Zayan got dressed as fast as he could, he quickly put on a red button-up with a black vest over top of it and black dress pants, he concealed a knife under the bottom of his pants and just above his black and red combat boots, a habit he would get in the future due to an assassination.
Then he grabbed his bag, which held his phone, wallet, and other belongings. The bag was, of course, black and red to match his clothes. After all, Zayan was a stickler for matching his accessories and shoes to his clothes.
After he ensured he had everything, he rushed out the door to his car and immediately headed to "Aizel Bar", trying not to be too late, otherwise, he'd earn an even worse scolding than what Stephan was already planning on giving.
And luckily for him, he arrived just as the other three did. As Zayan was pulling up he spotted Stephan and Nikos standing in front of Stephans car, and Koen also standing next to his motorcycle, taking his helmet off, strapping it to his bike's handle, and walking over to Stephan and Nikos.
As Zayan pulled up to the spot next to Koen's bike, his hands began to shake. He was unsure of the exact reason, but he knew that one of them had to be because he hadn't seen Stephan in so long, especially since he was alive and in his usual state of healthiness.
Before the hecticness of the accident involving the two best friends, Stephan would hit the gym almost every day, except the days he had a job. For you see, Stephan was the Rhory group's official, and best sniper, so considering that he would be included in almost every job, he would make sure to stay strong and have excellent stamina in case he had to run from the cops or other members of different crime groups.
Once Zayan was parked in his properly, and made sure he was as straight in the spot as can be, he took a deep breath before getting out and heading towards the trio.
"Well, well, look who finally got out of his car, mister boss-man himself!" Nikos poked at Zayan, but was also joking with him, "We were worried you were going to be late!"
"I'm not ever late, you guys are just the early ones, and if you're going to refer to me as "Boss-man" please do so at work, and not at public places such as this," Zayan had snapped back, being used to Nikos' teasing.
Nikos was the group's sort of "Honey Pot," his job was to gather information and seduce anybody who had something they wanted, and then he'd steal it from them while they slept. He only got the role thanks to his looks, if he wasn't blessed like he was now, he'd just have been another lower-ranked member.
"C'mon Zayan, lighten up a bit," Koen said, familiarly patting Zayan's shoulder, "It's our day off, let's try to have fun and not be all serious, alright?"
Koen was actually from a different group known as the Sungar company, and he played the role of the "Thief" there, but even with that being his assignment the rest of the quadlet trusted him enough, considering the two groups were allies and all.
"He's right," Stephan jutted in, his accent still as strong as when he actually lived in France, "Though I suppose you were also taking it easy considering that you weren't even ready when I called you!"
Stephan scolded Zayan like he used to back when they had still started up, with the same tone and same accent. He was standing with his arms crossed, looking down at Zayan with an angry frown on his face, though with the three standing in front of him as they were, they just looked like some sort of dessert.
Nikos had short curly dark red hair that was paired with blue eyes and sandy skin. He was wearing a burgundy button-up and black dress pants along with a long black trench coat with a burgundy fedora. He was the same height as Zayan and Koen, who were both two inches shorter than Stephan.
Koen had straight light brown hair, coupled with hazel eyes and ivory skin, he was also quite muscular. His choice of clothes would remind you of one of those newspaper boys from the 1890s, with a cream-white button-up and loose black pants that were held up with a pair of equally black suspenders, that was stopping his tucked-in shirt from bagging up. He completed his look with a thin trench coat, just a shade lighter than his pants.
Unlike the other two men's choice of looks, Stephan looked quite refined. His strawberry blonde hair which went down to the nape of his neck in the back, was slicked back, showing off his Amber eyes that seemed to glow in the dim lighting. He was wearing a tan button-up with a set of brown suit pants and a suit vest as well as a brown trench coat with fur on it, matching the two other men's. He wore his shoes with the same color, they were "perf toe balmoral" shoes.
"You can only say that because we all know you got ready earlier than us, I mean just look at you! Compared to you, we look like a pack of bar rats!" Zayan overexaggerated, trying to get Stephan to calm down and say otherwise.
Bar rats was a term that had recently popped up among the fancier bargoers, it was essentially the bar term for street rats. It was generally used among the more "posh" visitors, you know, the VIPS.
"Oh please, you're all handsome men, even if you were wearing hoodies you'd still look nice," Stephan admitted, his ears turning a bit red.
"Aw, look at our little Pokerface mascot finally showing some emotion!" Nikos poked, clasping his hands together, placing them by his right cheek and rapidly blinking his eyes at Stephan.
