started to count to ten inside his head.
"As if I don't already know that."
Now that was news to him. Last he heard, Alice had gone with her mother's pathetic excuse of a story, about how Liv had likely provoked and came onto her husband.
"Alice… look, Max was way out of line. I'm sorry. I was gonna stop him inside."
"I know", she said tiredly.
"I'm calling a cab for the two of you, is that okay?"
A nod. Twenty minutes later they had left.
"Thank you. For the other week. I mean it."
"That's not something you need to thank me for."
"I don't agree. Not everyone would do what you did. Some people might have figured… I don't know, that... Beatrice only had herself to blame in that situation."
"Then some people are idiots", he stated, feeling like perhaps the subject of the conversation had turned more general.
"I agree", she said softly, "But sometimes those idiots get you to sway. If you're naive, and well... also an idiot."
"Alice, we don't need to talk about that stuff. In fact, I'd prefer it if we didn't."
"Why?", her voice was smaller and more fragile than he had ever heard it.
"Because it would just upset the both of us, and likely lead nowhere."
"I have never talked about it with anyone."
Arvid caught on her words. That seemed odd... Although it made sense at the same time. Who would she talk about it with? Except for Alice herself and her mom who was present when the assault had taken place, no one that he knew of even knew. Besides, it wasn't like she would be able to talk to her friends about it. When a customer walked up to stand next to Alice Arvid nodded for her to go around and join him behind the bar.
"Has that been hard for you?"
The softness in his voice surprised him. Alice merely shrugged, moved a dishtowel slowly over the bar-surface.
"I denied it even happened at first. I'm sure you know about that. I always kind of knew he did do it though. I knew Liv would never make that stuff up but I...", she swallowed, "I couldn't get around it. That it was true meant that..."
"What?"
While he poured a glass of rosé for the guest he saw that Alice had gone very pale.
"I'm from him, he raised me."
Arvid's heart sank at the shame and disgust in her voice.
"You ever assault anyone?"
"No."
"Then there's nothing that binds you to it. Look, I have a good friend who's... whose father would subject him and others to all kinds of shit, the worst kind of things. Still, he's the greatest friend I have, Alice, the best, kindest person I know. You're not guilty by association, it doesn't work like that."
"Hey, no runners behind the bar, Svartling, you know better", the shift manager called from the kitchen area, "Want a HR-case on you or what?"
"Sorry", Alice murmured and blushed, hurried back out to attend to a stack of dirty plates.
But when his shift was over, she caught him on his way out and thanked him again, for making her feel better this time. Against sound judgement, he heard himself tell her that if she ever needed to talk about it again she could come to him.
Afterwards, he cursed himself slightly. Why had he said that? What was he imagining - that he would be some sort of elder-brotherly figure for her? When she had in fact held such little regard for Liv. Still, for some reason it bothered him, that she had had no one to talk to for all these years. Alice held herself like a self-assured person, she acted like one, he had seen proof of that at the club the other night. But the way she had almost stopped breathing when talking about her father made it clear she hadn't found peace. How would she be able to, anyways? Was she seeing him? Was he living with her? Annoyed, he found himself in desperate need to ask her those things. Arvid knew he couldn't, not unless she came to him again, wanted to talk about it again.
Alice's thoughts were whirling as she biked home. The tall, auburn haired boy she had occasionally come across during her child and teenage years was much kinder, much wiser than she had ever imagined. The foolish notion of calling him flicked through her mind but she shut it down immediately. It wasn't fair to him, or to Liv, to burden Arvid with her feelings. The number was available in the work forum, she realized, before stopping herself again. Besides, what was it that she needed to say so badly? When she remembered the things he had said about his friend it felt like being cleansed, as if she was clean, for the first time in years. That feeling, she guessed, was dangerously addictive and she was already craving for more of it. More of his wise, brown eyes, more of the slight exhale-y exasperation in his voice when he said her name. Shit. Male validation huh?