F²F

screwin'

The shit we be doin',
our folks call it screwin'
And it's a different type of fuckin'
that we be on
We both bad at trustin',
relationship's toxic

BEYONCÉ

I smiled hearing the loud music and different lights danced on my skin, i looked down at my empty shot glass, i hold it and lift my head to look at my private bartender. Shawn doesn't know that i was here in his club— in his private area, i tapped the marble counter under me with the glass and the bartender grab it from me to put another batch of alcohol

I waited and when her finally placed the glass down and immediately grabbed it and chugged the liquid—scrunching my face at the taste. I loft my index finger to tell me to give me another, he nodded and poured another drink on my glass and once again i chugged it,

"How many?" I asked, the bartender lift his head and hummed tapping his finger on his chin,

"17," he said

"Damn" i mumbled, i heard him chuckled and i sheepishly smiled

"Yeah that's a lot, im impressed that you still looked sober" i nodded,

"What's your name?" I couldn't see his name tag clearly because of the lights here, its dim but theres still some blinking lights with different colors

"Anghel" he said with latin accent making my eyebrow rose,

"Anghel? Like angel?" I asked with my eyebrow furrowed, he nodded still smiling

"That's beautiful..how long have you been working for my friend?" I asked, tapping my glass for him to pour my drink

"4 years" my eyes widen a little before it relax

"Wow, why i didn't see you here before though?"

"I worked downstairs" oh that's why i nodded my head and told him to pour on my glass again after i downed it,

That's 19" i laugh and chugged my glass again and placed it down, my head is spinning a little and my heart is beating a little too fast,

"I have a problem" i confess we're stranger so i kinda don't feel uncomfortable on telling him stuff, tapping my glass again, he looked at me before pouring the liquid on my glass,

"Big or small?" He asked placing the bottle beside him, "...big" i muttered bitterly and chugged the bitter liquid once again, and i heard him humm silently telling me to continue,

"I–i almost killed my friend and my ex who's my friend also friend with beat me up" his face scrunched up a little before he let out a smal 'oh' nodding his head,

"Damn that's why you got all that bruises and cut on yo face" he said, i laugh nodding my head,

"She did me good ain't she?" I asked, chuckling to myself. He nodded his head agreeing with me

"She did, why did you want to kill your friend?" He asked, curiosity laced his voice—confusion on his face

"I dont want to kill my friend...i-i just wasn't on my mind that day—im not thinking straight?" I whispered, my voice cracking as i feel the stinging on my eyes

"Have you thought of going on a therapy?" He asked, pouring me another drink, i nodded my head

"I've been in therapy for 3 years and i think it didn't help me" i said, scrunching my face at the thought

"You think? So you're not sure?" He said wtih a raised brow and i shrug,

"What made you go on therapy?" He asked, leaning on the bar, i can tell that there's a stool on his side because i saw his body got smaller, he probably took a sit