John Wick - Chapter 49: Addy at the Underground Bar (Patreon)

New York Continental, first-floor lobby.

The rest of the drive went smoothly enough, and the two made it back to the hotel safely.

The gate outside the Continental opened automatically for them.

At the far end of the lobby, Charon stood impeccably dressed behind the marble front desk, head lowered as he sorted through something.

He looked up.

“Good evening, gentlemen.”

Charon's English carried its own distinctive cadence.

He looked the two of them over.

“Judging by appearances, I take it tonight went fairly well?”

Neither of them had suffered any serious injuries, though their suits were filthy and disheveled after all the fighting.

“Would you care for laundry service?” Charon asked.

“Sounds good,” John said.

“You can both return to your rooms and freshen up. Someone will come by shortly to collect your clothes.”

Charon paused before adding, “Oh, and now that your business is finished, you might want to unwind at the underground bar. The manager will be down shortly.”

“Want a drink?” Nate asked John.

“Sure.”

After cleaning themselves up, the two headed to the underground bar and each paid one gold coin at the entrance.

Probably because of the late hour, there were far fewer people inside than Nate remembered from the movie.

A Black female singer was performing with a band behind her. Nate couldn't understand what she was singing.

Still, it wasn't bad.

When the singer noticed him looking her way, she gave him a wink without missing a beat.

Nate shuddered.

When he looked again, she was smiling as she turned her attention elsewhere and kept singing.

John had already taken a seat at the bar.

A beautiful bartender came around from behind the counter, still holding the white cloth she'd been using to polish glasses.

The instant she saw John Wick, her whole body seemed to jolt.

“Oh, shit!”

Her voice shot up despite herself.

“Jonathan!”

John's expression barely changed, but the line of his mouth softened slightly.

“Hey, Addy.”

Addy hurried over, and the two exchanged a cheek-to-cheek greeting.

She tilted her head back to look him over, then planted both hands on her hips and shook her head as though making sure she wasn't seeing things.

“My God. How long has it been? Four years?”

“More than five,” John said.

“I thought I'd never see you again.”

Nate stood behind them, watching with an emotion he couldn't quite put into words.

Addy only had a couple of scenes in the movie and barely a handful of lines, yet through her, the director had shown one of the most important parts of John Wick.

The vulnerability hidden beneath all that strength and resilience.

Addy tilted her head, curiosity flashing in her eyes.

“So tell me. How's life on the outside?”

John was silent for a beat.

It was brief, but Nate caught it.

For that instant, John's breathing faltered ever so slightly.

“Good, Addy.”

His voice was low.

“Much better than I deserved.”

Addy's smile faded a little.

She was smart. She didn't need him to explain anything else.

His tone had already told her enough.

Her eyes flicked toward the ring finger of John's left hand, then quickly moved away.

“Hey.”

She leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice.

“I'm sorry. I heard about...”

“Thank you.”

John stopped her before she could finish.

It wasn't a harsh interruption. It was more like he'd caught the word before it could fall between them.

Addy didn't press him.

She simply stood there and studied him for several seconds, narrowing her eyes slightly as though noticing a new scar on an old friend's face.

“I've never seen you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Worn out.”

The words hung between them for a moment.

John didn't argue.

His eyes lowered, and the jaw beneath his stubble tightened briefly before relaxing again.

Then he looked up.

The faintest trace of a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, but there was no happiness in it.

Only self-mockery.

“I reti...”

The rest caught in his throat.

John fell silent.

Addy looked at him as though she knew exactly what he'd meant to say.

“Coming here for a drink doesn't count as being retired.”

“The usual?”

“Yeah.”

She was about to turn toward the liquor cabinet when Nate came over and sat beside John.

Addy noticed him and raised an eyebrow.

“What about you, handsome? What'll you have?”

“Same as him,” Nate said.

Truthfully, Nate knew almost nothing about alcohol.

In his previous life, the only alcohol he'd really drunk was beer, and even then only because he had to during company gatherings.

In this life, he hadn't touched alcohol at all.

But he couldn't exactly come to a bar and order a Coke.

Addy glanced back at the two of them, her fingers curling around the cabinet handle.

She opened it and took out a bottle of bourbon.

In the dim light, the liquor inside looked like liquid amber.

She opened the bottle and poured two fingers into each glass, her hand as steady as a surgeon's.

