A Ghost Encounter: My Time with Simon "Ghost" Riley

Part Ninety-Four: Poking the Bear

Three days have passed and I've gotten no word from Simon: he hasn't shown up to my apartment, sent any texts, or made any calls.

After Simon left, after my shower, I unblocked Captain Price and Gaz to find a ludicrous amount of messages.

Price texted me yesterday asking, "What happened with Simon? He's brooding."

Like I care...that makes two of us.

I didn't respond to Price's text message.

The past three days have been miserable. I've felt even more down and any form of motivation I've had has gone out the window. I work five days out of the week at the library and called off "sick" the past three.

What have I been doing with my time? Nothing of importance or productivity. The days went like this: wake up, lay in bed, maybe eat something light, lay on the couch, read, sleep, and repeat.

6:45 PM

It's a Friday night, better not waste it. So for the first time in three days, I hop in the shower, brush my teeth and hair, and get dressed.

I put extra effort into getting ready: I curl my hair, do my makeup, and put on a tight black dress.

Where am I going? A bar right around the corner.

What are my intentions? To get belligerently drunk and have a good fuck.

As I grab my purse and my keys a recurring thought pops into my head: Simon.

He's all I've been able to think about since he returned. It's been keeping me up at night and it's exhausting.

He said he'd be back but will he really? Maybe he spoke with Price and changed his mind...whatever. I don't need him. I've managed just fine without him for over a year.

Well, maybe "just fine" is an overstatement but I think I deserve to take some comfort in my delusions.

I lock up my apartment and make the ten-minute walk to the bar.

I've become a regular here because it's the closest bar and the bartender has been giving me free drinks since I sucked him off a few months ago.

Entering the bar, I'm immediately hit with familiarity: the sounds, the smells, the people.

I make my way to the bar top, take a seat, and say to the bartender, "Hit me."

He smiles wide. "Ah, my favorite customer. What'll you have?"

"Surprise me," I say with utter boredom.

He turns around and starts making me a concoction of his choice. Handing me the drink he says, "It's been a few days. I've missed you."

I playfully roll my eyes. "Wish I could return the sentiment." Then I grab the glass and pour it down my throat.

An hour passes of me getting progressively more drunk; and sloppily so.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a man approach the bar. He takes one look at me and then takes the seat directly next to mine.

"Can I help you?" I ask rudely, giving the man an annoyed look.

He chuckles playfully, "Long night?" He raises his glass to toast mine.

"Long night." I clink my glass with his.

"I'm Brandon." He reaches his hand out to shake mine. "It's nice to meet you."

I let my gaze linger on his hand for a moment but then take it in mine and shake.