What Went Unsaid

Bottoms Up

As the city came into view, so did the flooding. The streets were overwhelmed with violent currents and splashing waves. The city was completely dark, like someone pulled the covers over it. Even the street lights were dead. However, through the storm, a block of light revealed itself. Like a moth, Rhett dragged himself towards it.

By the time he reached the entrance, his shoes were soaked and he was splattered with mud. He tried to peer up, but his eyes were only met with water. Desperate for an escape, he reached his shaky fingers out towards the door, and secured his grip on the sleek metal handle. He turned the handle and pushed forward, but the door didn't budge. A streak of lightning flashed from behind, and even though it seemed impossible, the wind picked up still. The rain drowned his eyes. He planted his hand on the door and pushed with all his strength, and finally, the door creaked open.

Inside was a huge crowd of people. They flooded the bar, just like the streets. Rhett saw many people, not just adults. The lower floor of the bar was packed with children, clinging to their parents. Seemed like everyone seeked comfort, no matter what it took. The scene must have been traumatizing, all the drunken adults, soaked not just in rain. All the screaming whenever thunder knocked. Even some roughhousing. If you thought about it, the kids were acting more mature than the adults.

Rhett decided to make his way towards the upper level, where he hoped people were more civilized. The spiral stairs creaked as his foot hit them. The screaming slowly muffled as he continued.

The air in the upper level was slightly murky, probably due to the storm. It was quieter, although that seemed to be because everyone was all drunk beyond belief. Rhett took a seat at the bar, and cradled his head in his hands. A few moments later, the bartender placed a drink in front of him. It had an amber color and the top was an opaque white. He tried to motion that he didn't want it, but the bartender simply moved on to take care of one of the few people who could still sit up straight.

Rhett looked down into his drink, and a ripple appeared. He forced a laugh as he thought, 'At least I won't have to shower for a while."

He tried to wring his clothes out, but only created murky puddles on the floor, and wrinkles in his shirt. In the corner, he heard a giggle and glanced over to see someone, laying on their stomach, face planted in the floorboard. Another created a loud crash as they stumbled over some empty cups. A low rumble sounded from outside, followed by dull screams and gasps.

Rhett glanced back down at his drink, and in a voice so feeble, it couldn't break a china set, "Bottoms up."

***

Shelter, shelter, shelter. The only thing on Shane's mind. He cut through menacing alleyways, jumped fences, and dashed through the hopeless city. At one point, he stopped dead in his tracks and smacked his back. When his fingers met wet metal, he finally exhaled, and continued.

Thanks to his night hunting, Shane's eyes were trained for the dark. He peered up to a lightpost, curious as to why it was off. He noticed small wires dangling from the top. The storm had ripped off all of the solar panels! 

He took off running again, feeling stupid for not checking the weather before heading out. There was no way he could make it back home now. As he rounded a corner, his shoelace darted in front of him and he crashed into the river that made up the sidewalk. As he pushed himself up, he felt a sharp pain run up his arm. Shane looked down at his forearm and was appalled when he saw a slight dip in his arm. The limb started to turn into a red soaked sponge, although, the rain helped wash it away. Luckily, it wasn't life-threatening, nor would it draw attention, so, grasping his arm, Shane looked up.

Standing before him was a beautiful looking bar. Its lights shone brighter than the lightning strikes. Shane quickly climbed up the stairs and barged through the door. 

He found comfort in what was inside. He almost didn't feel like he was soaked to the bone and shivering. In one corner, kids were cuddled with their (drunk) parents like teddy bears. In another corner, adults were chugging their beer, surrounded by a castle of glass cups. There were people on their feet, and people with their feet in the air. Everywhere was beautiful chaos.

Shane maneuvered his way through the maze of people and plopped down into one of the leather bar stools. He motioned for the bartender, but he just ignored him, too occupied in cleaning cups to care.

A scratchy voice called out, "You need something?"

Shane's head swiveled around to meet the man who spoke. He was large and had scrappy, unkempt gray hair and a slight, uneven stubble on his chin. His eyes seemed to follow butterflies around the room, never fully facing Shane.

"Upstairs." He said before his voice drowned back into the thunderous crowd.

Shane's eyes scanned the room until they were halted by the discovery of a door. He again pushed his way through the bar, constantly almost stepping on people. Making it to the door felt like being rescued from drowning.

Shane trudged up the spiral staircase, skipping every other one. Dust particles danced around him, tickling his nose. When he made it to the top, he was met with a dark, damp feeling room. He almost turned around to return to the downstairs environment, but something caught his eye. Of all the people sprawled out on the ground - occasionally giggling - there was one person sitting at the bar. His bright blond hair seemed to light up the gloomy atmosphere. 

Shane gently walked to the blond's neighboring stool and plopped down. He waved at the bartender and they immediately got to work. The blond tried to glance over at him without him knowing, but Shane's hunting instincts gave him away. Nonetheless, he carried on, acting like he wasn't aware of the skeptical eyes.

The bartender slid a mug full of a beautiful golden liquid towards him and he expertly caught it before it could slide off the counter. Shane immediately took a swig and slammed it back down. He let the alcohol linger on his taste buds as he sighed. He turned to face the blond and revealed his hand, "Shane."

The man peered hesitantly at his hand, but he reached out and grasped Shane's, "Rhett."