Never close our eyes

Chapter 134- Guy Advice (part 2)

Adam's POV

"Yo Adam! Where ya goin'?" Tommy blocked my path and gripped my wrist.

I tried to break free from his clutch or even just go around him but, even though Tommy seems smaller compared to me, he's still a pretty sturdy guy. Especially when he's being annoyingly persistent.

"Let me go Tommy." I glared at him.

"You know, using your paranormal eye powers on me won't help." his eyebrows raised.

"Just let me go, Tommy!" I snatched my hand away successfully.

"Give this to Mandy once the party's done." I gave him the keys to my car.

I mean, I maybe pretty mad at Mandy right now. But like I said, I don't ever wanna hurt her. And leaving her here at the party with no source of transportation is definitely one way.

"But-" Tommy tried to stop me again.

But I pushed him out of my way and started to walk away.

I just kept walking.

I walked and walked endlessly at the sidewalk, with only the accompaniment of the street lights and some strangers walking by.

I just kept walking...

Mandy's words were replaying over and over again in my head like a broken record. I wasn't hurt by her slap. I don't think I even feel it anymore. I wasn't hurt by her words.

What hurt me most was seeing her cry in front of me and I couldn't do anything because I was the main reason to her pain.

I kept walking until I realized I was already outside the village and was already in the city plaza.

People were buzzing around everywhere. Music boomed from different directions.

Yes, L.A... It's best at night!

Not for my night however.

Definitely not in the mood for any loud party clubs.

Suddenly, I spotted a small and rather, old bar with drunk and old men sitting outside, drinking away their pain.

And that's exactly what I'm gonna do.

I entered the bar, ready to douse myself in some strong beer. I don't go to these kinds of bars really. But the occasion seemed to call for it.

I walked in and sat on the bar.

Everyone in the bar were men with weary eyes and dirty clothes. Everyone had a distinct smell of whiskey on themselves that reached my seat.

"Give me anything that's pretty strong." I said to the fat and really scary bartender.

He looked like he was maybe in his 40s. His eyes were small and wrinkly, his beard was thick and seemed to be filled with bugs or something, his shirt was stained, his belly was stuck out, he had tattoos on his arms and a part of his neck and he was a freaking giant... Taller than me.

And you all know how tall I am.

Basically, he looked like a drunk version of Santa Claus.

He had a small

"Pretty strong?" his voice was deep.

"Look kid, we don't have shit here that's pretty strong." He gave a deep chuckle.

Not the greatest time to kid with me you fat old tool.

"Just give me anything, will you?" I looked up at him with great desperation.

He gave a deep and highly scary laugh that would make the ends of your hair stand up.

Then he handed me a big root beer glass filled with a red liquid.

Looks gross.

But it'll do.

I looked at him while taking a sip. He was smirking at me.

I felt a strong yet sweet blast of taste roam my taste buds and as the liquid traveled down my throat, I felt a minty and cool kind of sensation on my throat.

I was about to ask him what this beautiful delicacy is called but he spoke first.

"Hey..." he narrowed his eyes and observed me, as if I was a test frog ready to be dissected mercilessly.

"You're that Lambert kid, ain't ya?" he said, quite unsure.

I just gave a small chuckle.

"Yeah! You are!" he exclaimed.

"Wow... a famous guy here in my bar." he said dreamily.

"Nice to meet you too." I gave a small smile.

"No one really goes here. As you can see..." he gestured over to the empty seats inside the bar with only maybe, three drunk men sitting in different corners of the room.

"Hollywood is a place to party. To get wasted..." he said in a his deep and husky voice, smirking like a creepy stalker.

"And my bar isn't exactly the kind of place you'd go into to have a good time." he grinned.

I didn't say anything, but just smiled a little.

"Uhh... so I'm guessing you're not having a good time, huh?" he leaned on the counter using his elbows.

I chuckled and looked down.

Didn't exactly want to talk for a few more hours... a few more days... maybe.

"Hey, c'mon man', let me put my bartender powers into use. I haven't used them for a long time now." he pleaded.

I laughed. "Okay... um... yeah, no. I'm not exactly having the night of my life right now."

"Lay it on me brother." he slumped down on a stool and patted his thighs.

"Uh... sure." I agreed and took a sip of my drink.

So I told him the whole story.

Actually, I was only gonna tell a portion of it. But I got carried away by my emotions that were just dying to get out.

After I was done, he heaved a big sigh.

"Sounds tough man." He leaned on his thighs.

"Yeah..." I stared idly at my drink.

"Welp... I think uncle John can give you some advice." He grinned.

"But like I said, I haven't used my bartender powers in quite a while. So my advice may be rusty."

"Results may vary." He shrugged.

I chuckled and gave a small nod.

"Look man, I don't know what you two went through or what's your story blah blah blah... But this I know!" He shrugged his shoulders.

"Men can get highly intoxicated with their emotions. We're not like women who'll just back stab their enemies and hold in their anger. We men, tend to go crazy at often times."

"Yeah..." I nodded sadly, knowing he's absolutely right.

"Just go to her. You guys just got into a bit of a misunderstanding, that's all." he grinned.

I gave a small smile of agreement.

Then looked at my drink idly again, thinking to myself.

Maybe he's right.

We just got into a misunderstanding...