Then she slid the glasses toward the edge of the bar and lightly tapped the counter.

John picked up his glass, gave Addy a nod, and drank in silence.

“Thanks,” Nate said.

He picked up his own glass but didn't drink immediately.

Instead, he looked down at the amber liquid.

Then he took a sip.

His Adam's apple moved above his collar as the liquor went down.

The instant the alcohol hit his throat, his shoulders twitched.

Yeah.

He didn't like it.

He wasn't used to the taste.

Nate set the glass back down.

Back when he'd watched the movie, he'd actually wanted to try this.

Now that he finally had, it wasn't anything special.

Addy leaned against the bar, arms folded across the brass countertop.

She didn't say anything else.

She simply watched the two men quietly.

Nate observed the scene from the side.

The strange sensation of fiction and reality overlapping made the back of his neck tingle.

Addy.

A character who had barely appeared in the movie at all, yet she was the second person to call John “Jonathan” after his return to the Continental.

Jonathan.

Not John.

Not Mr. Wick.

There was warmth in the way Addy said it.

Simple, genuine warmth.

She didn't care how many people he'd killed.

She didn't care whether people called him the Boogeyman or Baba Yaga.

As his friend, all she cared about was whether he was doing all right.

Come to think of it, what was John's actual name again?

How did this guy have so many names?

Jonathan, John Wick, Jardani... and then that long last name Nate couldn't remember.

Maybe he needed to come up with an intimidating nickname for himself too.

Nate was still staring at the drink he couldn't bring himself to finish when John raised his glass toward him.

“Nate Lin.”

John spoke his full name.

Then he said, “Thank you.”

Nate smiled and lifted his own glass.

He held it slightly lower than John's as they gently clinked them together.

There was a faint smile on John's face.

Nate smiled back.

“You're welcome, Mr. Wick.”

Addy watched the two of them getting along so naturally and came over.

“And who's this?” she asked John.

“My...”

John paused.

“Partner.”

“Oh?”

Addy's eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Our Mr. Jonathan actually made a new friend?”

Nate looked just as shocked.

But Addy understood.

Friendships between men, especially men who had fought side by side, had a way of forming without much explanation.

“This calls for a celebration!”

Addy's eyes curved with a genuine smile as she raised her voice to the entire room.

“Drinks are on me tonight!”

The patrons who were still downstairs immediately joined in, and the bar erupted into noise.

At some point, Winston and Henry had come down the stairs and taken seats on the U-shaped sofa.

Winston didn't rush John.

He sat with his fingers interlaced, quietly watching Addy and John catch up.

A faint smile rested on the old man's face.

There was no calculation in it.

No polite pretense.

Just simple appreciation.

Henry stood beside him, a cigarette burning between his fingers without ever reaching his lips.

“An occasion like this,” Henry said quietly, “doesn't come around often.”

“No,” Winston agreed.

For once, there was no mockery in his voice.

“That girl understands people better than most I've met. And she knows when not to push.”

John set his glass down.

The base touched the brass counter with a soft click.

Addy reached over and moved it half an inch closer to herself.

She didn't ask whether he wanted another.

From how quickly he'd been drinking and what still lingered in his eyes, she could tell he didn't need one tonight.

“Go take care of your business, Jonathan.”

The playful tone was gone.

The seriousness in her voice gently covered the joking atmosphere from moments earlier.

John stood.

His movements were light now, without the exhausted heaviness of someone struggling out of deep mud.

But the moment he reached his feet, his entire presence changed.

The silent, weary middle-aged man disappeared inside him.

In his place stood Baba Yaga.

The man who would not stop.

The man who would not turn back.

John looked at Addy.

She gave him the slightest nod.

Winston walked over and rested a hand against the back of John's chair.

“It's time we sat down and discussed business.”

John said nothing.

He followed Winston toward the booth in the corner.

Henry stubbed out his cigarette and jerked his chin toward Nate.

Nate quickly got up and followed.

As he passed the bar, his eyes met Addy's.

She handed him a card, then calmly went back to polishing her glass as though nothing had happened.

Nate looked down.

Written across the card in elegant handwriting was a short message.

“Thanks for looking out for him. Next time you come by for a drink, it's on me.”

Nate gave Addy a nod.

She smiled and winked at him.