When We Met

two

|Martin|

"Chug it down, ladies." I say, winking at the two girls in front of me.

One of them has bright, auburn hair that trails down her front and reaches her waist. The other one has a cropped bob cut, the black in them framing her face.

Miss Auburn leans against the bar and puts a hand on my shoulder in a very seductive manner, and inches closer.

Had it been someone else, someone a little less daring, I would've held her close to me.

"I'm free tonight." She whispers sensually, her alcohol-reeked breath fanning my face. "What about you, hot man?"

I raise an eyebrow at her, wondering if she's highly drunk.

"Come on, man. Show me what you've got." Her hand fits around my neck and I get my cue.

"I think your friend is looking for you, miss." I gently push her away, giving her my answer.

She gives me a dirty look and then marches off to nowhere, disappearing amongst the crowd.

I shake my head in disbelief and turn around, facing the copious amounts of alcohol bottles and thin stand glasses.

Sometimes I think about popping one open and emptying it in a second. The only thing is that the alcohol never gets to me.

"How do you do it, Lan?" A familiar female voice calls out for me.

I turn my head a little to find my twin sister, Deborah, studying me.

Not again, please.

"What can I get you, sister?" I ask, pulling out a glass from its stand and shaking a bottle of soda.

"Don't change the topic, moron. I'm done for the night anyway." She places her hands firmly against the bar slab and pushes herself onto it.

There is a cigarette roll stuck between her fingers, and her eyes are scanning the crowd for something. Or rather, someone.

She takes a drag of the silent killer and then lets out a ring of smoke, finding it amusing.

"Why do you smoke, Deb? Even after knowing how it killed dad." I sit down beside her, trying to ignore the unpleasant odour of the cigarette.

"It makes me feel alive." She lets out a growl and then starts laughing.

"Ironic."

"Forget about me for a while, and tell me about you. Why did you turn down that girl?"

"She wasn't much of a turn on. Not my type." I say honestly.

"Seriously, Dylan? You think I'm a fucking blind-head? I know that every girl is your type."

"Not every girl." I correct her.

"Oh really? Humour me."

"Go find some other lad who might be good at humouring you. Or do you want me to take you home? I'm done with my shift anyway."

"Take me home, Lan. I want some rest."

"Noted. Just give me five minutes and I'll meet you near my car."

"Hey?" She gets hold of my wrist and I look at her confusedly. "I'll wait here only. I don't think I'll be left in one piece of I go out alone."

"Is everything alright?"

"Hopefully. But, James shithead has been trying to corner me since the evening. I don't want him to make his move right now."

"Stand behind the bar, Deb. I'll be right back in five minutes." I help her get to the other side of the slab and make her sit down far away from the crowd. She smiles reassuringly at me.

I've always been like an extra protective brother. It often annoys her and she ends up shouting profanities at me. But, I never stop. She's been with me since the day I was born, and is the only person who knows every single thing about me. I can't let her fool around much, right?

I pass the slip to Daniel and make sure that he fetches my pass. Working at a particularly famous club isn't anyone's piece of cake. Not mine, at the least.

As I step out of the room, the music deafens me to a point where I find standing still typically annoying. I've always loved music and dance. But not tonight.

I make a run for the bar and give out a sigh of relief as I find Deborah playing some weird game with the glasses.

"I'm done. Let's go." I announce, helping her stand still as she sways from left to right.

She nods her head obediently and soon, we successfully make a head for the door.

The cool breeze hits me and I feel my sister bite back the shiver. She had to wear a strapless dress tonight. Really smart.

I pull out my jacket and round it around her slim shoulders. She takes it thankfully and pushes her arms inside the sleeves.

"How the fuck do you not have a girlfriend?" She exclaims, giving me a side glance.

"I don't need one right now." I say, unlocking my car and opening the door of the passenger's seat for her.

I walk around the bonnet and position myself behind the wheel.

"Why not?" She asks, lowering the blasting volume of the stereo. I frown at her.

"Because you make the most of my excruciating headache. I don't want another chick to add on to the flavor."

The car whizzes past the almost empty streets. I push down the windows and let the furious wind slap me. Some more.

"I'll back out, if you want." She mutters slowly but I catch her words pretty easily.

"Don't say that again, Deb."

She shuts up and soon, little snores escape from her lips.

I laugh a little. She always was the one who snored, not me.

As I pull up in our driveway, the mist covers my sight. My sister always manages to make me think of a life in which I'd have a girl, other than her, to take care of.

I remember living that life a few years ago. But, I know I'm not up for a vivid, unpromising and doubtful relationship anytime soon.

I give out a sigh and get out of my car. Deborah is fast asleep in the passenger's seat. I don't know why she lets alcohol get to her so easily.

I scoop her up in my arms and carry her inside our shared apartment.

After dad's death, our mom ended up living with some other man. We both couldn't handle it and hence, clubbed our savings together to rent the flat. It's more like home now than ever.

I put Deb to her bed and fish out her death heels. Her toe nails are chipped and her ankles are red with dried blood.

I shake my head. Why she does this will always be a mystery to me.

Her face looks tired and devoid of colour. I pull the blanket up to her neck and turn on the air conditioner.

Shutting the door behind me, I head for my bedroom and put on the shower.

It takes me about seven seconds to get rid of my reeking clothes. I step inside the shower and let the water warm my body.

This is like a daily schedule. We're both so used to it that we've stopped complaining. Mom sends us money every month and we politely reject it every single time, feeling that she's let us down in some way.

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I get out of the bathroom and head for the almirah housing my clothes.

I pull out a rugged shirt and my pajamas and soon, I pass out on my bed.
***

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Love,
Angela :)