I usually like to avoid the throngs of college students that flood the bars on Friday nights, but tonight was a special occasion. So I took the subway downtown, close enough to the universities, where the bars serve bad food but good beer, and the bartenders will let me stay late because they all know I tip well. 

I picked the one that looked the least crowded and slipped inside, weaving around the tables to make my way to the counter. My usual seat, though, was occupied and I would have been annoyed if I hadn't been expecting to see the kid. I hopped up onto the stool beside his as he prodded the shot glasses in front of him into a perfectly straight line. 

"I'll have the usual," I called to the bartender, who nodded and handed me a tall, cold glass of Guinness. 

The kid glanced over at me with bloodshot eyes and I could see him struggling to rouse himself. "Chen? Is that you?" 

"You're drunk, Luhan," I replied. "You should go home."

"No way, man!" He raised a partially full glass of whiskey into the air in a mocking manner. "We should invite the whole gang together to celebrate. Here's to finishing college without killing anyone else! What did you wish for?" His laugh was loud and unnatural. I just sighed. 

"Go home, kid," I repeated, sipping my beer slowly. Icy and bitter, just the way I like it. "You're drunk." 

Luhan belched and folded his arms on the counter. "No, I am not drunk. I am the soberest...sober guy there is." 

I just nodded, which seemed to irritate him more. Although, honestly, anything I did at that point probably would have irritated him. "You don't care, do you?" he snapped. "We killed a man-" 

At that, I shoved his head down onto his arms and leaned over his ear. "Say that a little louder, you moron." 

"I'm sorry," he whined as I slowly released the back of his shirt. "I won't say it again, promise!" He sat back up, his lower lip sticking out as he rubbed the spot where his forehead had hit his arms. I guess it's true when they say that alcohol will turn you into a caricature. 

I gave him a pitying look and reluctantly ordered a second beer, sliding it over to him. "You should try this sometime. It takes longer to get smashed, which means you won't be doing anything stupid."

"I'm not stupid," he mumbled, taking a tiny sip of the beer. The he picked up the glass and drained about half of it before turning to me, his hand over his glass. "Did you know that the rate of botched lethal injections in the US is 7.2%? I mean, it's supposed to be the most humane method, but then you have people gasping and thrashing when they're tied down to a gurney."

"They still die in the end, though," I said, taking another sip. "That's the point, right?" 

He gave me a disgusted look and we sat for a while in silence, me slowly finishing my drink, him watching the bubbles rise to the top of the glass. Then he drained the glass and smacked his lips before turning to me again. "I know what you guys all thought of me. You thought I was a spoiled little kid who knew nothing about the real world."

"Still do."

"Hey!" He shook his head, frowning slightly. "I believed in something, you know? Standing up for people who can't help themselves, making the world a better place and all that. I believed in something."

"I know," I replied.

Luhan stared at me a little too hard, blinking a few times before picking up his train of thought again. "I'm a liar. A liar and a hypocrite. Which is also a liar. Did you know that?" I didn't answer and I don't think he was expecting one because he kept on babbling. "I sold my soul, Chen. We all did. None of us can judge anybody else anymore." He sighed and rested his cheek on the countertop, letting his arms dangle down by his sides.

The bartender reached over and plucked my sleeve. "You're friends with him, aren't you Chen? Get him home before he gets hurt."

"I still need to pay." Luhan tried to reach into his pocket several times and missed. After watching him struggle for a few moments, I sighed and handed the bartender my card. "Thanks, dude. I owe you." He placed the rim of the beer glass in his mouth and tipped his head as far back as it would go to cast the remaining dregs. 

The trip home was a nightmare. The air was damp and thick, bringing back memories of the long ride home from the courthouse. It was deja vu, with me and Luhan sitting side by side and looking straight ahead, afraid to look at each other because if I acknowledged him and he acknowledged me, then we would both have to acknowledge what we had just done. 

