Roses In Bars

Chapter I: A Crow's Bar

"Ugh."

I put my bag down the base of the bar stool, my face collapsing onto my hands as my long hair drooped onto the counter. My nose scrunched up as the familiar smell of alcohol permeated the area.

"Can I get you anything, miss...?" A gruff voice asked. I looked up at him, squinting. He was an elderly man, most likely in his 60's; wearing one of those old bartender suits from noire films. He was cleaning a shot glass quickly as he waited for my order.

"Felicia. And yes, I'd like a gin please," I replied. Remembering the name of one of those alcohol beverages dad used to drink.

"On the rocks?"

"Huh?" I tilt my head in confusion.

"I'm asking if you would like ice with your drink." The bartender explained, chuckling. My face went red in embarrassment. I should've gone to a coffee shop...

"Umm, yeah. Sure." I said.

The bartender nodded and turned back to get the drink I asked for, smoothly pouring it into a shot glass and adding an ice cube before smoothly passing it to me.

"Woah!" I caught the container clumsily, as a few drops of the gin spilled onto the bar counter.

"First time entering this sort of establishment miss Felicia?" The bartender made another drink to serve to another patron, earning their cheers as he slid the shot glasses flawlessly to their waiting hands.

"Yep," I replied with a nod, "I'm just looking for a place to unwind. This was the closest place I could find to my workplace."

"And where do you work?"

"Uhh, some corporate firm on James Street named Willy & Co. I'm an accountant there." I told the elderly bartender, before slapping a hand to my forehead. "Oh, sorry! I forgot to ask your name before we started doing story time. What's your name by the way?"

The old man let out an energetic chuckle as he fixed a few bottles on the rack.

"Barry, it's Barry, young lady."

"It's nice to meet you, Barry! I'm Felicia!"

"I know. You told me a few minutes ago." Barry chuckled as my cheeks were once again stained pink from forgetting.

"Uhhhh... I can't believe I'm so stressed out that I forgot basic manners." I groaned, slumping further onto the counter, the drink twirling in my hands.

"Rough day at work, I assume?" Barry asked.

"You can say that again, I can't believe I'm not dead yet. Deadlines everywhere, and I feel like it's just the beginning!" I complained, before gulping down the drink to calm my nerves. And then immediately coughing since the taste was so strong. Barry can only laugh once more at my expense.

"Ah, the little miss hasn't had her first taste in alcohol. You just turning 18?" Barry smirked, trying to provoke an answer from me, which was, annoyingly; working.

"Excuse you, I'm 26 years old! I work a white-collar job!" I whined.

"And you had your first taste of alcohol at the ripe age of 26. Congratulations, miss Felicia." Barry said as he lightly clapped his hands. To my horror, nearby customers raised their mugs and glasses to me and congratulated me too. This is insane, I just wanted to relax, not be the center of attention in a bar full of drunk people!

Then why did I go to a bar in the first place? My mind asked.

I didn't grace it with an answer.