When Mazak walked in he immediantly heard commotion all around him. He twirled looking around trying to find the source, confused as to what exactly was occurring. His eyes, searching the area rapidly, found the source. The bartender it looked like. People were grumbling and looking at each other in what seemed like panic, two girls were standing there and staring back at the crowd who were staring at them. Then eventually what ever they wanted must have been brought out because everyone began to cheer which left him confused even more than when he entered. So instead of trying to venture through the crowd he looked around for his mother, he saw her quickly laying down items at a table and walked briskly to her.
"Hey, how are you dear?" his mother asked when she saw him out of the corner of her eye, he shrugged simply, "Tired. Like always, what time do you think you are getting off tonight?" she looked up and her eyes were glazed over, she seemed lost. It was like she didn't know where she was, but then she blinked a few times to clear her vision and then looked around as the memories of recent events all came flooding back to her. She scared Mazak a lot lately, it seemed like she needed to stop working and see a doctor or something, she wasn't anything close to healthy anymore, her health dropped dramatically when his father died, it seemed like everything went down hill because of that.
"It doesn't look like I am getting off anytime soon." Mazak snapped out of his thoughts at his mother's voice then frowned, "Late night huh? Do you mind if I hang out then?" his mother looked around her place of work again, seemingly close to falling back in to her glazed over mind frame, but some how clinged on, "Maybe for a little while. I don't know if the manager will be okay with it. I'm sure if you pay for service and such it couldn't hurt for you to stick around." with a nod Mazak walked to his normal table, slid in to the seat and began to relax, what a day. He almost felt himself fall in to sleep's grip, that was desperately trying to pull him down and hold him there. Maybe it would happen, maybe it wouldn't, it all depended on how long he wanted to fight the sensation pulling at him. A kind looking girl walked over to him and told him that as soon as someone was avaliable they would wait on him, and then she began to apologize continually about the delay he would have.
Mazak shrugged it off and smiled at her saying it was no problem, he was in no rush. After all, he wasn't. There wasn't anything to rush, his mom was busy so he wouldn't be trying to go home anytime soon, not until everything died down and he was ready to take her home. Then he would start up the conversation about her health, and try to get her to quit saying he was still young and he could take on a few extra jobs to cover his mother's expenses, and of course she would say that there was no need. Then in a polite yet commanding voice tell him to stop with such thoughts, after all they never had screaming matches like a lot of the other parents and kids did. No there was mutual respect there. The conversation that he played in his head was easy to imagine, because they have had it every night. He has wanted nothing more than having his mother relax like she needed to and try to perserve as many years as she could, but she was a worker.
She loved to earn her own money and her own things, she hated to have someone pay for her all the time. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed then talked out loud to himself: "Oh mother... When will you give up and just try to live calmly and peacefully? You deserve it and you need the rest. Everyone knows that after father's death you have been working yourself too much, it is almost like you are trying to hurry to the after life to meet him." he froze as he said that last line, then looked over to where his mother was hustling around trying to get all the tasks that she needed done accomplished. Then he whispered something that was barely audible, a prayer, that is something it could be considered in a way. It was more like a plea though, something he was silently asking, no, begging his mother to do. Please tell me that isn't what you are doing... Please tell me that the stress isn't going to drive you to death... Mother... Please... Don't follow father...