Realistic or Modern Whisky River [1X1, Gothy and BeautifulLoser]

[Gothy]

Her name was Dawn. She was small, with kind dark eyes and dark hair that reached her mid back and curled against her face in elegant, if currently a little greasy, waves. She might have been pretty were it not for the bags under her swollen eyes, the grey sorority hoodie and jeans, the chipped nail-polish, and that greasy sheen of two-day old make-up and sweat that stuck to her face. A smudge of eyeliner -or was it mascara, that had been smeared?- a touch of lipgloss, some eyeshadow that looked as though it had once been a soft rouged pink, offsetting her small, dark mouth. Her name was Dawn, and right now, she felt like the world's biggest fuck up.

Two months ago she'd been at college studying literature; the sole remnant of that life sat by her side at the bar: a worn, musty in that old-book way, dog-eared copy of Jane Eyre that was as yellowed as it was damp, as though she had carried it all day through the rain that lashed outside. College was three states over, her family about five, and she could return to neither. College, she'd dropped out of for this year at least, and she wasn't sure if she'd return the next. Her family? Well, the less said – or thought – about that, the better. She downed a shot, neat, and winced her way through swallowing it. That buzz, that warmth of alcohol, that familiar lightheadedness, all greeted her.

She'd arrived in the small town of Nowheresville -as she was currently calling it- about three days ago on a coach after emptying the remainder of her savings and student loan and her Mom's wallet, and had, for that three days, frequented this bar on the daily. A small dive with dimmed lighting, neon signs that didn't work so much as they endured, pre-installed smokey atmosphere -or so she liked to think- and a pool table that was missing three balls. However, it had enough cheap drinks to keep her occupied, and hazy. Tonight, a vodka that tasted metallic and hit her throat like burning fire but which gave her enough of a buzz. She'd gone back with a different guy each night; to their home, not hers, and always been back at opening time come the morrow. It was just like college, the only difference being that this time, she'd been more careful.

Today she'd decided to kick that burgeoning habit and had rented a small room for $15 a night. The shower, when she'd tested it, had run cold and she had not yet the bravery to shock herself into having an icy shower. There had been mould, dead flies and a smell she couldn't identify – sweat, she thought, it smelled like old sweat-, the buzz of an electric light, and a rip in the curtains affording her no privacy. It wasn't much of anything at all, but to Dawn, it would be home for the foreseeable. She'd also spent a bit of time wandering around town but had quickly realised there was nothing to wander to, or from, except a small cafe that served coffee one way – shitty – and it's bacon with a side and a half of grease. She almost preferred the instant ramen.

Dawn sighed as she waved over the bartender, pointing to the three empty glasses at her front.

“How much for three double shots?” she said, her accent – a southern drawl – clearly setting her out as not from around here.

 

[BeautifulLoser]

Mike had spent one year in jail for a crime he didn't commit. Put away on a negligence case, it was a short year. Due to his good behavior and promise to get better - he wouldn't have to go onto parole. He did a year of rehabilitation on the inside and while the treatment was shitty - he finished and was praised for it. Even though he thought that the program was full of it - he got out and continued to drink on the regular. He didn't truly stop until he almost got busted for the second time, but luckily had an officer that was willing to look the other way. He was promised that if he was caught drinking again he'd be locked away for way longer and that was a risk Mike wasn't willing to take. That was how he ended up trying to be a functioning adult again. He worked, drove a little bit, and paid bills again. He never drove much and had intense anxiety in the passenger seat, so he only rides uber whenever he finds it to be 100% necessary.

Ever since the accident, he has walked with a slight limp which makes him slower to move than others. The cold bothers his legs so whenever it gets too cold, walking isn't a thing that was possible for him. In his job search, he had to find a place that would give him good money but also would still hire him with his record. Most people get disqualified instantly for a charge of any sort on their record - especially a charge that resulted in the death of innocent people. That was how he ended up here.

Smitteys was a bar on the outskirts of town. It was outside of a small town so it drew in a decent amount of people. It drew in people as it was one of the only bars around the area and it was notorious for its amazingly cheap drinks and it's inability to check IDs. He served a lot of minors but he was too old anymore to care about the technicalities. As long as they weren't driving and weren't assholes - he had no problem with it. Most teenagers showed up as pre game or they showed up in order to get their breath of rebellion and freedom. That being said he also served a lot of regulars and a lot of people due to the bars popularity. As a bartender his responsibility was to listen to peoples problems, which ultimately drowned out his own.

She had been coming in for a few days. As each day went by, she showed up for three of them. She looked worse as the days passed and he didn't mean to be rude by noticing that. He could tell that she was going through a lot and he could relate to her in that respect. He watched her from a distance as other bar tenders served her. His contact with her was small so he was certain she didn't even recognize him from the nights prior. Tonight was a slow night so he was the only bar tender on closing shift.

As the woman asked him a question, the man with the ginger hair tilted his head slightly at her. It wasn't his place to tell her that three double shots would not only be a bit pricey, but wasn't good for the body either. He placed his hands on the bar to speak to her "Depends on what you're taking shots of," he said to her as he looked over at her. "If you're doing shots of makers mark, probably around $8 all around," He said as he gestured to the few handles of alcohol they had on display. "If you're looking for a cheaper but stronger beverage of choice I could do fireball for $7 total," he offered.

 

[Gothy]

Dawn raised her eyes to look the bartender in the eye, meeting his gaze for a moment before she looked away sheepishly. She vaguely remembered the shock of red hair, the steady limp as he walked but in truth it was all a haze to her. One bartender melted into another, and maybe she was just mixing up features indistinguishable from one another because she'd been so drunk so often. He wasn't her regular, she knew that much, but she didn't know much more.

The brunette quickly shook her head free of that thought so close to circling the drain of other, darker thoughts, hair swirling lazily in an arc around her. She pushed a strand out of her face, and focused instead on his hands, flat on the cheap MDF of the counter: determined to stamp out any vague recollections in lieu of staring down her empty glasses and pushing them all forward in one fell sweep. She didn't want this bar to become a habit, but she also couldn't think of any better way to stick it to her mother than spending her money on a bunch of booze. And, what the hell, she'd earned a bit of a fuck-up moment. Maybe a few days, or weeks, drunk, would be enough for her. Oh, how that woman would hate it. She grinned wryly.

