The Victim ✓

01

1 year ago

I could feel the bass of the loud music blasting throughout the club. Clearly, the bottles of liquor on the shelves behind me could feel it too.

I bobbed lightly to the music as I took multiple requests for margaritas, whisky on ice and millions of other alcoholic and non-alcoholic alcoholic drinks.

The neon green and blue 'Club 24/7' sign complimented the lights flashing throughout the club. As a bartender, I had many customers: brazen, drunken women, flirty underage teenagers and handsy boisterous men. But there was one customer who caught my eye. He was a regular and visited the club at least thrice a week. He was undeniably good-looking, with his inky black hair and piercing green eyes.

Tonight, he was here and surprisingly sober, dressed in his usual business attire. He had been sitting at the counter, staring blankly into the sea of people. It was not until over an hour later, I heard him finally speak up.

"Five vodka shots please, put it on my tab."

I nodded, sliding them across the counter. That night, he downed over 15 shots of alcohol and was obviously drunk by the end of it. As my shift ended and I got ready to leave, I noticed him flopped over the counter at an awkward angle. He had passed out.

I went over and shook him, trying to gain any sign of life from him, but he remained unconscious. I sighed, patting him down and took out his wallet and phone. I found two emergency contacts and decided to call the first one. The line picked up after two rings.

"Hello?" a groggy male voice answered.

"Hi. I'm calling because..." I trailed off, sifting through his wallet for some sort of ID. "...Demetrius Wilson? He passed out after drinking and I don't think he has a way to get home."

I heard cursing from his end as he asked for my location.

"Club 24/7."

"Thank you. I hope I'm not asking for too much, but could you stay with him until I'm there?"

I hesitated. "Sure."

Hanging up, I glanced back over to Demetrius' unconscious form. I scoffed. Why drink so much if you know you can't hold your liquor?

Twenty minutes later, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to look at the brunette towering over my tiny frame.

"Are you the person that called?"

I nodded. He thanked me again and picked up his friend, throwing him over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing.

"By the way, I never got your name. I'll have to repay you on behalf of this idiot."

"It's Liana, and you don't need to repay me."

"I insist," he said frowning. "Can I at least have your phone number?"

I rattled off my phone number and left afterwards. I sighed not knowing if I would be able to go to work tomorrow. It had been a long night.

A/N: Psst... If you click that little star below it fills itself in. It's like magic. ;-)