Shadows (Patrick Kane)

(37) Iris

Sophia

Ever since I was a teenager I went to the bar whenever I wasn't sure what to do. Even if I wasn't old enough they still let me in, I was a Elway, I didn't hear no enough times as I was growing up. My friends and family weren't always there for me but beer was. And I know it's not healthy to use that as a type of coping mechanism, the answers I need weren't going to be at the bottom of a bottle, in another mans bed, on the floor of a girls restroom in the first bar I see. 

No one cared enough to stop me from self destructing when I was 18 years old and trying to get into trouble. They were usually the one cheering me on because it was considered cool. The only time my dad gave me any sort of attention was when he was pulling my drunken ass out of a club I never should have been in. But I moved away and eventually not even he cared to stop me. My so called friends joined me, I was fun and I knew how to get into places. My name alone allowed me to do things I shouldn't do, and my looks allowed me to get away with it. For no one was going to turn me away at the door when I'm promising my money and a good time. Throughout my life the one constant I knew would always be there was the bars.

Old habits die hard. That much I know for sure. So when one of the guys at work asked me to come to the bar I thought nothing of it. It's been too long since I last got drunk in public and I was over due. Plus he was buying and I can't turn down free drinks.

So I pull out a old club outfit and let my hair run wild. We go into the first bar at 10 and before I knew it it was 4 am and the bars were starting to close. I stumble out of a bathroom and try to find my way to the door to exit with the masses. I couldn't tell you where I was or where I was going but I knew I wasn't supposed to be here too much longer. My eyes wander the emptying establishment looking for something familiar.

Finally I see a head of blonde curls and I smile to myself. I knew those curls anywhere.

I walk over and jump into his arms. Patrick pulls me in close as I embrace him.

"Oh Patsy, it's good to see you! I missed you" I tell him.

"Are you behaving yourself" he asks as he slowly lets me go.

"I think so" I try.

"Are you aware you've called me 8 times tonight" he wonders.

"Only 8" I ask making him chuckle. He softly brushes the hair out of my face so he can look me over.

"You did it to yourself pretty good. But I think it's time to go home" he tries.

"Do one dance with me" I beg.

"I'm not supposed to be here, remember" he asks.

"Oh I remember. I remember we used to have great times doing this every night and now you want to be a party pooper. Tonight was no fun because you decided you wanted to be boring" I accuse.

"Responsible" he corrects.

"Same thing" I mumble making him smile.

"Judging from your texts it's way past time for you to go. So let me get you home" he insists.

"I wanna stayyy" I pout.

"They're closing soon, we need to let them clean up and get ready for tonight" he tries.

"One song" I say again as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

"And I thought you were hard to deal with sober" he accuses.

"Pleassseeee" I whine as I stick out my bottom lip. I give him the best puppy eyes I got and he breaks easily.

"One song" he promises. "Then I'm taking you home."

"Deal" I cheer.

I quickly grab his hand and pull him out to the nearly empty dance floor. The DJ plays the slow songs hoping to weed people out. Jokes on him because I can dance to any song. So I throw my hands around Patrick's neck and his arms pull at my waist. The space between us starts to disappear as I slowly sober up.

"And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
And sooner or later, it's over
I just don't wanna miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am."

"Why did you come here tonight" he whispers in my ear as my fingers pull him in tighter. "I thought you said you were done with this."

"You said it Pat, not me" I remind him.

"I thought this was something we agreed on" he tries.

"Maybe you were ready to let this part of yourself go, but I wasn't. This is where we met, where I first started to realize my life was good but it was better with you in it. Those nights we spent on the dance floors, the drinks we shared and the memories we made. I'm not ready to put them in the past like you are" I try to explain.

"You came here because you missed how things used to be" he connects.

"Yeah... I guess I did" I admit.

"Things are changing" he reminds me.

"I know. But why do the good times have to stop" I question.

"We still have good times. Every moment I spend with you is a great time. And not because of the club the music or the beer. It's because I get to do it with you" he explains.

"And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah, you bleed just to know, you're alive

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am."

I rest my head on his chest as his hands move to my lower back. His grip on me tightens and my eyes flutter close. He had a point, we didn't need to be here to have a good time. This crutch, this place, I didn't need it anymore. But a even scarier thought was me needing him instead. G