A hand to her pocket, and she pulled out another $10 bill, unsticking it from the damp, dwindling stack she'd brought with her. Mother had had $200 in her wallet, and she'd taken most of it. No, actually, she'd taken all of it and ran for the hills. Once, she'd have felt guilty over this but given recent events, her guilt was reserved for other actions and she found it hard to feel bad for the family that had cast her out. The rest of her money, which wasn't much, was for food and accommodation- if you could call a single room in a backwater hotel accommodation or endless instant ramen in various flavours from variety packs food. But, this money in her hand was for indulging in all the vices her mother hated. Not that the woman would know, but the irony was enough for Dawn.

The small woman rapped her fingers against the bar, chewing on her lip as she thought. Then she pushed the note forward and said
“sure, I'll have some fireballs. Pour yourself one too, what the hell.” then she took one glancing look towards the clock, and sighed. It was close to closing time, too close; that meant two things. One, she'd soon be out of booze: why all the shops -well, all two of them- in this town closed before the bars, she couldn't quite fathom. Two, she'd be out of the warm of the bar and back to her hotel room, where the threat of the cold shower loomed ever present. And, perhaps worse, that she was getting drunk enough to not care that it was going to be freezing. She couldn't afford much, but she definitely couldn't afford pneumonia.

From the clock, her eyes went to the book at her elbow. Another tap of her frayed fingernails, another chew of her lip, and she picked it up and leafed through it absent mindedly- more to avoid the inquisitive gaze of the bartender than anything.

 

[BeautifulLoser]

He nodded his head at her comment before he pulled the three double glasses from the shelves. He poured the shots for her before he slid the glasses over to her with ease. He had just recently cleaned the countertops so they weren't too horribly sticky from spilled beers just yet. He looked over at her with a smile. "I don't drink anymore mam," he said to her. "But if you wanted to give my shot to someone else in the bar you could do that... or I could just give you back the $2 ," he offered as he pushed his hands into his pockets. He looked and awaited her answer for a moment before he turned his back for a brief moment to grab a wash cloth. He looked over the bar that was beginning to dwindle in size. The people left remaining were regulars, but he felt the need to call it out anyways. "Last call everyone," he called out to the small group of people "Come get your last round of beverages," he said to them.

He looked back over at the woman and grinned softly. "Is there anything else I can grab for you before I begin to shut down the bar?" he asked her as he scratched the area right above the scar that extended from the top of his eyebrow to his temple. "Bar closes in about 30 minutes," he informed her as he began to wipe down the bar once more, making sure to get any sticky residue that was left over. Thinking about her offer for a drink, he shook his head. He has been sober for awhile now, a decision he made way too long after the accident.

Being sober in a bar was a hard feat, especially whenever everyone is constantly buying you drinks. Whenever he was bought beverages and refusing wasn't an option, he would usually toss the beverage in the sink or he would gift the drink to another patron. Had he been employed here before his accident, he knew he would've been in his glory. All of this alcohol for free? He shook his head at the thought. He had finally built up a strong rapore with the owner and he didn't want to fuck it up.

He glanced over at the woman that tried to buy him a drink.

"Staying in town for business or vacation?" he asked her as he wiped down the counters before he threw the washcloth in the hot water. Tom, a regular, approached the bar asking for a refill on his draft beer. "Closing out for the night, Tom?" he asked as he tapped a few buttons on the micros, hitting the 'print check' in the bottom right of the screen. As the paper dispensed he slid both the slip and the beer over to the man before he turned his attention back over to the stranger.

"And if you're not here for neither of those things," he began as he rested his elbows on the countertop. "What are you in for?" he asked her.

 

[Gothy]

Dawn looked him in the eye then waved a hand dismissively as she raised a shot glass to her lips, and downed in one thick, syrupy swallow. Almost immediately, she regretted it – the liqueur was hot, syrupy, sticky and spicy all in one and it burned all the way down; pleasure and pain all in one amber shot. It tasted great, filled her with warmth and memories of childhood sweets for a moment. She coughed as she finished her drink, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and went straight for the second and gingerly sipped it as a slight blush crept up her cheeks. She must look like an idiot right now, but, she countered to herself, but, that wasn't entirely untrue.
“Keep the change”. she said, regarding the spare money, and as she spoke she looked up from her drink to the bartender across from her, to his shock of red hair. And, to the scar on his brow.

Be it natural curiosity, or the alcohol, she found herself staring at it, the way the scar formed a rift in his brow, for a moment before she realised just how rude that must appear, and again, looked away sheepishly. Instead she occupied herself with rubbing her finger along the side of the glass in circular motions, as though she was thinking. She still absent-mindedly continued this action when she answered his next question.
“I dunno. Do you know of anywhere to stay in town that has a working shower? ” she said, with a huff that was both mirthful and tired, and a dry smirk of her dark lips. After a pause, she added “or, decent food. That'd be swell”. Her accent really came through as she spoke and got drunker, a slurred, husky southern drawl.

As he announced the bar was closing, she groaned, leaning back in her chair and raising her arms above her head so that she could stretch her back. It felt like she'd been here for days, not hours, and her joints creaked like old boughs, and her muscles burned as much as they throbbed, from the walk around earlier. If the bar closed, she had to leave and all that awaited her was an empty room and an icy plunge into a shower. Neither of which enticed her fully. She turned for a moment and scanned the remaining patrons, to see if any of them caught her fancy.

It wasn't that she enjoyed sleeping around. The puritanical way she had been brought up instilled in her a great fear of the burning fires of hell and despite her status as an atheist that fear of fire and brimstone, of sulphurous fumes and Old Nick himself still chilled her to the bone and still did; some habits, well, they died hard. At one point, she had been afraid of what her family – of what her mother – would think, but no longer. And if it was a choice between her cold motel room and a warm bedfellow, she knew which she'd choose. Anything for some vague intimation of intimacy, no matter how fake. However, there was nobody at the bar she much fancied, it was all old regulars and middle-aged men. With a sigh, she turned back to Mike just as he asked her more questions.

