Melaine

Chapter 23: Boy in the Alley

Melaine entered the dim lighted bar, sliding through glass door that immediately relieved her of the cold temperature of the outside and tingled her numbed limbs with the warmth of its atmosphere. The bar, out of usual, had been empty of its night customers except for a man in his office suit at the counter asking bartender for his drink. She took her seat on bar stool and crossed her arms over the counter looking at the liqueur bottles and their labels. The alcohols or liqueurs, a gin or tonic less to say, didn't make much difference to the girl since she didn't get the subtleties in psychology of drinks or preferred taste on the tongue. But then, there is bittersweet Negronis, or Jack Rose is thought to be a better choice over the apple vodka because of its richness in flavor for the people blessed with good taste buds. Martinez is sweeter than typical dry one; Martini with equal ratio of gin and vermouth or ultra dry by mere wisp of vermouth as Brett would often explain it as 'colourful art of drinks' to the girl acting as some great Freud of the taste. But Melaine hadn't been the one in the Freud of taste, any alcohol would work for the girl. Rather, she herself could become Freud of personalities, not in his psychoanalysis, but if compared to 'art of drinks' of how a subtlety of quantity can change the flavor, so does the psyche of man by increasing deep inches of sufferance and resentment. Night forbids the poor her for committing heresy by comparing delightful gin or vermouth to something dry as sufferance, she scoffed, but it's the tongue or throat of the drinker that burns not the of the bartender who serves it.

"Melaine", Brett snapped the girl out of her some lame Freudian philosophy of half truth. Though, Mr. Freud didn't make sense to Melaine for either he had been a fool enough to mouth aloud what human mind is afraid to admit or wise enough to disguise his own corruption, projecting himself, through his theories.

"Brett". She spoke forcing a smile back at the male.

"What has brought you here?" The male offered her his patent smile cleaning a glass mug with towel cloth.

"Thought I could buy myself a night." She spoke tapping her fingers on the counter and sighed in the tiredness. She could have retired for the night after staying for dinner at Darren's apartment but she needed to buy her mind a minute of peace and recompose herself before heading home.
"What would you like to have?" Brett put the mug on the counter and rolled his sleeves up.
"Surprise me with something good." Melaine moistened her mouth and shrugged her shoulders. It's better to ask him serve her anything good than ordering something out of her blind taste and get lectured from the bartender.

"Then I'll make sure to serve your dead taste buds." Melaine laughed at his words. Brett had always been the man of good humor and sarcasm beside being the professor of 'art of drinks'. The man started mixing gins and she looked carefully as if he had been a magician performing for her eyes.
"Here you go Miss. I present you Boulevardier." He placed her drink on the counter and the girl reached to hold her glass looking into the red liquid.
"It won't kill me?" Melaine chuckled arching her brow at Brett.
"I swear guarantee of your life on my 'Last word'."
"Now, I fear for my death."
"Drink it already woman." He sniggered as Melaine took sip of her drink closing her eyes for matter of few seconds.
"How did you find it?" Brett asked leaning over the counter.
"It's good." Melaine nodded and the male chuckled before tending to his next customer. She stopped midway of taking another sip and grimaced at her drink. She didn't know why she became weak in killing Darren; she could've finished him right then and there. But what good question it could be if she had murdered him without a foreplay? Darren had been a bigger fish in the pond and Melaine ultimately became his small fish, not to his prey, but in leading him straight to the hook. She took another sip of the red drink and wondered if colour had suited her mood, of pure bloodlust. Then what Darren revealed about Rohan afterwards didn't help her already troubled mind deprived of sound judgement. She remembered him right from their childhood, a distant memory of a boy with braces who fought back Alan's plush bear from Danny and asked the boy to play with him. Melaine didn't know that Rohan would come back to make things further complicated. If Alan didn't find himself attached to that young memory of Rohan, things would've been much easier otherwise according to the plan.
"Brett!" She called out for the male who's chattering with another woman asking for her taste.
"Yes, Mel?" The male shifted his attention towards her.