Max had switched over to Coke too late into the evening for it to work. He ended up having to stay at Johnny's. When they left the bar it wasofficially night. Johnny placed his hand on Max's shoulder and offered him the couch in his apartment.

"It's close to here!" Johnny was in a permanent state of half shouting after having spent hours in that loud bar. The entire walk Max had to signal to Johnny to quiet down whenever there were other people on the sidewalk.

"You should really move here, Max!" he kept saying in different renditions. Sometimes it would be a straight up you should move here. Other times it was you should think about moving here. Max brushed it off each time with either a "I don't know" or a "I'll have to think about it." but each time he heard Johnny mention the idea of him moving here he became excited. In his head he was already imagining the things he would need to do in order to move here. He would need to let the diner know, give them a warning. Probably would have to train a new chef. Would need to find housing here in 

Westcity

, would need to line up a job as well.

There was a long list. But he was having fun allowing his mind run through the simulation over and over again. Imagining what the apartment would look like. What kind of people his coworkers would be.

The walk to Johnny's was longer than he had expected. Not that it was long. Just that in his mind Johnny had lived a few blocks from the bar. As soon as they got into the apartment Johnny quieted his voice down. The perma yell from before had disappeared. Under the harsh white overhead lighting he looked tired.

"I'll get you some bedding." He came back and threw a sheet lazily ontop of the couch, placed an uncomfortable looking pillow on one end, and finally threw a itchy looking blanket  at the other end.

Max thanked his friends. They exchanged a few more words and then Johnny went into his bedroom and presumably fell asleep without brushing his teeth.