She couldn't help but laugh.

“No, not business I'm afraid. Not even much pleasure to be had here.” she said, as she took another daring half-swig of the shot in her hand. Not the whole thing, but enough of it to get the flavour and the burn in a manageable dose this time around, and she enjoyed it a lot more this time. She licked her lips as she considered just how to answer his next question, which threw her off a little. Not in the five days she had been here had anyone actually asked about her, not even the people she went home with. Partially, because she'd only gone to this bar, the small mart on the edges of town, and the greasy cafe. Her only interactions with other people had been in impersonal, service statements; 'that'll be $3.50 please, ma'am”; 'how do you take your eggs?'; 'anything else?'.

She watched the bartender go through the motions, with mild interest. He seemed friendly, genuine. Maybe she'd come back tomorrow and seek him out, if the chat went well. Even the illusion of companionship was better than nothing at all. Finally, she settled on an answer to his query that, she hoped, didn't sound too melodramatic.

“Well, barkeep, I'm here because there's nowhere else to be.”

It was true. She was in this town because it was far away from college and further from family. She was in this bar because nowhere else was open at this time, and the alternative was peeling wallpaper. Though, she was in this situation almost entirely because of a mistake she had made. Her own damn fault.

For only the second time tonight, she looked him dead in the eye as she lay her hands on the bar, then her chin atop them, so that she was looking up at him. She had no idea if his question was out of genuine concern, or friendly chat. But, she was too drunk to care.

"And nowhere else wants me, at that." she added with a sniff that was almost self-pitying. "You do this barkeeper therapy often, then?" was what she next said, with a small, tinkling giggle.

 

[BeautifulLoser]

He watched the woman for a moment, mainly because it was his job. She didn’t seem like the type of outsider that was unruly and annoying, but rather, a passerby. She downed her shots well, like he did back in his prime drinking days. Back then things were much easier whenever all the pain could be drowned in some liquid courage. However, that is exactly what got him in trouble once so long ago. It all stayed with him like the accident had happened to him last night. The pain in his leg throbbed as he thought of being trapped inside a tin can of death, wedged between cement and a car smashed like an accordion. He was blacked out through most of the night - but the accident was so vivid. Moments like this, before his sentence, he'd drown the thoughts in beer and drugs but he was clean now - at least, he hoped he would stay that way.

When she said keep the change, he nodded his head and moved towards the extra bills left on the counter top. He closed it up in the register, figuring he'd figure out tip money at the end of the night when he counted down the register. Pressing the drawer closed with his hip, he then turned to face the woman at the bar again. He thought that he caught the stares to his scars but he chalked it up to him being paranoid and self conscious. The mental scarring was enough for him but he felt as though the physical scars are what told everyone what he did. He knew it wasn't true and no one knew his story unless they googled his full name, but the paranoia still crept within him every once in awhile. He made himself believe that she hadn't even noticed the scar and he continued to mindlessly clean the bar.

At her next comment, he chuckled and leaned into his hands on the bar. "Plenty of places with running water around these parts," he said to her before he added, "Just not sure if all of the running water sources are up to code... and about 95% of them aren't hot water sources, either." he noted the southern draw that was in her voice that tended to get thicker the more she drank. It was none of his business really, but he still found the clientele interesting to say the least. In a town full of regulars and where everybody knows everybody, someone wandering in with a southern accent was bound to draw some attention.


"As for food," he began as he scratched at his forehead. "Our kitchen staff goes home around 11," he said as he gestured towards the kitchen window with its lights off. He knew that wasn't what she asked but he told her anyways. "You definitely aren't going to get anything super great at this hour of the night," he stated as he pulled out his phone to look at the time. "There's a Denny's down the way," he gestured with his fingers down the street "and an Ihop the other way," he pointed in the other direction. "Both have a nightshift staff bound to give you an hour wait at the least," he said with a nod of his head. "Both greasy and gross... but food nonetheless," he said to her with a weakened smile. Dennys was him and his friends favorite drunk food place back in the day.

At her next string of responses, he couldn't help but stop what he was doing to look over at her. He tossed the rag back into the sink as he heard the jingle of the bar go off - another regular had left the bar for the night. The number of people were dwindling but the environment was still trying to clutch onto it's liveliness. They were failed attempts, but attempts nonetheless.

"Well that comment wasn't mysterious in the slightest," he teased as he turned his back on her for a moment. He swiped the micros card and used it to pull the drawer from the register. He was the only one that worked tonight so counting the register down wasn't much of an issue as he knew where all the money went. He rummaged through the crumpled up one dollar bills, some still sticky with beer, and managed to get a count on the register.

"Well, if it's any consolation," he said as he tucked whatever tip money he made into his pocket. "I want you here," he said to her with a shrug. "I'd rather look over at a new face over any of these old ones," he said as he leaned on his elbows. Her next statement caused a chuckled to come from his lips as he shook his head at her.

"Nah, I usually wait for the people to spill their guts to me - I barely probe things out of anyone," he admitted to her "You wouldn't believe the amount of things I have heard..." he said as he scratched the back of his neck. "Affairs, laundering, abuse... you name it... I've heard it," he chuckled "Maybe I should charge you for the therapy session, yeah?" he teased her as he pulled away from the counter for the third time tonight. He was beginning to go through the mental check list of all the things that were required for the closer to do and he was certain he did all of them.

He looked back at the woman and smiled softly towards her. Her comments lead him to believe it had been a long few days and he had been there before and he related to her. He wasn't sure what was troubling her or what she was going to do next, but he still empathized with her. He too, spent his first few months trying to find places to drink and places with running water. It were a long few months before he got back on his feet but he managed to do it somehow. At the thought he shrugged his jacket over his shoulder and zipped it up. He tucked the tip money into the zipper portion of his jacket and he chuckled once more. He felt bad for essentially having to kick her out sometime soon, but he also wanted to get home to sleep.

 

[Gothy]

She couldn't help but snort at his comment on the kitchen staff; “trying to sell me on this place, huh?” she said, with a tired sigh and a weary chuckle. She, once more, glanced around the bar – its dim lighting, it's creaky, black-with-dust floorboards and chequered linoleum. Every part the cliché , but she had grown fond of it in the past few days; if only because it was a warm room and a middling drink. “Though if its greasy breakfast here or greasy breakfast down at the cafe, I'll take here. At least you'll pretend to talk to me”.

