Liquid Courage

Night 002

Unlike the nights I've been here before, I'm feeling a little better today. And this mood of mine is really unusual but it's nice to feel good sometimes. But no, I am not too happy to the point of singing and smiling like an idiot.

I bought some Margarita with me on my way to the rooftop. I am currenly riding the elevator and saw myself in the mirror inside. I realized I'm still wearing my corporate attire-a maroon longsleeve top and a black skirt, so much for defending my thesis.

When the elevator reached the 38th floor, I got off. Pushing the familiar metal door of the rooftop, I stepped inside and was greeted by the cold air.

The place is still the same. Spacious, dark and of course my favorite mosquitos are present. All is same except for one thing. It looks like I've got some company tonight.

For some reason, he's too focused on his drink that he did not even hear my entrance. He looks similar last night, still on his uniform and his beers. A lot of it, again.

"You didn't spend the night here, did you?" I asked as I walked towards his direction.

Finally, he noticed there's another being here aside from him. He looked at me and offered a small smile. "You're late, mate."

It's nine in the evening. I'm not late. He's just early.

I settled myself beside him. I removed the plastic and placed the bottle of margarita on the floor along with the champagne glass I saw from my unit. "I see you're liking it here."

"Yeah, and the mosquitos seem to like me too."

I laughed as he showed me his arm with mosquito bites. Well, I've already had my fair share of experience with those bites. And I already learned my lesson. I've stocked up a pretty decent amount of Off Lotion.

"Don't cry, my boy, you'll get used to it," I teased. I opened the bottle of Margarita and poured some on my glass. I shook the glass slightly to mix it up. I'm having it light tonight.

He smirked. And boy, it does look good on him. "And I thought margarita is for the weak?"

"Not tonight." I said as I emptied my glass. Apart from my usual beer, margarita does taste different. It's kinda sweet.

I didn't know what's up with me tonight, really. I seem so unsual. I know I've said it and I'll say it again because I'm not used to feeling okay. There were a lot of stars tonight, from my point of view, I see a little dipper on my left.

"Are you always up here?"

I nodded. "I practically live here, you know."

I poured another batch of margarita on my glass and offered him some. He declined by lifting up his beer. He tossed some chips on me-Boy Bawang. I opened it and I freaking love the taste. It's been years since I last ate this. I used to eat this everyday when I was young.

"So why were you here last night? Tired of the loud music on bars?"

He rose up the chips and poured some on his mouth, "Yeah, kinda. I needed a place to drink and thought of the rooftop. I hope it's okay for me to invade your space."

"Of course, as long as you'll bring beers and Boy Bawang, too." I winked.

He smiled and nodded at me. For some reason, I found myself looking at his eyes. They were brown, like I've seen last night. He's smiling, sure, but I know those eyes. I've seen those kinds of eyes a lot of times. Typical rich guy is lonely tonight.

Suddenly I remembered him calling me by my name last night. I've asked him about that before I left, but of course, I won't get a serious answer from a drunkard. Now that I'm looking at him, he does look familiar. Maybe I've seen him in the hallways, in the cafeteria or in the library.

I took another sip at my glass. This thing is too light for me, but whatever, I don't wanna get drunk. "You know my name, right?" I asked.

"Margaret Santua," he stated.

I'm pretty sure my brows are furrowed. He even knows me whole name. And I don't have a single idea who the fuck he is. "How did you know? Have we met before?"

He looked at his bottle. "You interviewed me before."

"I did?" I'm sure I'm pulling off a very confused face right now. I'm not drunk so I should remember it. I know I did a lot of interviews; I'm a writer in our university paper and a Mass Communication student as well. And I always remember the people I've interviewed and written a piece, maybe not the name, but I'll recognize the face.

"Last year. October," he answered.

I looked at his face hoping I would magically remember him. Oddly, I don't. "Are you sure that was me? 'Cause I don't remember you."

He chuckled. "You're the first to forget this handsome face."

"I knew you have that arrogant air in you. Tsk. I expected better." I playfully shook my head in disapproval.

"You mean 'handsome air'?" he asked.

"Oh, please."

He looked at me and wiggled his brows. At first I glared at him but he's too funny to ignore so in the end, we found ourselves laughing at his joke. He's got this really manly laugh that I strangely liked. Fuck. I liked his laugh? I must be drunk and out of my mind.

I stretched my legs straight. I've been sitting for too long, it's stinging a little. "But seriously, I did an interview with you?"

"Mr. Biology 2017."

As soon as what he said registered on my mind, something sparked on my memory. I did interview him last year when he won the title. And now that I think of it, I quite know him. He got really popular in the university because of that, and well, he's got the looks and the brains too.

"You remember me now?" he asked while opening another bottle of beer. I noticed it's his fourth bottle now. I looked at my margarita and it's almost empty now. I really need to slow down my drinking sometimes.

I snatched another pack of boy bawang from him and started eating. "Yeah. You became so popular that I hated hearing your name. You're all they talk about."

He looked at me and smiled. "And whose fault was that? Someone wrote an amazing article about me."

"I knew I shouldn't have written that. Now, I have to endure your arrogant air."

"I thought we agreed with 'handsome air'?"

And now, my margarita is all gone. It's so light I do not even feel tipsy. He noticed I'm done with my drinks so he tried offering me his beer. I declined and I was proud to myself because I managed to say no to free beer.

"What's up with your margarita tonight?"

I shrugged, even I do not know. "Nothing...I just wanted it light."

He finished off his beer, putting the empty bottle on the floor. "At least one of us has it light tonight."

For someone so popular, incredibly rich, and fine-handsome...he looks lonely. I should have known. Even with all the money in the world, we can't buy happiness. And now matter how many friends you've got, you're not exempted from feeling lonely.

To be continued...