To Fight Back, To Change

Chapter 19: Who Knew Bars Were Fun?

BADABA-BA-BA-BAAAM! I finaly uploaded. Sorry for the cliffhanger, i was going to write more but the first part of the chapter was longer than i expected and i thought hey, why not. I will upload the next one much sooner becasue i also completely hate cliffhangers. :)

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My teeth grinded against each other and I clenched my hands painfully tight, anything to focus on but the place I’m in. It was Saturday Night Fever in the bar. You got the drunken idiots sitting, slumped just about everywhere, even the suspiciously wet floor. The crazy jealous women who drip over their men and spring like a coil over anyone that enters their ‘territory’ and then the laughers -screeching giggles that clang against my ears and make a dog want to howl. I tend to stay away from people when I can, especially in close quarters.

Where I was now, is insane and stupid, I could crack and lash out in any second which would then cause unwanted attention that I really didn’t want to deal with. But been in the bar was like a whole marching parade, balloons and all,  thrown into the same 15 by 20 metre room with unlimited alcohol.

My eyes caught sight of a mess of oily brown hair, which was an achievement as it was against an ocean of its own hair –gelled, oily or not.

“Marco!” I called. But my voice was swept away by the crashing sounds of music. He was weaving his way towards the bar, looking perfectly at home. Probably was his home. I tried to imagine living here on a constant base and quickly forced the sad thought away and began planning how the hell I was going to get Marco out of the bar without too much trouble.

I found him sitting at the crowded bar, the crumpled back of his ACDC shirt facing me, apparently trying to hit on the tattooed chick next to him, who was obviously not interested in him but really the man standing behind her. Poor Marco, he’s the step to reach love, I thought sarcastically. As I managed to push some people out of my way so I could actually reach the bar Marco’s head whipped round and a colossal grin spread onto his face. Twisting his abdomen slightly, he opened his arms in a crooked welcoming gesture and waited for my turning one.

 I stared at him dumfounded. Did he really think I would hug him? Really? He must be drastically off his face. Marco seemed to have come to that realisation himself as he shrugged, dropped his hands and turned back to the alcohol, his smile not even faltering.  Knowing that there wouldn’t be any getting him out of here unless I made some…personal contact and squeezed into the one remaining red stool to his right.

“You cared to join me after all?” Marco laughed, chugging down another tequila shot. I snatched the drink out of his hand before it could go straight to his liver and said. “Bite me.”As I oh so elegantly put it.

His left eyebrow rose. I didn’t even know how he could do that cause I definitely couldn’t and it would come in handy  with my sarcasm, they would be best friends. “Kinky.” Were Marco’s next words.  I let have a small snarl on my lips to show my dislike at the gross comment and was about to reply when a hand tapped me on the shoulder.  Which, going with my good grace and manners I blatantly ignored. Probably another drunken asshole trying to get a score to add to his board of women.  The chances that that was going to be me was a nil in a thousand. Marco smirked when he saw the hand gesture and his eyebrow raised higher. If it went any further he wouldn’t have an eyebrow anymore, it would be floating in space.

“Cut the bloody smirk  or I’’ll rip it off of you.” I politely answered. A finger prodded into my back, but I still relented to not turn around. Gotta keep my eye on the goal - getting this soaked senile out of here. Marco grinned again, his hand inched towards the tequila I had snatched off of him only to be stopped in its track but my arm. “No more drinking Marco.” I said, like a older sister  telling a little brother to give a toy back. “Time to go.”