This time, however, it was a little harder to ignore Luhan. He practically knocked me over on the subway as he swayed back and forth before falling against me. Each time the subway turned, his head bounced off the window and then ricocheted off my shoulder. When we finally reached his stop, he seemed to have forgotten how to make his legs work and I had to yank him to his feet, sling his arm over my shoulder, and drag him out of the subway car. 

"You really need to drink less," I muttered as I hauled him off the train and onto the platform.

He yawned. "Special occasion."

There was no elevator in his apartment building (which should be illegal, by the way), and I had to get him up three flights of stairs to his room. He more or less had to rest his entire body weight against me as his feet developed a mind of their own and insisted on tripping us up repeatedly. After carrying him through the door, I dropped him onto the couch to let him sleep off the effects of the alcohol. 

"Chen..." he mumbled, his eyes barely open. "Thanks, man." 

I just nodded, though I don't think he could see me. "Sleep well," I said and turned to leave before his voice rang out again. 

"What we did...it was wrong." Something glittered in the corner of his closed eyes. "It was really, really wrong." 

I just sighed. "Glad you think so, Luhan." 

Karma's never really there when you need it because after helping Luhan get home, I didn't get home until very late. So of course I was roused bright and early by the sound of someone trying to break down my door. 

"Police! Open up!" 

I jumped out of bed and rushed for the door of my apartment, nodding to the two cops trampling my Welcome mat. "Good morning," I said, stifling a yawn. "Is something wrong?" 

"Kim Jongdae?" the shorter cop asked. 

"Yes. I go by Chen-" 

"We need to bring you in for some questioning." 

I glanced down at my t-shirt and boxers. "We'll wait for you to get dressed," said the bigger cop, pushing past me into the apartment, where he stood with arms crossed, looking at the mess that my place usually is. 

I've learned a long time ago that it's never a good idea to let the boys in blue wait, so I headed back to my bedroom. I could hear them shuffling around my apartment as I quickly pulled on my jeans and a decently clean shirt. 

Any questions I could have thought over or any theories I had were drowned out by my growling stomach. I hoped things would be over quickly, but I knew that with the cops, that was never a good bet to make. The police settled me down in a nice, hard chair in a dark room and left, closing the door behind him. Overwhelming thoughts of food were starting to make me dizzy, so I rested my head against the table. I was starting to drift back to sleep when the door opened again and a detective walked in. 

My eyes widened in surprise when I saw him and I caught the momentary shock on his face. But then he brushed it off, the stony demeanor he was so famous for settling back on his face. 

Kris Wu, rising star of the police force. When I met him, he was just a beat cop, but over the past year, his career had rocketed, gaining him promotion after promotion. I didn't expect him to remember me though and I was pretty surprised that he did. We were never friends, or anything. 

"Kim Jongdae," he said, sitting down in the chair across from mine. 

"It's just Chen," I replied. 

He nodded briefly. "Can you tell me where you were last night?" 

"The Grange. It's a small local bar-" 

"I know what The Grange is. Were you alone?" 

"I went there alone, yes." 

"Were you planning to meet up with someone?" 

"No." 

"Did you meet anyone?" 

My brain stopped thinking about food just long enough for me to realize where this was going. "Did something happen to Luhan?" 

"I'll ask the questions, Mr. Chen," snapped Kris. 

"It's just Chen. And I need to know this. Yesterday, he was babbling on and on about how it was a year later and how what we did was wrong." 

Kris's eyes narrowed and he pulled back abruptly. "Did anybody hear him?" 

"Not that I know of. It was pretty loud in there." 

His face relaxed visibly, before snapping back to its cold and frozen look. "Did you leave together?" 

I nodded. "He was drunk out of his mind and the bartender asked me to take him home. I dragged him to his apartment and left him sleeping on the couch. Did something happen to him?" 

Kris gave me a hard stare before speaking slowly. "His friend went to pick him up for breakfast and found the door open. When he went in, Luhan was dead on the couch. And that means you were the last person we know to see him alive."