When It Rains

Part 1. Unexpectedly

It was half an hour past nine and I sat by the counter in a half-empty bar talking to a bartender. He is young and cool but lacks the intellect that would keep me lingering for another hour.

For one, I had one too many cocktails, and with the drinking spree just beginning, the long night was pretty far from over.

"One more shot and you're free to go," he said, deftly showing off his balancing skills." It was an attempt to keep me a little longer as he popped up more bottles of wine for a few more drinks.

It sounded convincing. But no matter how good it had rung through my ears, his proposal was still more of a cue to leave.

In this densely populated part of the city thrive some dingy joints like this, hidden along dark alleys, just across the main street. Seemingly awaiting more patrons and get discovered by tired laborers, it is more well-known to working professionals from the lower economic bracket, all of whom are seeking a place to take refuge from the hard day's work.

It was a bit chilly outside and on a rainy Friday like this, the bar would start bursting with life as tired yuppies file in. Some looked well-worn in their drab clothes and glassy eyes deprived of sleep long enough.

"You had just come in," the bartender interrupted under the increasing noise of chatter. "Stay for a few more minutes. More discounts coming your way."

"Uh-uh." I shook my head and slipped off the high stool I was sitting on at the bar counter. "I gotta get going. Another drink and I'd pass out in here," I said, grabbing my backpack and waving goodbye.

The rain was still pounding the ground but I headed out into the rainy sky. The plan was to run to a coffee shop and make good use of its wi-fi. One more story to write and I was off to go. But some days, things could really take a crazy turn.

A lightning flashed in the sky as thunder came roaring next.

The rain was growing stronger. From thin strips, it started coming down in torrents. There was no way I could take a dash to the nearest coffee shop. I could always risk getting rained out, but it was easier getting stuck outside the bar for a while.

I hate it when it rains. For one, I have never liked cold weather. Makes me wanna crawl back to bed and bury myself under the covers. For another, I hate getting soaked up in the rain, and the feeling of wet clothes sticking to my skin -- that is eerily disgusting. But then again, when it rains, some weird things happen in a twist of fate.

A black Range Rover pulled over to the opposite side of the street and a man in a military uniform emerged. He easily crossed over under the drenching rain. That would have been a crazy thing for anyone but for a serviceman, it was kind of a normal thing. They survive a rain of bullets so why get a fuss with rainwater, right? Piece of cake.

Unexpectedly, our eyes met and I was sure I saw a familiar face. And worse, he was heading my way.

"Oh, no. Not today..." I said, under my breath. "Of all places, why does it have to be here?"

I scanned the place for a corner I could hide from and luckily I found one. To my left was a young girl in skimpy clothes puffing out ringlets of smoke in the air.

"Trying to evade an ex-boyfriend," she asked impetuously as I dashed to her side desperately.

"Nope," I replied dryly. "Cigarette?" she offered and though I knew nothing about smoking, I pulled one off the pack. She lit it up and as soon as a I took a deep drag off the cancer stick, I choked and coughed hard intermittently.

"So much for pretending," she smirked. "Here he comes," she said, nodding her head to his direction. "Why are you hiding from him anyway?"

"Well, thank you for the cigarette, but I guess, it's none of your business," my eyes narrowed a bit.

"Oh. I got ya. With such an attitude, I'm sure you're gonna get back with him," she said in a sarcastic tone. "And if you wouldn't mind, I'm gonna go walk up to him and spark a conversation. Who knows? Might got lucky tonight."

"W-wait! wait!" I said. "You're right. He is still my boyfriend," I lied. "Rough time, you know."

"Oh. Pretty bad," she said with her eyebrows raised. "Good luck."

She inhaled deeply into the stick, puffed some more ringlets and threw it away. Then the darkness devoured her as she walked off from where I stood.

I was left with the cancer stick still between my fingers. Its ember was dying away, but I watched it crawl up to the filter.

"Gabbie?" I heard him asked in a tentative voice and stopped on his track when he saw me.

Busted. I could either run away and get drenched under the rain or I could say hi and pretend I didn't notice he was walking my way.