love bites » marcelee.

26: An Old Flame

Chapter Twenty-Six: An Old Flame

"I'll have rum and coca-cola." Marceline ordered.

Marshall had brought her to this place, located on the outskirts of town. He said it was totally fine, but she was still a bit wary. She seriously thought that this might possibly be the sleaziest bar she'd ever been to. Everything had that certain aura around it that screamed "go home, you might get raped!"

"How old are ya, kiddo?"

The bartender had a wicked tattoo of a zombie hooker on his neck, a nose ring, and an eye patch. A freaking eye patch. The waitress wasn't any more friendly-looking, either. She didn't look a day over 40, had wild hair and a killer figure.

"C'mon, Rob! It's her birthday!" Marshall Lee tried to convince aforementioned bartender.

And here's what Marceline thought was the most ridiculous thing - Marshall actually knew these people personally.

"Fine, since it's your girl's special day, it's on the house. I don't want no problems with the cops, though." Rob gave in and served the drinks.

"Oh, I'm not his girlfriend." she corrected him, but he ignored her while Marshall suppressed a laughter.

After spending some time in here, Marceline actually found that this bar wasn't all that bad. It might seem dangerous; still and all, she was having fun. There's even a floor show here. She already had a couple rounds on the dance floor, her heart pounding in her chest as she danced to the beat of the music. She also played pool with Marshall.

"Can I just say something?" she spoke over the loud music.

"What's up?" he asked.

"You have a lot of, uh, older friends." she commented.

He chuckled. "Is there somethin' wrong with that?"

"No," she shook her head. "I guess it's better than some immature pricks at school."

Marceline spent the rest of the evening getting progressively more intoxicated, letting the warm buzz in her stomach spread with every sip of her drink. The alcohol somewhat slowed her perception but she was still able to sense the guy on the stool adjacent to her queerly checking her out. She fixated her eyes on the countertop, not caring a fig.

"Hey, I'm gonna head to the gents. Be back in a few!" Marshall told her and she nodded in response, watching him vacate his stool and disappear into the crowd.

"At least he isn't going to flirt with some bimbo. Wait, what am I saying? Why should I even care? I'm not jealous. Hahaha. It must be the alcohol making me feel this way." she soliloquized, lightly shaking her head at her silly thought.

"I didn't expect to see you here."

For a second there Marceline thought it was Marshall talking in her ear but then she realized that the guy adjacent to her was actually speaking to her, and she could feel his eyes boring into the side of her head. She pretended not to hear.

"Did you miss me...Mar-Mar?"

Her eyes widened, there was a sharp grip in her throat and her stomach felt rigid. No. It couldn't be. Her head snapped toward the guy with that all too familiar voice. In spite of being absolutely thunderstruck, she didn't know how her vocal chords had managed to articulate his name.

"Ash?"

"Aw, you actually do remember me." Ash sneered to confirm his identity.

Instead of the devil locks hairstyle that he used to wore, his hair was now much shorter, bleached white. But the chartreuse eyes staring back at Marceline were still the same. It really was him. She put her hand over her mouth to quell her nausea.

"W-what are you doing here?"

He chuckled, tipping his head back as he downed a shot of liquor. "I'm out of prison, genius. Thanks for putting me there in the first place."

"You ruined my life so you freaking deserved it, you jerk." she uttered impulsively.

Ash scowled in response and Marceline instinctively stood up to leave but he grabbed her wrist tightly and stood up too, holding her back.

"Let me go." she tried to wrench herself free from his grip but he refused to budge.

"I believe we have some unfinished business." he indicated.

Marceline's heart palpitated with the chilling fear that was setting in. The pain of the memories bit into her like the lash of a whip.

"I'm back," Marshall returned, and only then did Ash released his hold on her. "This guy botherin' you, Marcy?" he stood in front of her, shielding her, and asked in a challenging way.

Ash looked at Marceline and Marshall, scoffing as if this whole thing was amusing to him.

"No, let's just go," she held Marshall's arm, pulling him back. "I've had my fun, now I wanna go home."

Marshall stood his ground, staring daggers at Ash for a few more tensional seconds before complying with her request. "Alright."

So they left the bar.