BTS IMAGINES < discontinued

Be Mine- Min Yoongi

I sat at the edge of the bar, unamused by what seemed to be a fight erupting in the crowd behind me.

I sat beside a older lady in fishnets and quite a skimpy dress  for someone her age (but hey, I wasn't one to judge), a man in a green plaid shirt who had a major sweaty plumbers crack, and a guy with glasses who had a black turtle neck on under a long black coat.

I was honestly more interested in plumber crack guy who was drunk telling his tragic life story to the lady in the fishnets.

I listened to his choked sobs and sad mumbling and saw how the lady would once in a while comfort him by a gentle pat to the back or saying something barely audible to him.

Quite a strange scene we had here.

This was not the scene that I would usually want to be caught up in.

It was a messy bar with even messier people, but it served me as some kind of unholy reliever to me.

I took another swig of the liquor which was in the glass cup in front of me, squeezing my eyes shut at the horrid taste.

It tasted bad, but anything to relieve the pain of life sounded good right now.

"There are a lot of weird people out tonight, huh?"

I turned to my right to see that the guy with glasses had moved from one chair over to the one right next to mine.

I looked at him, unamused, and turned back forward to look at my cup. I ran my finger around the top, I know, completely unsanitary right? I just needed something to do.

The guy breathily laughed and drank whatever he was having.

"I see that you aren't in the mood for talking." He set his cup down and I saw that it was a crystal wine glass filled with some deep red wine.

This bar was possibly the shittiest around and I knew for a fact that they didn't have wine.

"What brings you here in the first place? Or are you amongst the 'weird' people?" He pushed more questions at me.

I sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to stop. I admired his persistence.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm weird too." I admitted. "I'm just tired and needed something."

"I see," he hummed.

"What brings you here, 'Mr. I bring my own wine to shitty bars'?" I asked, making up the dumbest nickname known to man.

I wasn't feeling tipsy at all, but who knows? That nickname made me question my soberness.

"How did you know that I brought my own wine?" He asked, surprised.

I smiled and looked over to him in his lightly flustered state.

"I come here all the time dummy. I know that this place is too cheap for actual class."

He stared back at me.

"Why are you here then? You seem to have class."

I snorted at his comment. "I come here because I'm poor and I need a drink."

His sharp eyes remained on me, making me shift in my seat a little. I was quite uncomfortable and flustered with his hard gaze right on me, tracing every inch of my body.