She sounded bitter now, and in truth, she was; this was not the friendliest town, and her accent, her college hoodie, her persistence in asking for directions all set her out as a stranger in a strange land. Some of the locals regarded her with disdain, and most ignored her. In truth she wasn't sure which was preferable. In truth, this bartender – it only occurred to her now that she didn't know his name – was the friendliest face she'd seen in days and that camaraderie was something she hadn't realised she missed till now. These past few days she'd been lonelier than she'd been in a long time, perhaps in ever, and it was enough to push her to drink.

She took another shot, sucking it down with a hiss as she watched Mike get on with everything. She listened to him, and nodded her head. For a while though she stayed silent and didn't say anything. Instead, she watched him. She knew what this nightly routine meant. The bar was closing up, and now she had nowhere else to be, nowhere else to make a nuisance of herself. The brunette chewed on her lip a moment as she swilled the final shot around in the glass, watching it whirl and curl at the bottom of the glass before she swallowed it in one with another stinging hiss and splutter.

It was with a breath which caught in her ribcage and a sour sinking feeling that Dawn noticed the tender putting on his coat and making ready to leave. She ran her tongue across her lips, then wiped the rest of the sticky, sickly liqueur from her mouth. Then, a deep, world-weary sigh.

“I can't tempt you with a shitty burger can I?” she asked, and genuinely meant it. “Nobody else in this damn town will talk to me and I'd like to pretend I have a friend to shoot the shit with”, she added, the alcohol loosening her lips better than any probing question could have. And whilst a blush still crept up her cheeks – she was painfully aware of how juvenile both the drinking and the request sounded-, it was this or a cold shower. “If I can't buy you a drink at least let me buy you a burger.”

 

[BeautifulLoser]

“I mean the place is worth a whole 5 bucks if you want it,” he teased her as he gestured to the bar around him. The bar wasn’t the worst in the small town - it was one of the higher ends in comparison. It was a nicer bar that sold beer for cheap so you couldn’t go wrong. That and it was essentially his home after the near year of working here. He was working on talking to owner into letting him move into the apartment upstairs, as it’d make travel a lot easier for him. The cold bothered his leg and he was a bit of a baby when he was when it came to it being in pain. To live right upstairs would take that part of his problem away from him. Mike of the past would’ve surely killed his liver had he lived above a bar but he was different now.

“People just don’t like new faces is all,” he assured her. “They didn’t like me when I came here either,” he said. It was the truth, and he was convinced for a long time that people knew his past and that was why they avoided him. Now he knew it wasn’t the truth, but it felt like it was for a long time. “When you’re in high school and are the new kid you’re looked at like some kinda prize... in the real world they’ll just ignore you and step over you. Sucks,” he said before he chuckled “and that’s the last bit of therapy you’ll get from me until you start paying me.” He joked. He shrugged his shoulders and fixed the hood of his jacket as he listened to her speak.

He listened to her proposition and he chuckled, mainly to himself. He was pretty boring ever since he sobered up - his form of fun was usually small concert or watching a new movie by himself. He had become quite the hermit, even with his job title. Ever since he lost all of his friends to either the accident or lifestyle changes, he hasn’t bothered to make new ones. The human contact outside of drunken slurs sounded nice to him and she didn’t seem to be bad company. The alcohol was hitting her a bit thicker now but she wasn’t belligerent. What did he have to lose anyways?

He chuckled and began to cut the lights to the bar. He moved around back to lock the back door and then moved back into the bar area. He pushed the bar up so he could move through and fiddled with more lights before he turned towards her.

“I guess I can be tempted quite easily,” he said to her with a grin. “I don’t really drive anymore,” he admitted. He had a car that he could drive in an emergency situation, but it’s been collecting dust. Last time he tried to drive it resulted in a huge panic attack and break down. He hasn’t tried again since. “But it’s a 5 minute walk, tops,” he said to her “I wouldn’t want you driving like this anyways,” he said as he scratched the back of his neck.

 

[Gothy]

Dawn pushed her hair back from her face with a grin as she watched him work, undoing and then tying her hair back up into a much higher ponytail so it was out of her face and less lank in appearance. She smiled, earnestly, over at her new companion and pushed her fringe from her eyes. Never mind the grease, she was making a friend despite it all - maybe there was a silver lining to all of this. Maybe things would be alright, maybe she didn't look so bad after all.

Or, maybe it was the alcohol talking. She stood up and pressed her clothes down, smoothing out her jeans and readjusting her hoodie so that she was no longer a mass of ruffled clothing and more easily resembled a human being. Even if she was a human being who had not slept, eaten or washed properly in days. After a moments hesitation she turned back to the bar and grabbed the book she had been thumbing as she drank. As she waited for Mike to get everything together, she thumbed through it again, her bleary eyes stopping on a page every few moments so she could read what had once been her favourite book.

It felt like so long ago that she had read this and loved it. Another lifetime, another life where she hadn't made the mistakes she'd made, where her mother would still talk to her. A moment, a pang of guilt and sadness as her other hand curled around the money that wasn't exactly hers. Then, a quiet resolution.
"Fuck her" she whispered to herself. And, as she spoke her eyes rose to meet Mike's and she tried to read what she saw in his face.

Was he actually considering joining her, or was his kindness really only extended as far as the bar? A quick, sickly paranoid thought skittered through her mind. Was he pitying her? She found herself scanning his face anxiously, searching for any hint of a clue but she found him lacking,or maybe it was simply that she had drunk too much. But as he spoke in the affirmative she found herself smiling again, a huge infectious grin that she, prior to mere moments ago, hadn't considered herself capable of. Especially in light of recent events.

And, at his assertion about the car she couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh sweetie, I left my car about four states back I'm afraid. I couldn't drive even if I wanted to, and I make lots of silly mistakes but I'm not quite sure if drunk driving could ever be one of them!" she laughed again, a throaty, drunken laugh, and pocketed her book.

