The Deal

Part II-Thirty-Nine-Jabar

            ELEVEN MONTHS EARLIER

Nobody knows how exhausted I truly am right now. Working in this town ain't easy. I really mean it, though. On a nice, cool night like this, my chick-magnet ability kicks in pretty well. Not this time. I can feel the bags under my eyes. What's more disturbing is the activity I've been doing that's drained me. The kind of people I've been helping. Especially what I'm about to do tonight.

"Here's your second bottle of beer," I say to the young, beautiful miss with the long, dark hair. "Uh...Filinne, right?"

"Yes! You remember my name," Filinne voices out with satisfaction in her voice. "Do you know how annoying people can be, Jabar? They act as if my name is so foreign and hard to pronounce. Especially the people on set." Oh, damn. Here we go. She chugs down the beer bottle like it's water. This chick does not drink her booze like a nineteen-year-old should. "Argh! I mean like, it's not as if I chose to have the name, anyway. People, man. We're so complicated." She chugs the beer again. "This is some good shit. You know the only two things that make me happy in life right now?"

"Drinking and partying?"

Filinne snorts. "What am I? A teenager? One; working on set with Bernadette Amara! And two, talking to you, Jabar. Because you're such an awesome sweet guy."

I shake my head. "Lady. You barely know me."

"Aw, come on. Hey, you know what's weird? I've been coming to your bar for a few years and no one asks me for a damn autograph. It's not like I'm unrecognizable and I'm not wearing any disguise! Like, hello? How can you not recognize Lil' Mercy from Bad Habits? I'm Bernadette's co-star!"

I'm way too tired to tell her the fact; her character on the show's not very likable and she's just not that popular. It'll only prolong our conversation.

"Don't worry. You'll be famous one day. Hey, why don't you go play Pong? There's a nice boy over there staring at you." I almost add age-appropriate.

"Ooh. Okay. I'll be doing my sexy poses so that you can watch."

"Oh, I'll be watching." Like Hell. As soon as she sprints away, I feel I can finally breathe again.

"Thank you so much for that," Bernadette says as she takes her usual seat. Today, she's decided not to wear her ridiculous disguise because, at this hour, there are very few customers. The ones here are almost all senior citizens and I doubt they tune in to Netflix to watch some annoying modern-day sitcom. "She's a real-life nightmare, I tell you."

"She ain't that bad, love."

"Eish. Please. I swear it's a living nightmare. She and her fucking selfies every fucking day. I wonder how you can maintain your sanity while having a conversation with her."

I scoff as I clean a couple of glasses next to me. "She's one of your hardcore fans. You know how much power you have? Someone with that much obsession with you? You could use her to do your bidding."

"Ugh. Whatever. She's a creep. Just like that fucking assistant director Khosa, who Yvonne doesn't want to fire. Just like all the male co-stars and every other crazy fan who tells me how much Aneska played a huge part in their childhood. You know what's funny? I still can't remember that girl's name. I mean, my child co-stars are the most notoriously unbearable delinquents on-set, but I still remember their names. Say, why do you keep on rejecting her, Jabar?"

I flick my gaze into those pretty, hazel dark eyes of hers. Eyes that show me all the pain she goes through. "She just turned nineteen. I only do mature."

Bernadette nods as she rests her chin on her knuckles; her elbow on the counter. "Give me my usual. Gin and tonic."

"Nah-ah. Graduated from booze, remember?"