Painful Love (MC fanfiction)

16 | Bars

WARNING: GETS SLIGHTLY SMUTTY (AGAIN) SO U KNOW THE DRILL. LOOK OUT FOR THE ~~~

MICHAEL'S POV

"One more round." I giggled to the bartender. He handed me two shot glasses. I downed them in a blink of an eye. "Whooooo!!"

"Hey, there." A girl said, walking up too close to me. Her boobs were basically out of her dress and her ass was barely even covered. "I want another drink.."

She winked and shot me a smirk. It was meant to be seductive, but she looked creepy as fuck.

"Then get one." I shrugged at her. I gave the bartender a nod and she prepared two more shot glasses. I grabbed both and downed them one after the other. She stared at me with her mouth agape. "You're wasting my time."

"You're supposed to be a gentleman and get me my drink!" She screamed in a whiney and bitchy voice.

"A gentleman, huh?" I chuckled. "A gentleman who's gonna fuck you senseless because you want me to, not even know your name, take advantage of you, get home, forget everything that ever happened between us and probably never see you again?"

"That can change." She said seductively. Then she snapped out of her act. She crossed her arms over her long-titted no-nippled boobs. "A gentleman always makes the woman their first priority."

"A woman I have never seen in my entire life to give her the sex she wants because she's a slut?" I asked.

"Ugh, you're such a douche." She rolled her eyes. Hey, I was the right one in this situation. She walked off, dropping her arms. Only a few steps far, she turned back to me. "And for the record, my name is Abigail, but you probably don't know about me."

...Abigail?

CALUM'S POV

"Abigail?" I spoke through the phone.

"What do you want?" She sighed, stressed. I heard booming music and could barely decipher what she said.

"Where are you?" I asked like a mother would a child over curfew.

"In The Bar. Having a drink, clearing my mind." She explained. "Taking a break from life."

"Look, I sent you to find Michael. Not get drunk." I pressed my temples.

"I know. Michael's here. I tried talking to him, but he doesn't even remember me. Why didn't you tell me he was such an asshole?!" She said in her bitchy voice. I've tortured myself enough, I don't understand why I called her.

"There's such a thing as oblivion, you know." I spoke sarcastically. "Michael's pretty stressed and he's really under pressure and pissed off right now, cut him some slack."

The shit that I've done with this fuck of a gun and I still defend him.

"Ugh, just tell me what you want!" She whined.

"What's he doing?" I asked.

"Drinking his ass off." She chuckled brattily.

"What's he drinking?" I sat up straight.

"Vodka, probably. It's clear. Hold on.... Yeah, it's vodka. The bartender is pouring his eigth double shot for the night." She said.

"Eight double shot of vodka?!" I screamed. He couldn't even handle one shot of vodka, and he's done sixteen of them?!

"Yeah, pretty much." She said, as if it didn't matter. "I talked to him but he was being super douchey, like, oh my God."

"I told you, he's very tired from all the shit being thrown at him. I'm pretty sure I'd do the same if I were in his shoes." I defended once again. It was just natural. It was in my blood. I always defend the ones I love. "Can you help me?"