"Come along then, I'm buying your therapy for a burger" she said, with a cheeky grin. It was as though flashes of her personality were seeping through despite her blood alcohol level - as though this one act had been all she needed. She jumped ahead in front of Mike and shouldered the front door to the bar open as she turned back to her newfound companion. Again, her searching gaze. Again she looked to him for any sign of ill intent, or bad will. Again, she came back with no idea, and was altogether too drunk to mind at this point. The cold air from outside was only solidifying how drunk she was.

As she looked out into the night, with its streetlamps and blank storefronts of the opposite side of the road, another thought crept in. Dawn turned on the ball of her heel and thrust her hand out.

"Mr Barkeep Sir, I don't think I've introduced myself. I'm Dawn". It was an action that was strangely earnest, naive and endearing all in one.

 

[BeautifulLoser]

Mike pushed his fingers through his ginger colored hair as they moved into the streets. He locked the door behind the pair and took one look over the building before he fully pulled himself from the workplace. He shoved the jingling keys into his pocket and pulled a hood up over his head while he fumbled his phone into his pocket. The woman was tipsy for sure and it was an interesting thing to step back into that part of himself. He laughed over at her and he tucked his hands into his pockets.

He laughed at her comment about the vehicles and he nodded his head over at her “Well, I have a car, but I refuse to drive it. “ he said to her “The only time I’ll be behind the wheel is if it’s the last case scenario and all the ambulances in the county have their tires ripped open,” he chuckled nervously. He kicked a pebble alongside the road that they were walking on as he listened to her next comment. One that dug at him a little deeper, but he chose not to dwell on it. She was drunk and she had no way of knowing his past or why he wound up here. He noted this and let the sick feeling wash over his body before he made another move.

The woman seemed to be enjoying herself and it was the first time he’s seen her somewhat relaxed in the time he’s seen her. She was giggling and talking out loud and it was a refreshing feeling to experience. It had been so long since he had been out with someone that was lively and active. Most of his outside contact was with grumpy alcoholics or people who didn’t want to be bothered. It was nice to be out with someone that laughed alongside him and actually spoke with him. It was a small town and he was still considered an outsider to some. It didn’t help that he confined himself to his apartment and Chinese place down the block.

As she whittled around, he laughed again as he extended his hand. He gave the woman’s a squeeze and a shake before he released her. “Mike,” he said to her with a grin. The woman was kind and seemed to understand him on a level he couldn’t quite peg.

The limp had slowed him down majorly at the start but he had finally begun to work with it. He moved with more of a purpose now, as the Denny’s was closer to his apartment. It was only a 10 minute walk from the restaurant as opposed to the 20 minutes it takes from the bar. He would be walking less and in a full stomach. He couldn’t complain much especially as the glow of the yellow sign began to welcome him in. His diet has consisted of nothing but microwave meals and Chinese food, not that Denny’s was much better, but at least it was somewhat real food. He couldn’t remember the last time he went out with anyone - no less a female.

He understood that it was a simple gathering and he’d probably never see her again, but the company was nice. It made it better that she was an attractive woman. Once he got out of jail he had his fair share of hookups to get back in the game, but he couldn’t remember the last time he had actually been touched or given any type of attention. He was a bit depraved in that sense but he brushed the thoughts away as he pulled the door open for her.

“You’re crazy if you actually think I’m gonna let a female buy me a meal,” he said to her casually. “I’ll handle the tab, get whatever you want... burgers and all,” he said

 

[Gothy]

"Ooh, firm grip" she grinned, as he introduced himself. Then, a playful tip of her head. "Pleased to meet you Mike" she said, and in that moment she truly meant it. It had been a tough few days, on top of a rougher few weeks and she'd forgotten what companionship could feel like, let alone pleasant company or someone actually wanting to spend time with her. Though, through this, a nagging doubt in her mind - was this kindness, or obligation, or pity? Through the haze of alcohol, a warm glow in her chest, a cold pit had formed.

She hoped it was kindness. Hell, she'd take obligation, even, over pity. Though, she couldn't help but think to herself that perhaps pity was all she deserved. Here she was, twenty years old - or perhaps young -, a drop out who's family had thoroughly excommunicated her. As for friends... she'd left most of them behind, but she couldn't help feeling like they'd been gossiping and badmouthing her behind her back. Another thought pricked forward. Perhaps she deserved it.

She'd fallen slightly quiet for a few minutes while she processed all of this, her thoughts clouded by fatigue and more obviously by alcohol. Instead of allowing those dark thoughts in her head to fully consume her, she watched Mike walk, and that curious limp that she'd noticed before was more prominent. She wondered whether the scar had anything to do with it, but didn't fancy her chances at asking - she'd managed to convince him to accompany her, but she would be lying if she said she was confident in his companionship. She didn't want to piss him off.

Besides, the Denny's had come into view and with it, that smell of greasy air and frying burgers, and with it, that yellowish hum of electric lighting.
Dawn curtesyed towards Mike as he opened the door for her. Then, another laugh - full and throaty.
"You're determined to be my Knight in shining armour aren't you, Mike?" she said, referring both to the door and the offer of food.

There was a pause as she stepped inside into the relative warm and onto the linoleum, scuffed underneath her feet by many steps just like hers. Then, she turned back to him.
" How are you going to therapise me if I'm not paying?" she winked as she said it, then took hold of his hand and began to gently pull.
"Now come on, I've never been to a Denny's before!"

 

[BeautifulLoser]

Mike smiled back at her comment and released his grip on her hand. "Well, I do try to give the firmest of handshakes," he joked as he walked alongside her. She was a nice woman, Dawn. He noted her kindness and her genuine laughs that filled the air. He understood how hard it was being the new person in town, that and he understood that sometimes all it took was a person that was willing to listen to them. He recalled all the times that people sat at his bar sobbing endlessly into a drink or just talking out of their ass. Sometimes all a person needs is another human to listen to them and to give them a genuine smile or two. It was hard to do that in a town like this, but it never stopped him from trying. "And it's nice to meet you too, Dawn," he said to her after a moment.

