𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒, 𝐓𝐍. dreamwastaken

SIX

A thud landed around Clay, making him snap his eyes open and look at the beer glass that was aggressively placed in front of him. The bartender gave him a nasty look before turning his head to look besides him.

His eyes followed the bartender's and he looked besides him, seeing Vienna take a long sip out of whatever she was drinking. He quickly snapped his head, turning to look around the room and the environment around him; a loud college bar filled with students, alcohol, and loud house music.

"Are you okay?" she spoke, snapping Clay out of his trance from looking at the room that surrounded him.

"Oh, yeah. Just loud," he said, following it with a pity laugh. He grabbed the handle of his pint glass and took a long sip of the beer he didn't remember ordering.

"We can head out if you want," she offered. Clay swiveled around in his chair and looked at her, seeing the genuine look in her eyes.

"No, no don't worry about it."

"You're being weird." She etched her finger around the rim of her wine glass while she stared into his eyes.

He thought about the beautiful eyes she had. The bright green stared at him and reminded him of the grass he was in when they first met. She was perfect. But she wasn't real.

He stared back at her but stayed silent before his eyes averted to the beer in his glass in front of him.

"What are you thinking about?"

He smiled and look back up at her and she reflected a smile like his- only prettier.

"You."

"What about me?"

"You've got the most gorgeous smile I've ever seen."

"I'm sure you've made a lot of girls smile but I'm sure mine's not the prettiest," she replied keeping eye contact.

"Fine. You've got the most gorgeous face I've ever seen." She giggled and looked down at her glass before taking a swift sip of it and put it down in the same exact place it was before.

"Why are you here Clay? Why are you in California?" Her expression quickly changed.

"I'm not sure."

He was being genuine. He had no idea how the storyline had changed to them being on the west side of the states. He just woke up there.

"That's the same answer I've heard all night. You're here for a reason."

"I'm here for you."

"I'm married, Clay. You can't be here for only me."

The sentence hit him like a bag of bricks. Married. He finally looked over to her hands and saw the silver band wrapped around her finger with a diamond at the top.

"Why are you married?" he asked, sounding like a kid confused by the idea of forever.

"Because I loved a man who loved me." She stretched out her arm and extended her fingers, looking at the ring that looked so delicate on her pale fingers.

He stayed silent, looking at the alcohol in his pint glass before grabbing it tightly and taking a sip.

Married.

The word seemed like blasphemy as he kept repeating it in his head and staring back down at her finger. An small object kept Clay from grabbing her and kissing her in that bar. A small object he couldn't stop thinking about.

"You're worrying me, Clay. What is up with you?"

"I don't know." He grabbed the glass again and swallowed the rest of the liquid that resided in his glass. It fell down his throat like a thousand knives that had the intention to pierce his heart. As the liquid finally settled in his stomach, he felt the symptoms of only a drunk man- sad, lonely, angry. His vision went fuzzy as he looked at the glass in his hands. "You love him?"

"I do, a lot, actually. Are you okay?" she said with a mean tone. She was getting quite offended by the way he kept asking questions as if he had no idea when in reality, he had no clue.

He aggressively placed the glass on the table, Vienna watching as it spun around and almost fell onto its side. "Are you drunk?" she asked, again with a rude tone.

He stayed silent again as he stared at the football posters that lined the backside of the bar. A mirror centered the posters and he stared at himself as if he was scared of the reflection.

"What the fuck is wrong with you right now?" she snapped again, Clay never looking away from himself in the mirror.

She chugged the rest of the wine in her glass before reaching for her purse. She pulled out her wallet and pulled out a $20 before slapping it on the counter and pushing it towards the bartender along with her glass.

"Do whatever the fuck you want Clay. I don't give a shit. But don't you dare criticize the things I want to do with my life. I'm sorry you aren't married to me but I can't do anything about it." She grabbed the straps to her bag and placed them on her shoulder. She turned in her seat and walked away from Clay, her heels clacking on the lopsided-wooden floor. She swung the door open and revealed the illuminated streets of what was supposedly California at night.

He continued to stare at himself in the mirror, the smile that once took place on his face nowhere to be found. He looked empty, tired; the eye bags on his face almost too much to bare. Unrecognizable to himself, and to the girl he infatuated himself with.

"You're a fucking idiot," some guy said beside him, chuckling with his friends alongside him. Clay's eyes shifted from the mirror behind the bar and to the three men that sat next to Vienna in the time she was still next to him.

"Mind your own fucking business," he said with a bit of a slur.

"Not my fault you pissed her off to the point she had to get loud enough to scold you. Entire bar heard it."

He stood up from his seat, walking up to the man and puffing his chest out. "Go fuck yourself."

"Sorry you can't keep a perfectly good woman," he chuckled, grabbing his beer bottle and putting the rim to his lips.

Clay curled his knuckles and extended his hand before landing a punch right to the guy's face. The scene went in slow motion as he watched the man stumble back onto the barstools, his friends catching him as he fell.

As he got back up, the man took his beer bottle and slammed it across Clay's face as his eyes closed to prepare for impact.

He woke up with the worst migraine of his life and his body sore.

As always, the time on the clock read 03:27. He read it with tears in his eyes, blurring his vision. He grabbed the sleeves of the jumper he was wearing and rubbed the tears off of his face.

He looked at his sleeves and saw old tears as well as a swipe of blood. His heart quickly stared pounding as he swiftly made his way into the bathroom and turned on the light.

The light blinded him as his eyes tried to adjust and as soon as they did, Clay noticed the gnarly gash that was right underneath his eyes.

He touched the cut with his finger and winced, the cut still being open and still bleeding.

"What the fuck?" he muttered quietly to himself.