Confidant & Playlist

2. Come Here

A year and a half later: Late June 2008

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Looking over the bar, Delancy and I start scoping as we do every night. She begins her search for me as I start mine for her.

"How about that one," Delancy points a guy sitting at the bar nursing a single glass. His head is hung, covered in a mess of dark thick curls. He looks up to take a sip from his glass and I catch a glimpse of his face. He looks especially down, depressed almost. His brown eyes are glazed over and lined in red, I can see the outlines of his jawbones in his cheeks.

"An option."

Delancy looks up again taking a sip of her own drink. "He's kinda short but...cute." She nudges me. "He looks like he could use some cheering up." She smirks nudging me.

"Alright," I look at him once more. I look over my outfit once and adjust my hair beneath my snapback. Then I make my way over to him. Up close he's cuter than the distance gave him credit for. He's wearing a plain grey tee shirt with dark blue jeans, classic converse, and a leather jacket. His tanned complexion seems to be the result of a combination of heritage and sun; It's warm and inviting though his current state isn't. Beneath is small nose is a set of full lips that sit straight, no evidence of a smirk nor a smile.

I take a seat on the stool beside him. His eyes flicker to me for less than a second before he turns back to his glass. "Hey," I say letting my word hang between us. "What you drinkin'?" I gesture toward his glass.

"Whiskey and cream soda ," he says finally. His voice coming forth in alcohol laced slurs. It's the type of voice you would expect from a 'TV personality'.

"Hey Raffi," I call to the bartender. "Get me what he's having."

"You got it Lace," he says with a smile. He gets to work preparing my drink. I direct my attention back to the guy.

"You got a name?"

"Bruno." Raffi sets my drink down and I nod to him. I bring the glass to my lips.

"Lacey," I set the glass down on the counter, the whiskey tingles and the soda smooths it down my throat. "You've got good taste."

"Thanks," he says still not paying much attention to me.

"So what's your problem? Your girl dump you or something?" To my surprise he turns to me.

"Yeah actually," he takes a longer sip, clearing his throat as the liquid makes it's way down. "She left me for another man."

"Ooo rough, the same thing happened to me," I say watching him.

"You?" he asks in disbelief.

"Yeah, he cheated on me first. I caught him too. He thought he could hide her from me in my own place."

"Shit," He looks at me full on. "That's fucked up."

"He got what was coming to him." I say smirking as I take another sip of my drink. I scoot closer to him. "Well, you look like you could use some cheering up," I knock back the remainder of my drink and I feel his eyes on me, looking over nearly every inch. I step off my stool and take his hand pulling him to his feet. "Come dance with me." I flash a mischievous smile and lay on the half-open-lid-look. He gratefully agrees, nodding as he moves to finish his drink. He sets some money on the counter and lets me take him to the dance floor. As we reach the center I let go of his hand, turn to him and begin dancing, moving to the smooth R&B music pulsing through the packed room. He stands still for a few minutes as other people bump into us. I nudge him. "Come on, you have to know how to dance." He nods his head to the music and starts to sing the lyrics. "Tell you what, I know the DJ, got any requests?" He leans in close and I can smell the lightest hint of Old Spice on his clothes, and whiskey on his breath; he whispers a familiar MJ song in my ear. "You got it." I request his song and return to the center of the floor where I left him.