He couldn't help but wonder if her laughter and smiles came purely from the alcohol. He had seen several different types of drunks in his line of work - from the violent ones to the ones that just couldn't stop laughing. He tried to recall her behavior previous to getting a few drinks flowing, but they all seemed to go back to the stereotypical person sitting at a bar asking for more drinks than they could probably handle. He wasn't one to judge anyone's story or appearance, but it was still a constant behavior he came across. He had only dealt with violent drunks a small handful of times and once handled those people usually weren't allowed to come back. Dawn seemed to be the type that was a genuinely good person though and he hoped that she would stay this way.

As they moved into the grease filled restaurant, he took note to his surroundings. A group of teenagers sat in the back corner, all attached to their phones and barely talking. Another couple sat in a booth not far away from the door. Other than the kitchen staff talking at the counters, the place was empty. The floor had a certain stickiness to it and he could feel his feet peel from the tile with each step. He moved along with the waitress as they took a seat and he couldn't he but chuckle as she held his hand, trying to convince him to let her buy his burgers.

"I'm afraid no amount of therapies, no matter how delicious, would be able to help me," he chuckled. What he said was true, even though he hardly tried to do any therapy. He suffered through the state programs in jail just to make himself look better - but none of it ever really helped him. It took a moment for him to realize he had tuned out for a second and he jumped back into the conversation.

"Well, Dennys is your average American food place with lots of food for super cheap," he said "Perfect food concotions for sucking up any alcohol in your system and filled with a staff that cares too little about their jobs to judge you."

 

[Gothy]

Dawn sat opposite him and lifted a menu. Perhaps she looked silly with it so close to her face - she was a little too bleary eyed to read it from afar, and her brow furrowed into a frown as she concentrated on the words that just seemed out of grasp. After a moment, she huffed.
"Damn, must have had more to drink than I thought. Its all Greek to me!" she put the menu down after a moment and noted his silence.

He wasn't exactly the chattiest as was - she liked to think she was a people person, despite it all, and yet she found him very hard to read. If there was one thing she knew though, it was that she liked making people laugh. She liked making him laugh, and a brief moment was spent trying to remember whether she had seen him laugh at the bar at all. Any recollection escaped her, though she had the distinct impression of loneliness and, maybe a certain maudlin disposition. She glanced him over once again, her eyes drifting from the shock of red hair to his scar, to his calloused hands. A working man's hands, just like Pa had.

It took that brief realisation, mingled perhaps with the alcohol, to bring her good mood to an end. She sat in silence for what might have altogether been far too long a pause, hands in her lap, chewing on her lip and fiddling with her sleeve. All in one, she must have looked the proverbial scolded child, even if just for a moment. She shook her head, firmly as though physically shaking those dark, cobwebbed thoughts from her skull and again raised the menu.

"You mean some servers judge you?!" Dawn said, wide eyes and mouth agape in a pantomime of shock, which she hoped would perhaps again make him laugh. "I hope you aren't including yourself in that bracket, or I'm screwed..."
she smiled once more as she said it, running her fingers down the menu as she read, lest she loose her place in the jumble of words her drunken eyes were struggling to reassemble.

 

[BeautifulLoser]

He laughed at her comment at the menu and he fthumbed through the pages as if he didn’t already know what he wanted to eat. He tried to recall the last time he even ate anything, before work probably. He didn’t stop to get a sandwich like he intended to and he tried to think how long it had been since he ate before that. He gave up on trying to think as he finally decided what he wanted. He closed the greasy menu and pushed it to the end of the table before he spoke to her again “You can never go wrong with a burger,” he suggested “Chicken fingers are my personal favorite,” he said as he threaded his fingers together.

That was whenever the once chatty and laughing woman went to a certain level of silence. Her hands fell and what was once confidence turned to fiddling with her sleeves and staring at her hands. It was a weird and off putting transition that managed to catch him off guard. She was going through something, all that being obvious to him. Why else would someone like her end up in a town like this one with no business to be had here? It was a bizarre train of thoughts that lead him back to being in her shoes awhile back. The thought made him slightly nauseous as he thought back to being that person, but he shrugged it off as quickly as she did.

He laughed at her next statement almost as if she had snapped out of the bad mood entirely. He entire mood made him want to scratch his head but he attributed it to the alcohol and whatever situation she was in. He knew that alcohol didn’t help but he wasn’t one to lecture her about it. He wasn’t her dad so he wasn’t going to lecture her like one. He thought back to his parents for a moment but brushed the thought from his memory. He was basically his own parent ever since he was a little kid and he resented them for that.

He snapped away from his mind once more before he let out another laugh “Nah, I could never judge anyone,” he said to her “I’ve been judged in the worst ways and I’ve made some very very awful mistakes in my life. I have no room to be doing that,” he said as he leaned towards her “But yes, they do judge everyone. “ he teased “I know from experience.... seeing as when I was young I was every servers worst nightmare,”

 

[Gothy]

Dawn watched him as he voiced his recommendation.
“Ah, a Denny's connoisseur, eh?” She grinned, “I will defer to your expert opinion then, monsieur” and another nod of her head as she thumbed through drinks on the menu and hummed to herself. Clearly, trying to make up for her strange turn with slightly forced cheerfulness. As though she was used to not talking about her problems, at pretending she was OK. She hadn't decided on much, in the grand scheme of things. She was enjoying the here and now and that was all she was thinking about for foreseeable – she'd had enough grease in the past half week to last her more than a lifetime but it seemed like, in this town, it was grease or the high road. She watched him thread his fingers with a small, rather interested smile before pushing her menu to the edge of the table, next to his with a gentle tap of her fingers.

She felt awkward- for her silence, and for her drunkenness and for her relative kiddishness when compared to the man opposite her; in her eyes, he seemed so mature, so adult, so much more experienced at all of this. Even if she wasn't entirely sure what “this” was, beyond an excursion and an exercise in how not to handle things. Here she was, a runaway with no plan in a town she didn't know deferring to the guidance of this poor man, whom she had roped into this disaster. She'd come here on complete whim – it had been the cheapest ticket the furthest away she could get from her family, from her university, from the past she was currently trying to hide from.

