Josh slammed a twenty dollar bill onto the dark wood countertop of the bar, earning the attention of the irritable bartender, who had worked a day job prior to his shift at the bar and was NOT in the mood for anybody's shit. The bartender shot him a glare from where he was making another customer's intricate shot, warning him to wait patiently or risk getting kicked out. It wasn't like he would actually do it; Josh was a regular and they wouldn't want to risk losing his business. Nevertheless, he quieted down, wishing that people would stop ordering stupidly complicated shots and just take something simple.
He sighed, wishing that Oli would hurry up and get there already. It was a given he would show up eventually, he had probably just had a hold up at work that night and wouldn't be off until later. This, consequentially, meant he couldn't get to the bar until later, which really inconvenienced his drinking buddy.
The negligent at best (and hostile at worst) bartender made his way over to the man impatiently awaiting service and demanded his order in a frustrated tone. The customer asked for two beers–one for Oli, one for him. He ordered two different kinds, both in bottles, as was the norm.
This made for more appealing smashing, in his opinion.
He didn't think Oli cared about the aftermath of the destruction-he just liked breaking things-but Josh liked to admire the glass afterwards. He thought it was quite nice the way the glass shards caught and reflected the light, especially when there were multiple colors. That's why he always got different types of beers.
Different beers, different bottles, different glass.
Oli walked into the small, grungy pub, the door banging shut behind him. He didn't look too happy, and he had a good reason.
Saying Oli had a rough day was the understatement of the year. His boyfriend had decided that he was tired of him always being tired or slightly drunk, and had called it quits. No more relationship. Oli felt as if his heart had been torn out, which would be enough to warrant classifying the day as awful, but that was only the start. Some idiot in his department at work had majorly fucked up some files and left HIM to deal with the mess. He was swamped in work, and he had had it up to his ears with idiots.
Needless to say, he was not the happiest camper.
Oli aggressively pulled out the stool next to Josh, who hadn't previously known it was possible to aggressively do something as tame as pulling back a chair. The stool screeched across the tile as he plopped down on it, picking up his designated beer and taking a long drag of it.
"Today fucking sucks," he declared bluntly.
"Tell me about it," Josh agreed, nodding his head. He hadn't had the best day either, though he doubted it was worse than Oli's, judging by the disgruntled appearance worn by the man, the one that was so foreign to the usually insouciant character. "What screwed your day up so entirely?" he prompted.
"Work. Tyler. The usual," he said vaguely, not quite ready to expand on the matter. He waved for another drink, getting a different type that came in a red bottle. Prior to drinking it, he hadn't been aware they HAD red beer bottles, though that was unimportant.
"What happened with Tyler?" Josh pressed curiously.
"He dumped me," Oli answered in a flat tone that betrayed no emotion.
"I'm sorry to hear that," he offered in an attempt to comfort him, though he suspected his own words to be hollow and nothing more than empty niceties.
"What about you? What made your day awful?"
"Everything. They're laying people off again. I got another citation about my lawn by the stupid Homeowner's Association," Josh explained, leaving out the part that his cat got run over last night. Oli might have loved that cat more than him, in all honesty.
