Escapism

~ 1 ~ Consume ~

~Crimson~

"Shut the fuck up will ya'!" 

A hoarse voice boomed through the venue. The glasses that were seated on shelves the decorated the walls behind the bar, seemed to rattle and clink in response. 

The young blonde rose a weary head from that of a bar, made from dark, lacquered oak. 

'what the fuck is he yelling about now..'

Pale hands rose to rub tired eyes, dry from crying out all their tears. Looking around the sun was leaking through broken, frosted glass. How long had he been asleep? Who cares. 

Kaveh was thirsty.

"Excuse me." Kaveh's voice was soft, deep, from waking up. Crimson eyes watching meticulously, as the bartender was serving, what seemed to be the source of the yelling earlier. 

"Fuck off I've had enough for today! It'd fucking three in the afternoon and you're telling me I've had enough! I just got here!"

'Three? already..?'

Kaveh thought.

"Sir, I have had enough of your attitude. Either you escort yourself out or I call in hired muscle. Your call." The seriousness in the bartenders tone was one he had heard many a time before, for, unlike Kaveh, those who suffer from chronic thirst tend to get violent, when someone thinks they've had their fill. 

Of course, the man backs down and falls silent, skulking his way off the premises, not without slamming the door on the way out however. With a solemn sigh, the bar tender turns his head to see a now conscious Kaveh, a weak smile appearing on his lips.

"I see sleeping beauty is awake. Are you okay? I was almost about to get you medical attention, you haven't eaten and you were out longer than normal this time.." concern laced his tone,  the dark haired man walking over to the young man and taking his weight to the countertop.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me. Just tired. And thirsty." Kaveh's hands now rested upon the water stained countertop, fiddling with pale boney fingers. Intertwined, his thumbs moved against each other, the pad of the left rubbing the nail on the right. His eyes however, looked deep into that of the bar tenders. Each iris was a beautiful, rich shade of crimson, messy blonde locks that tempered to a mousey brown at the ends, now only kept back by the means of a few red bobby pins. 

How could the bartender say no.

"Kaveh.. I don't like serving you when you're like this." The man said on an exhaling breath.

"Why not?"

"Somehow, you're worse than the drunks that yell."

"What's that supposed to mean!" Kaveh exclaimed.

"I don't mean it the way you think I do. I mean-"

"What? just spit it out already."

"You.. you seem to be content, with destroying yourself, I mean. I don't like to pry into the life of my patrons, but Kaveh, from the years you've been coming in here, almost three now, and how lovely you've been to myself and others, you shouldn't be here wasting your days with cheap poison listening to half assed soccer games and sleeping at a bar on a stool." The bartenders eyes looked up from the glass he was now polishing, to meet Kavehs.

Kavehs chest suddenly felt heavy, and his breath caught in his throat, an audible gasp escaping chapped lips. 

"I appreciate the concern, but what I do has nothing to do with you. This is all I have left other than guilt. So if you don't mind, can I please have a bottle and I'll be on my way." Kaveh's tone was empty, numb, nothing was really meant by those words but..