After another moment of silence, she smiled apologetically towards the man sat opposite her.
“Sorry. Its been a …” she paused, and sighed heavily, shoulders sinking with her out breath. “Its been a crap few days, if you couldn't tell.” As she said this, she avoided his gaze and looked instead to the window, bright lights reflecting in the black mirror-like surface of the windows. She fell silent again, twisting her sleeve with a thumb and watched him speak. His words gave her the perfect opportunity to clam up and listen, and another way into conversation- despite her awkwardness, perhaps she could salvage this.

“You've heard a lot about me, I'm sure you're tired of me by now. Tell me about you!” She said, leaning forward on her elbows to better look at him.

 

[BeautifulLoser]

“I guess you could say that,” he chuckled at her statement about Denny’s “Was me and my friends drunken comfort food back in the day,” he said with a nod of his head “The menus stayed relatively the same and it takes me back to the better days by being here if I’m being honest,” he said to her with a saddened smile. Him and his friends were pieces of shit back in the day but none of them deserved any of what they got. It still stuck with him on the daily but the pain has lessened after a little while.

By the time he had finished talking, their waitress had come over to take their orders, Mike settling on a coke and a cheeseburger with fries. Quite boring but it had been so long since he actually ate something like a burger. He was sure he’d get sick after it but for now it was worth it to him. He was sure that his judgement was still questionable, considering all that has happened to him. He’s gotten way better and has his life on the right track again but a past was still his past and he couldn’t help but wish to take it all back. He had managed to tune out again but paid attention once she started to apologize to him.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said to her “I get it,” he mentioned softly before he followed her gaze outside the window. He wanted to tell her that she would pull through, that everything would be okay, but none of that could ever be for certain. Sure, all of it sounded nice but life had the tendency to just hitting strikes at you before it let up. “Atleast we get to drown our sorrows in some burgers and fries, right?” He asked her with a smile. He tried to lighten up the mood just slightly, as they both seemed to be stuck somewhere in their minds. He was used to being stuck in his head, but he also lived alone, so that meant he could be stuck all day if he wanted. He wasn’t truly used to human interaction on this level.

“Hmmmm, about me...” he said as he tried to think “I’m really not that interesting,” he lied as he tapped his fingers on the table. “Let’s see...” he said before he spoke again “I live alone and my favorite microwave meal is chicken Alfredo,” he said to her “Outside of work I’m a hermit and the only places I go is either to the store, my house, or the Chinese place around the corner,” he felt as though he was being too superficial and he didn’t know why he felt the need to tell her more “Struggled with a drug and alcohol problem from the age of 13,” he said to her “Tried to clean up my act and after a few major relapses I’ve been clean for a little over a year and a half now. “

 

[Gothy]

She watched him talk, hands propping her head up as she leant elbow first into the table. She ordered herself a coffee - black, two sugars -, and some fingers as he had suggested. In the back her mind, she was working through why her mother never let her come here - something to do with religion, she wagered, but something also unfathomable to her. Was fast food a sin? Speaking to strange men certainly was. No, she didn't believe but that didn't stop that tiny part of her from worrying that despite it all, perhaps mama was right. Perhaps she was going to hell - if not for this definitely for the -

She bit her lip. No, she wasn't going to think about it. Besides, she had a question-
"Mike... you, you talk about the old days like you're some old thing. But you look like you got like, ten years on me, tops" she said, with a slightly impish grin. Dawn had to admit, in the harsh light of the diner, his name was tasting good on her lips. It was both a statement and a gentle probe into his age, one that she hoped wasn't too obvious.

She shifted in her seat again and shuffled uncomfortably. She'd been sat down for far too long, over these past few days and it was starting to make her ache. But, she stopped her fidgeting when he began to talk. She was, genuinely, interested. She was a stranger in a strange place and she couldn't help but feel that he was too, that they were almost kindred spirits but that - that was a silly thought.

"Chicken Alfredo, you say? And Denny's? That's some haute cuisine, sir. I'm partial to a good tex mex, myself" she said with another earnest smile. Despite it all, she was almost enjoying herself. And then, he spoke again and her eyes widened in an embarrassingly puritanical display of naiveté as she gasped, hand cartoonishly clamped to her dark mouth.

"Drugs?!" was all she could stammer. She'd never known anyone who'd done drugs in her life, let alone been an addict and now before him, she felt even sillier, ever the girl. "You've lived such a life, the best... worst I've done is -"
she hesitated. Then, she stopped and laughed awkwardly. "Doesn't matter really." she didn't say it with finality, and she sounded even less sure of herself than she had before. Another question, painfully naive - at least in her opinion - burned in her mind but she wasn't about to voice it. Instead she cleared her throat.

"Anyway, how'd that happen?" it was something I the way he spoke. She wanted to hear more, she... wanted to comfort him.

 

[BeautifulLoser]

Mike chuckled softly “It’s because I am old,” he said to her “or atleast.... have a life that’s older than this one,” he chuckled again. It was the truth, no matter how cryptic it came out. “Old friends and old memories and what not, way different than the life I live now is all,” he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. It was all the truth as he didn’t live that way anymore - mainly because all of his friends were dead. Those remaining either turned against him or were still involved in drugs and drinking. It didn’t matter as he moved away anyways.

The thoughts kept plaguing his head. Maybe it was because he was with a girl avoiding her hometown too, or so he assumed. Maybe it was just because his friends were laying on his mind heavily as of recent. He felt as though he would never really escape the nightmares he had from the town in which he grew up in. The thought nearly made him sick as he thought back to it. He tried to shake the thoughts from his head as he took a long drink from his coke. She spoke to him and genuinely seemed interested in what he had to say. It was the first time he’s had a real and genuine conversation in a long time.

He chuckled at her comment on his food choices and he shook his head “Hey now,” he warned her “Don’t go hating in my favorite dishes!” He said to her as he threw his straw paper at her. “It’s a comfort food and I could easily eat my whole body weight in alfredo sauce, don’t judge. “ he said to her as he took another drink of his coke. Whenever he went to jail he had lost way more weight than necessary and it took him a long time to adjust to real people food again. He always loved his alfredo though and it helped that it wasn’t in the dishes at the jail.

