A Multitude Of Lies

Chapter 1

Life was simple, at least it was for me. I had a roof over my head, food on the table, and a pretty decent income that keeps my shoplifting habits at bay. Okay, maybe not that decent, and I kid about the shoplifting part. As much as I want to be a badass and hang with the cool crew, I'm more of the geeky kind, enjoying my book and decaffeinated latte. One thing I did lack was the company of a special friend on a regular basis. Too geeky for the chicks, that's what my homies say. Other than that, all good.

Single life was manageable. Though I do wonder sometimes how it feels to have someone else take up an important role in your life. I mean, we all have 24 hours in a day, and you need time for work, food, travelling, rest, entertainment, and socialising with friends and colleagues. Where do you slip in time for a significant other? Classify them under socialising? Or would that be entertainment? I tried searching that on the net, but search results weren't as informative as I would like them to be.

So at 23, with no assets, no girls, a handful of friends who are more interested in climbing the social ladder, I think I am officially a loser.

Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 floats through the air, interrupting my internal monologue. Where is that coming from? Oh wait. That's my phone.

"Where the fuck are you? You were supposed to meet us at the bar an hour ago."

Rudolph. Crazy ass Asian who thinks he's Australian, and drinks way too much. Not half bad though, despite having to save him from drowning in his own puke on a couple of different occasions.

"I'm on my way, be there in 5. Anyway, I'm not drinking tonight. Designated driver this time round to keep all your sorry asses out from jail."

"Make sure you get here in 5 minutes. If not you'll be footing the bill AND sending us home. There's someone I'd like you to meet, so stay perky yeah? See you in five."

Rudolph introducing someone to me? I hope it's a potential client. Business was on the decline due to the bear market since last year. We could really use a couple of fresh deals and monetary injections. There were rumours of a supposedly bullish turn in the market after a year of bear run, but who can predict the market? Lehman Brothers had just announced a first quarter profit of $419m. Not much, but still in the green and very promising compared to how some other large firms were doing.

Left turn, and here we are. Wasserloch. Our local hang with a German name. The meaning of it? It literally means "water hole". Talk about being creative. I can't blame the owners though, having studied in Germany for 2 years, I have learnt that the Germans are innovative, but not exactly the most creative folks out there. But despite the crappy name, the intriguing thing about this place was the internal decor. You take a step through the doors and be immediately transported through time and space to a 19th century Germany beer hall. Traditional kegs behind the bar counter, crests and flags upon the walls, men in lederhosen and beer wenches in Dirndlgewand serving draught in huge oak mugs. Quite a sight to behold.

17 minutes. That was how long I took to reach. Way longer than promised. And so that night was on me. Rudolph was sitting at one of the benches in the corner, with an oversized lady for company. Not knowing what to expect, I sent a text to him.

"Rud, that the lady you're throwing my way? You sure know my likings well. (Insert extremely sarcastic look here)"

"Mate, quit dawdling and get your ass over here. Oh, and grab 3 cold ones while you're at it."

Mugs in hand, I walk over and set them down loudly, making sure to splash some of the beer on him.

"Arschloch."

"Nice to meet you too." I took the seat beside Rudolph and turned to the lady in front of me.

"Hello, I'm Kyle, Rudolph's... Friend."

I extended a hand, hoping I did right, and not screw up the entire evening into a whirlpool of awkwardness. Social etiquette isn't exactly my forte. Especially when meeting new people. I did my homework and actually looked up how to meet people and strike conversations.

"Hey, Rachel here. And you are Rudolph's.... Friend? Why the hesitation? Or is there something I'm missing here?" She raised an eyebrow while throwing a wink at Rudolph.

"Cut it out, he may be gay, but I sure as hell ain't into rainbow farting unicorns. And I am extremely sure last night was proof of my orientation!" Rudolph ran his hands up Rachel's inner thigh. It was evident that the duo had a bit to drink before my appearance.

"Come on. Not here out in the open, and certainly not in front of me! I'm too young for that." I protested while reaching for the mug of cold draught.

"Young my ass. You're 23 turning 60, you ancient piece of shit. And that beer isn't for you. You're the designated driver for tonight remember?"

"Wait a minute. There are three of us here, and I can't drink. So who am I missing? And since when were you the responsible drinker? All these years I have known you, I've never seen you sober, even when taking the Nationals."

Just as I finished my sentence, a pair of hands pushed me from the back.

"Hands off my beer. I'm the mystery that got you all muddleheaded, and you are in my seat."

Turning around, I saw a pair of boobs stretching the fabric of a white tank top, staring back at me. Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring. With much difficulty, I managed to avert my gaze upwards and saw the most stunning pair of eyes I have ever seen. Green with flecks of brown, seemingly glittering gold under the warm lighting of the beer hall. Dark brown tresses caressed her face, shaping it and drawing attention to the sharp yet delicate facial features. Is that freckles I see? Obscured by a black rimmed glasses sitting upon her nose, I couldn't be sure. Her tank top hugged her figure perfectly, accentuating the curves in all the right places. Her pale blue jeans, shredded slightly, showing bits of her thigh, gave hint to a perfectly tanned girl with flawless skin. She looked as though she popped right out of an Aussie beach fashion magazine just without the bikini.

"Oh wow... I mean hi, I'm Kyle." Flustering slightly, I shuffled to my right, returning the mystery girl her rightful seat. Internally, my heart was pounding wildly against my chest. How do one talk to such a beauty? What do I say or do? All the research done beforehand gone down the drain. In a blink of an eye, I went full retard. And you never go full retard.

"Real slick mate. I'm Amanda."

"Amanda is my colleague at the airport. She works the back office where reservations usually come in." Rachel chirped in helpfully.

"Yeah go ahead and give him my address while you're at it. " Amanda snapped at Rachel.

A fiery character fitting of that hot bod, I thought as I tried to decide whether to like her or hate her. But luckily for me, Amanda cheered up almost immediately after a long draft from the mug. The evening held some promise. The feeling of awkwardness lifted almost immediately once enough alcohol went around.

The conversation picked up almost immediately, with the ladies showing a really worldly view on beer, politics, travel, and even cars. And that is truly impressive. Even the hipsters back in Germany weren't all that well versed. The attraction is strong with these.

Watching the three of them take turns swigging from their mugs, I too gave in and got myself a beer. One beer led to another, and before long, the four of us were almost as drunk as the Irish, and we dragged ourselves out to the car. Amanda rode shotgun, and Rachel was probably doing something to Rudolph in the backseat. Not wanting to risk my license driving under influence, I pulled in to a cheap motel by a gas station. Two rooms, one for the reindeer and the whale, and the other for Amanda and me.

The night came and left, with two couples, and probably more in other rooms, fornicating with a blatant disregard for social norms.