The Osborn Curse (Harry Osborn FanFiction)

Chapter thirty-two - Liquor

Harry walked down the avenue full of puddles. With each step he took hurt his heart more and more.

It was like someone stabbed him and poured acid right in the wound.

The sky was beginning to turn into a dark blue mess filled with black clouds. Harry felt lost, rejected, sad and angry at the same time.

The streets were covered by rain puddles and old used cigarettes. The smell of the cigarettes was overwhelming, but not as overwhelming as the smell of liquor and marijuana.

In every small alley was at least someone smoking, drinking or selling it.

Harry kept on walking as he tried to bare the pain he felt. A sign above a small store lit up the street.

'Happy Hour; Liquor store' It said. Harry walked into the store, like a fly flying towards a light.

The store was filled with hundreds of colourful bottles, all arranged on different shelves. There were about four people including Harry in the store.

Two male's and one female, all around their forties. They wore these ripped clothing and smelled like cigarettes.

The female looked disgusted at Harry. As if she didn't tolerated Harry, just because he look more wealthier than her.

Which of course was the truth, Harry was a billionaire, he could buy whatever he wanted to. He never had to worry about money, which caused him to live on his own world instead of reality.

The woman had to face her worst nightmare every day, she had to face reality. She probably had to save for clothes or liquor.

The woman had probably almost nothing to spend, she probably lived on the streets as well based on her clothing.

The two males were arguing about a bottle of cheap wine. The man on the left was wearing a brown trench coat with a black hat on top of his head.

The other man was wearing a grey hoodie with stains all over it, he also had a big bushy beard.

The man in the trench coat tried to talk calm to the other man, while the other man was yelling and cursing.

They both held a tight grip of the bottle and weren't planning on letting go off it.

Harry walked towards one of the shelves and grabbed a random bottle. He walked towards the cashier and slammed the bottle on the counter.

"That will be 50$" The cashier said. Harry reached for his wallet in the pockets of jacket. "Hey, aren't you a little young to buy liquor?" The cashier said.

Harry pulled out a hundred dollars and lied in on the counter. "How old are you?" The cashier asked.

Harry looked blankly at the man and blinked his eyes. "18" Harry said and he snatched the bottle of the counter.

"That's what they all say. ID, show it now!" The cashier said angry. "Listen I had a really bad day, I really would like to go now" Harry said.

"You're not leaving my shop until I see some ID!" The Cashier said threatening. Harry pulled his ID card out of his wallet and almost pushed it inside of the man's face.

"Where did you get that money?" The cashier said. Harry looked the man deeply in the eyes. "Where do you think I got it?" Harry asked daring. The cashier looked amazed at Harry.

"I don't..But you've probably stole it!" The man said and he grabbed Harry by his left hand. "What's wrong with you!?" Harry shouted.

"Little thief, coming into my shop with your filthy stolen money!" The man yelled.

The two men who were pulling on the liquor bottle stopped and looked at Harry, just like the woman with the ripped clothes.

"I'm calling the police!" The cashier said as he grabbed his phone with his other free hand. "Why are you calling the police, I haven't done anything!" Harry shouted.

"Where else did you get money!?" The cashier asked. "I'm the CEO of New York's biggest company!" Harry shouted out.

"Really? And what company would that be?" The cashier asked with a childish voice.

"Oscorp!" Harry yelled. The man looked straight at Harry, as if everything became clear now for him somehow.

"Very well" The cashier said and he grabbed the hundred dollars of the counter.

The man opened the register and grabbed fifty dollars. "Keep the change...You need it, you low life" Harry murdered. 

Harry gave the man a fake smile and walked out of the store.

The raining had stopped although the sky was still dark. Harry looked around, as he crossed the street.

He walked to an alley and lent against the wall. He looked at the liquor bottle, he didn't even know what he bought.

"Whiskey?...well...whatever..." Harry Said as he opened the bottle. The sound of the plastic being ripped of the bottle was like music into Harry's ear.

He held the bottle straight up and let the liquor slowly fall in his mouth. Harry felt the liquor slipping down his throat, it was warm and sizzling. He took four big sips before he stopped with drinking.

He took a deep breath and poured the liquor in his mouth again. The bottle was now half empty, just as his mind. Harry felt his body dazzling around, his throat felt like it was on fire.

Harry shook his head and dropped the bottle on the ground. The bottle broke into million small pieces with a thick gold like syrup dripping of the broken pieces.

The remaining liquor spattered all over his clothes and shoes, leaving a terrible liquor smell.

Harry's stomach turned around, just like his whole world. He didn't care that he just drank a half bottle of scotch.

He only cared about the fact that his one and true love just walked away. The liquor was just to fill the emptiness in his heart, to ease the pain, which was caused by Mary Jane.

He stepped carefully yet shaking over the glass and walked out of the alley. Harry went from one side to another with each step he took.

His head was spinning as he crossed the dark streets, towards his car.

Harry pulled the keys out of his pocket and looked hazy at it. He pressed on a button, the wrong one.

The Lambo's alarm went off, it was an immense loud sound and people all around looked irritated at Harry. He walked to the car and unlocked the door, which silenced the alarm instantly.

He got inside of the car and searched for the start button, it took it some time but managed to start the car.

He kicked roughly on the gas paddle and drove of to the Daily Bugle, because that's where the convention was being held.