High Society: The tales from Victory

Jacques Demarques [Part III] (Ch.6)

The smell of alcohol wafted through the air. The rotten floorboards were standard in this area. Alongside, broken chairs, lopsided stools, stained tables, and a counter that has seen better days. The rattata family living somewhere in the floorboards were awake now, so they started squeaking up a storm. A few individuals rested on the chairs and the bartender recounted soft and solemn jokes, while serving few drinks for the barely, in this region, legal teens.

"Jacques, Imma' head out. Ann is gonna worry 'bout us if we out late 'nough." One of the males grunted, leaping to their feet. He stumbled around and gave a soft laugh.

Jacques stared at his hands, then at the clock above. It's hands struck 11:17. Jacques raised his glass to his lips, irritated.

"I'm waiting for a person. An... old acquaintance." Jacques stared into his drink, his blue eyes reflected into murky liquid.

The male laughed as they exit, "Probably a prostitute."

Jacques laughed, "No. She's just an acquaintance. And no, not her."

A girl in the back scoffed, "You all are pervs."

Jacques laughed, "C'mon you know ya love me."

Another girl, tossing knives into an old dartboard, contributed, "I know you love him too, not to eavesdrop on your 'alone time' or your diary entries, Hannah." Her voice slurred faintly.

"You fuckers want a fight?!" Hannah growled.

.

Jacques laughs, "Feisty. Save it for tonight. "

"All of you are fucking dead to me."

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" The knife throwing girl quipped. Just like that, the room then filled with an awkward silence.

The flustered girl got to her feet and shuffled away, an awkward silence drifted through the air, nobody daring to speak further. As she approached the door, Jacques shouted out to her, "If you see a rich blonde boy send him here."

Hannah froze, looked at Jacques, timidly nodded and exits. Jacques took a sip of his drink, slammed it down, and squawked, "Too far Isabella."

"I know."

"Some people are sensitive about that stuff."

"Aren't we all?"

"... fair."

The girl with knives, Isabella, throws her last one, dead center. She wandered over to the board and dug the blades out.

"How's work been Isa?"

"Butchery is fine. Pays well enough."

"That's good... good."

Jacques watched, she was only clad in a crop top, Jean shorts, and boots. He sighed, getting to his feet, taking off his beige button up shirt.

He throws it over her shoulders, immediately she quipped, "Striping now won't get you laid."

"Ann will be pissed if you walk home without this."

"I'll be fine."

"No, you won't. Everyman you pass from here to Ann's will look at you sideways."

"That's just fine. You've been doing it for years."

"Go."

"Maybe I want to show a bit."

"Go."

"Maybe show you?"

"Go."

"You're no fun."