Falling For You || T.Holland

01| Downtown

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The bell clanged against the door as you made your way into a dimly lit street-side pub.

The frigid London air lofted into the once cozy atmosphere, sweeping your hair violently over your shoulders even though you attempted to keep it at bay. You sighed deeply, making sure the door closed behind you.

Frustrated, cold, and grumpy—was your mood. You were a usually timid and shy girl, but right then it took all of your willpower to not slam the door and vigorously demand the bartender to pour you four vodka shots. Nothing was going your way. Your usual Friday night for as far as you were concerned.

You slipped out of your coat and hung it up on the rack, knowing you would need to down a couple of shots if you were going to survive the night.

"Aye sweetheart." The bartender glanced your way, gesturing for you to sit down and get comfortable.

"Evening." You acknowledged. "I'd like two shots of gin please, and rum with coke.

He raised his eyebrows and nodded, even a stranger could sense your foul mood. Or maybe that was because it came with a bartenders job description, knowing when and when not to bother someone. "Everything alright miss?"

"I'm okay." You rubbed her eyes in discomfort. "Just some college drama that I'd like to stay out of."

The bartender was most likely wondering why you chose to stop into his bar. The college bars were a couple blocks north, a surpassingly far walk from this facility.

"You got a ride home?" He asked, sliding you two shots filled to the rim. You stared down at them and grinned sheepishly. This would definitely help you forget, sooner rather than later.

"Yeah." You sighed, watching him mix the rest of your order. "I'll take an Uber."

"Sounds fine with me." He set the glass in front of you. "It's getting pretty late so I'm going to clean up a bit, I'll leave you be. If you need anything just holler."

"Thanks." You smiled, bringing the liquor to your lips and tilting your head back.

Visiting local and less trafficked bars like this one was a habit you found yourself regularly in. It was a great way to get wasted while not having to interact with your peers. It was also a great way of avoiding any temptations that came with following and getting drunk with a group of college boys.

This place was quiet. You could nurse your drinks in peace and leave without feeling guilty of ignoring people. The vibe was always low key, and the older Victorian architecture was something that pleased your eyes. Smooth wooden bars and chairs with cushioned stools, you might have to become a regular customer.

Your attention turned to the football match replaying from earlier in the evening. But your mind could not focus, it was racing with all the responsibilities you were temporarily avoiding.

You groaned and took the second shot of gin, this one hitting you a lot harder than the first. You quickly held the mixed drink to your lips in attempts to chase the shot down easier. The coke settled your stomach.

You held the glass by your fingertips, and swirled the ice around for amusement. You felt like you were in a trance, sitting in a pub all alone. You could not help but feel that something important in your life was missing.

It was midnight, and the bar was pretty much empty except for a group of rowdy men in a back booth. The stereotypical British night was unfolding around you. The same old and boring routine.

An evening like this was never going to be fun if you didnt drown yourself in booze. The thought caused sadness and self pity to seep into your mind.