Secrets of an outcast

Obscurity

At 5 o clock on the dot I had finally decided to call it a day, all I wanted to do was to retire into the solace of my home.

On my way down to the reception I noticed Stacey had already left, at first I presumed she was just running errands or getting another drink because she wasn't supposed to finish until 6, but then I noticed her stuff was gone too. I was curious as to why she had gone so acting upon this I spoke to Jared who was staring intently a bottle of water as if he was trying to understand why it was there.

"Jared?"

He jumped up out of his chair as if he had just been pulled out of sleep.

"Yes, sir?" he responded, flustered.

"You wouldn't happen to know where Stacey is would you?" I asked casually as I could manage.

"Yes, A man came down here not too long ago, claimed there was something he needed to attend to with her assistance and it was very urgent that she went with him."

"You didn't feel the need to consult me first?" I asked, slightly offended that he took this course of action without my assistance.

"well I didn't think that it really mattered, I knew how busy you were and Stacey wasn't too occupied."

I was perplexed beyond belief; she kept making all of these disappearances and appearances without any explanation whatsoever and now she flings this in my direction.

"Do you need a lift home sir?" Jared pulled me out of my musing.

"Sorry, but yes I do. I promise I will buy a car" I apologized.

"Not a problem at all Sir."

With nothing more to say ,we left.

"Thanks again for this, Jared." He nodded his head in acknowledgement and drove out into the road after I had made it through the door I noticed that i had a small blaze of a headache in the back of my head.

I'm going to drink it off, and get some fresh air.

Without a second thought I dropped my briefcase, slid on another jacket and headed out into the fading afternoon light.

My shoes clicked against the floor as i walked down a quiet, and not to mention badly lit, street.

As I walked into deeper into the swarming town I saw groups of people heading into various shops, I was headed into a well known bar called The White Rose.

I pushed the door that lead into the bar and it moved with a familiar creaking sound. My father took me here first on my 18th birthday. It was a memorable experience because 2 men had got into a fight with the male bartender for not serving them as they had already drank too much and as they tried to take the alcohol with force, the bartender put out his cigarette in one of their eyes. Funnily enough, nobody ever saw the bartender again after that. He put the place up for sale and that was that.

"Hello, Sir what can I get you" The bartender asked.

She had a very thin, yet curvy, body, that was covered only by a rather revealing red dress and matching shoes. Her hair was a bright blonde-almost white- and her brown eyes assessed me steadily.

"Just a glass of Cava prestige, medium dry please." I requested.

"Of course...hang on I recognize you! You're Justin Cooper aren't you?" She gushed.

"Yes, that's correct." I mumbled.

"Wow! It's an honour to meet you, I'm Rosanne" She flashed her gleaming white teeth in a grin that almost resembled a grimace.

"Thank you." I said straightforwardly, ignoring her name.

Without another word she sauntered back over to the back of the bar, all hips-swaying-hair-swinging in what I alleged was an attempt to impress me. I watched as she opened the wine bottle and poured it haphazardly into a glass.

"Here you are, anything else I can get you?" She leant on her elbows with her head in her palm and gazed into my eyes for a little too long "anything at all?"

"No that's perfect, thanks" I said dismissively before handing her a £10 note. "Keep the change"

"Just let me know if you want anything else." She beamed and then turned to wait on a man who was sitting two seats down from me.

The man was large,He had oil black hair that was greased into a slick back do, his eyes were a hazy brown -closer to black- ,in them I could see secrets and obscurity, they assessed me with pure, undiluted hatred.

I was tempted to leave my drink and vacate the bar, but something made me stay. Possibly curiosity or insanity.

This man didn't simply look unsafe, he looked lethal and almost as if he was ready to spring at me with a dagger.

Acting blasé, I continued to drink my wine, making sure I didn't lose my composure and show my true fear.I allowed my eyes to wonder to him for the briefest of moments and I took in his apparel.

His torso was draped in a black leather biker jacket that had noticeably seen better days, underneath it he was covered with a plain white and stained T-shirt.

His trousers had studs decorating the pockets; they looked sharp enough to pierce skin.

Maybe that was their intention.

OK that's enough I thought to myself you're just letting your imagination get carried away.

I turned my eyes away from him, not wanting to see anymore, and I noticed my hand was trembling slightly, which made the wine in my glass flutter round in little dancing ripples.

I still continued to try and keep a confident, fearless poise but deciding enough was enough I set my glass down, and walked back out through the door.