Stephan was the poker face, smart type. But once you got to know him more, he would sort of soften up and be more nice and funny. Those, those attributes made him a bit shy and introverted, but he was still outgoing enough to lend advice.
"Ugh, shut up!" Stephan raised his voice, his face reddening from embarrassment before mumbling, "I don't even know why I hang out with these dweebs…"
"Hey, I heard that jackass! But insults aside, can we go inside? It's cold as hell outside!" Zayan said, shivering. Not thinking it was going to be too chilly, he didn't bring a coat along with him, and he didn't notice the chill when he was going to his car earlier either due to being in a rush.
"Pfft- Your only cold because you forgot to bring your coat, ya dumbass!" Koen poked and teased, cursing Zayan in a joking manner.
"Shut. The. Fuck. Up. I know I did, but if somebody didn't rush me!" Zayan shouted, swatting at Koen for his coat, but Koen dodged his hand. Zayan then turned to glare at Stephan.
"Don't be blaming me, I told you yesterday to set an alarm and a reminder, you just forgot to, so I had to call and remind you," Stephan shrugged, a smug look on his face.
"Why you-!"
"Hey, are you guys gonna keep arguing or can we go in now?" Nikos interrupted, standing by the entrance doors with his left hand on the handle of the door. His other hand was on his hip, a look of impatience drawn on his handsome face.
"When the hell'd you get over there?" Koen chuckled, walking over to Nikos and going in with him, the other two following his example.
"While you guys were bickering, I have no interest in fights among friends!" Nikos exclaimed, raising his chin with a 'Hmph!'
"Yeah right, you're the one that started the whole thing!" Stephan replied, pointing out the truth.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Koen laughed as he ran into the bar, and Zayan followed behind as Stephan chased after him.
Entering the bar, it was the same as Zayan remembered it. The black and white checkered tile, and the old-timey feel with the slick walnut wood that makes the bar, belonging to the bartenders, accompanied by the cushioned stools and their half-backs.
The large chandelier in the center of the big room filled it with dim light during the night and lighting up the table and chairs that decorated the room. And the same old corridors that lead to the private VIP rooms that people could rent out for a surprisingly cheap price, but only if you had a membership.
Zayan was hit with a wave of nostalgia, everything that he loved about this place was right back where it belonged, even the old bartender who owned the place and died taking a bullet for him in the previous timeline.
Everything was as it should be, even his place at the bar as the group approached and the old owner placed Zayan's usual drink right in front of where he usually sat.
"Lovely evening tonight isn't it, huh gentlemen?" He greeted, his British accent as strong as ever.
The bartender's gray hair was slicked back like always matching his short gray beard, giving him an extra gentlemanly flair, his chocolate brown eyes were barely open except for when he was cleaning and shining cups with them closed. He wore a black pair of suit pants and a vest with a vertical thin white striped pattern on them, overtop of a gray button-up coupled with black loafers and a pocket watch with the chain hanging from the inside of his vest to his breast pocket. On his chest was a name tag that read "Alvertos Bromley."
"Indeed it is, Mr. Bromley," Zayan responded while nodding, taking a seat, and feeling the wood of the bar, one that Zayan missed after his passing. Zayan then took a sip and almost teared up, it was the same old taste that Zayan missed.
"Hahaha, Well I'm glad you agree!" Mr. Bromley laughed and then turned towards the peanut gallery sitting next to Zayan and took their orders.
***
As the laughter faded away and Zayan returned home a wave of loneliness washed over him, but it was soon waved away by an unresolved will to start his re-planning.
Parking his car in the garage and going inside, he was once again greeted by his reflection in the hallway mirror. His wavy dirty blonde hair was still neat as if he had never gone anywhere, and his emerald eyes were no longer filled with doubt, but instead unwavering will.
A will to complete his revenge in success, never giving up until he's achieved it or got over it, which we all know will never happen. With a determined expression, he went down the basement stairs and into the long hallway, then opened the door at the end and went inside.
He flipped the light switch on in the room, then went over to one of the walls which had a curtain covering something. Removing the curtain, revealed a board with pictures and papers all connected with a string attached to the thumbtacks.
Zayan then started to tear all of it down, all of the progress from the years before he awoke. He carefully un-wove all of the string, took down the photos and files, then put them away in the cabinet.
However, he left one thing out. A picture of his worst enemy, Sorin Brydis of the Bastian group and hero of the city. Someone he despised even with his reputation as a hero, someone who failed him when he need him most.
Stepping back and grabbing a dart from the dartboard on the wall next to the "Murder map," He carefully aimed and threw a dart right at his smiling face in the photo.
Leaving the room with a satisfied smile, he went upstairs, did his nightly routine, got into his PJs, and went to bed.