Nothing is, but what is not // John Shelby

I

John hated theatre. Still, he had to be there, it was a place where he was about to kill a man next week, because he was telling the police things he surely shouldn't tell. That's why the young Shelby spent his afternoon figuring out where the loge was, where this man was to appear and where he was to die. Exhausted just from looking at the place built for art that he couldn't care less about, John gladly joined Arthur in the pub to drink some London whiskey, which was as good as any.

Warm smoke from cigars and cigarettes hung in the air, dancing limply, and disappearing when someone walked by. The night was just starting, groups of people tired from the week full of work, were gathered just for one drink, or one drunken dance. They tried to act as if they never left their carefree lives, as if the Great War never happened. Door opened again, a group of girls entered the pub, giggling among themselves as if they weren't sure if they could even be here.

"You should go and have some fun, Johnny" Arthur's raspy voice broke through the music, when he handed his brother another glass of whiskey, he brought from the bar. John took the first, long sip, looking around with boredom on his face.

"Right now I am drinking whiskey with my bloody brother," he smirked, a soft chuckle escaped his lips "Isn't it fun enough?" he rolled his eyes, finishing his drink and putting an empty glass on the table. Despite what he said, John stood up, straightened his jacket, and went towards the bar, forgetting about his 'bloody brother'.

"Order something, sweetheart. On me" he leaned his elbows on the bar, standing next to one of the girls who just arrived a few minutes ago. She had freshly cut hair, it was something in between blonde and brown, a bit of smudged blush on her cheeks, and the sleeves of her shirt were wrinkled from rolling them up.

"Do I know you?" she lifted her brow, looking at him for a second or two, to finally say "Gin Fizz, please" to the bartender.

"John Shelby" he introduced himself, giving the barkeeper a banknote, also buying another whiskey for himself. A charming smirk appeared on his lips, when he looked back at the girl.

"Elizabeth."

"Lizzy?"

"Beth."

"Beth" he nodded, rising his glass in a silent toast. The girl waved at her friends, who were, of course, watching them, and then she took the drink that the bartender handed her. She smiled sweetly, but not really sincerely at John, and then simply decided to leave.

"Are you leaving a gentleman?" he asked, reaching for her arm, but she was already a step away.

"No gentleman meets women in the pubs like this one" she stated with amusement, drinking her Gin Fizz, that she got for free.

"No gentleman dances as well as I do" John winked at her, expecting giggles and red cheeks, but the girl only nodded, putting her glass on her friends' table.

"We'll see about that" she laughed, letting him take her hand and lead her to the crowded dance floor. He put his hand on her hip, the other one still holding her pale fingers.

He already knew that the usual course his evenings always turned, is not going to work in this case. However, he was not disappointed in the course of events. Short chuckles on Beth's lips as he spun her around in a dance, and her hot cheeks felt just as good. Probably because he already had three glasses of whiskey, which put him in the perfect mood, or because the next day the girl's face was the clearest memory of the evening. With each drink, the faces of every next girl merged into one.