By Your Side? Always | ALWAYS #1

Chapter 32: Dylan Oakvan

NO ONE'S POINT OF VIEW
It was another night on Cincinnati, Ohio, the wind made most of the bar costumers keep their coats until they approached to the place. 'The Golden Bucket' they used to call the bar, not the most popular bar in the city, not the most elegant, but the one with the good alcohol and the pretty ladies and wealthy costumers. That night, a new bartender was serving drinks to the costumers, his dark brown hair was on a messy quiff that night, with his black shirt sleeves rolled up as he worked quickly on the costumers' drinks. He sigh a he left the whisky in front of one of his costumers, an old guy who according to all the story that he had told, he had been recently fired for screwing with the manager's wife.

-And tomorrow, I'll have to pick up my stuff- The costumer takes the drink and drinks all of it at once- You know, boy? You're a good listener.

-I'm just doing my job- The brunette guy replied without a smile looking at the alcohol while serving it to another guy.

-And you haven't told us your name yet- The whisky drinker points out asking for other drink at the same time, doing a hand sign.

-Name's Dylan- He looks at the drinker and serves the alcohol in front of him.

-That's a pretty boy name- The whisky costumer said screwing up the words because of the alcohol abuse.

-Excuse me? – Dylan frowns and serves the vodka to a blonde girl.

-I bet you have a girlfriend- The blonde girl interrupts the conversation a few costumers away from her and Dylan.

-Well, that's none of your business- Dylan replies to the blonde while doing his job.

-Well, someone's angry tonight- The bar manager entered the bar by the backdoor and patted Dylan's shoulder slightly.

-I finished my shift like an hour ago- Dylan sighs and leaves the cloth on the drawer.

-Yeah, I'm sorry that Marcus couldn't make it for tonight- The manager shrugs- You can leave now, go.

Dylan nods and leaves the bar jogging, as he grabbed the nearest taxi he could find, giving his apartment address and after 10 minutes, he arrived home, turning the door knob and entering the dark apartment, the only light turned on was the lamp by the small living room where, on the couch, Jean was laying, her black hair fell to her cheeks, covering her face.

-Dylan? – Jean's delicate voice was heard through the hallway, where Dylan was heading.

-Yeah it's me- He whispers and looks at the living room's clock.

2 am

(...)

Dylan entered to the office where the manager was, as the old man asked him to sit down and he did, with a neutral emotion on his eyes as always. The place was filled up with the rank smell of cigarettes and alcohol, like if  someone had soaked the room with a wine bottle all over the walls and furniture, but the potpourri and the old wood smell is what made this mixture disgusting, to the point of getting nauseas.

-So, Daniel- The manager started speaking.

-Dylan- He corrected.

-What? – The manager asked out of the blue.

-My name is Dylan- He said on a superb voice- I've been working here for two months, Antoine, you should've known my name already.

-Yeah whatever Dyl- The man started to grab several sheets of paper with printed words on them.

''Dyl''? -Dylan thought annoyed.

-So why am I here today? – Dylan leaned forward, bending his arms and leaning them against the iron desk.