“Yes, drugs,” he chuckled at her response. She seemed sheltered. Maybe it was a money thing or maybe her inexperience was what led her here. The place wasn’t anything near the ghetto but it certainly wasn’t a good and thriving area either. Anyone from the area knew this town for that reason. At her next comment, he titled his head slightly at her before she backed off again. He decided it wasn’t worth the risk to keep poking at her so he replied “Hey, I’m sure it’s something... but if you ever wanna talk I’m here to listen,”

So they were one in the same for the most part, baring their secrets to new cities so they could forget the old. Forget and escape the judgement of small town minds. Maybe her secret wasn’t as bad as his own but it could very well be worse. It wasn’t his place to judge as technically the blood of his three friends and the car they smashed into was on his hands. He could never forgive himself and that was part of the reason he got as far as his wallet would allow. Maybe Dawn was in the same situation, hell, he didn’t even know if he’d see her again after tonight. She seemed to be on the move and people on the move only stayed for so long.

“How’d I get on drugs? Or how I got clean?” He chuckled. “Got on drugs super early. My parents weren’t made to be parents so I wound up parenting myself... which lead to me turning to the streets for a lot of mischief and what not. “ he admitted to her “No fault if anyone but myself... but turned to drugs for an extra edge and to sort of escape my parents. “ he said “That and to rub in their faces that they weren’t good parents... looking to pass my drug addiction as their fault,” he said. “How I got clean though is a long boring story,” he lied, dancing around the whole jail bit.

 

[Gothy]

Dawn couldn't help but giggle back at him for his reply.
"Now you almost sound as melodramatic as I feel!" she chastised, gently prodding his shoulder with another smirk. He hadn't answered the question about his age, not directly, but she figured at this point it would be rude to pry any further; after all, had he interrogated her? He'd been perfectly respectful, a true gentleman, which was more than could be said for some of the men she'd encountered as of late. For some reason, this man she'd just met put her at ease in ways she couldn't quite explain, and for the first time in a few weeks, she felt a little more comfortable and a little less the scarlet woman. Everyone - her so-called friends, her so-called family, had made her feel like nothing more than a harlot in need of a good talking to, as though she wasn't ashamed and embarrassed enough.

That thought prompted another to bubble to the surface of the dark pool of her thoughts. What would her mama think of her now? She'd gotten in enough trouble with one man, and here she was in a diner her Mother never took her to, with another, enjoying his company. She imagined her mother's sneer, the pointed jabs she'd inflict with her razor-like tongue: always so curt, so sharp, so cold.

But, Dawn was here. She was here, not there, and what's more, she felt the most her she'd felt in weeks. She didn't know if it was the alcohol, the company, or a myriad mix of both but she hoped it was the former -or the latter- because it felt almost as though she was making a friend. Even if he was one with almost as many secrets as her.
The waitress, a curvaceous blonde woman named Claire, brought over her order with a cursory smile and a nod, and Dawn responded in kind before absolutely smothering the first of many fingers in ketchup, and biting down hard.
"Damn, that's good. I've been eating greasy spoon bacon for three days now. This is a step up!" she grinned at Mike, then ate another almost as quickly as she'd downed the shots. If she had a sin, it was definitely gluttony.

At his words about his parents, she nodded her head quite emphatically but also, she hoped, quite understandingly. She took a huge gulp from her coffee, then huffed about a bit - it had been far too hot for her to take such a large gulp - and flapped her hands until her mouth was cool enough to talk.
"I always thought I had good parents." She said. "Strict, but good." there was another pause, this action becoming habit, and then she spoke again. "Very fundamental, very traditional, but it never much bothered me. I thought they respected me, but turns out-"
she laughed, bitterly, then took another bite of her food.
"I guess that's why I'm here" she said, with a finality that sounded like she didn't want to speak more on that issue, no thank you sir. The more she'd spoken of her parents, of home, the harder her accent had become until it was a full-on Texan drawl, one which up until now had been quite soft fully erupted. As though she'd been hiding that accent, hiding all hints that she was a newcomer, a stranger.

After another bite she smiled sadly at Mike.
"It sounds like you've had a hell of a ride so far, Mike. But look at you now- in a late night Denny's with a woman you just met! Gotta be an improvement" she chuckled, clearly self deprecating in her words.

 

[BeautifulLoser]

The woman, Dawn, was definitely an interesting spirit to have around. Her louder nature and need to keep talking kept him on his toes, and that was for sure. He wasn’t used to much Company no less company of a woman that actually wanted to talk to him. His head went towards his one and only relationship he ever had - a junkie that did some prostituing in the side. She was clean and they got to get high together - so she was good in his book. She didn’t steal from him and he didn’t steal from her. Eventually they all just went their separate ways. So maybe he technically was still in a relationship he just didn’t know it.

He wasn’t sure why his mind went there with a woman like Dawn sitting across from him. She seemed to be a nice woman who was fighting some hardships. Her sheltered nature gave him hope as it was easy for people like that to spiral. Aside from her bursts of indulgence of alcohol and greasy food, she didn’t seem too bad. A different personality was a good change for him. He enjoyed her company... even if it was just temporary. He knew that most people who cane through would be temporary, but he wanted to hang onto her a little longer.

He chuckled over at both her comment about him being melodramatic and the fact she ate chicken strips like she’d never seen food before. She had even touched his shoulder which caused him to laugh into the diner again. He smiled over at her before he broke into his own food, biting into the greasy burger. The grease coated his fingertips and he wiped the grease onto his jeans. He popped some fries into his mouth and looked over at her. She had the tendency to disappear into thought but he didn’t mind in the slightest. Watching her fall into deep thought was cute and it gave his brain time to catch up with everything she was saying.

“I’m surprised you’ve eaten at greasy spoon for so long and you don’t have some type of bacterial growth forming off of you,” he teased as he bit into his burger again. The food was nowhere near good, but it was decent enough to handle both hunger and drunkeness. He laughed again. “I wouldn’t call that so much of a step as it is a...toe,” he said before he both physically and mentally face palmed. A slight blush rose up to his skin and he shook his head “That was lame.... I’m sorry,” he said with a nervous batch of laugher. “I do that kinda stuff a lot I’m sorry,” he apologized before he tried to focus in on his burger.

At her words, he listened. She seemed to think highly of her parents but he couldn’t be sure. Part of her seemed to be hurt, but a different kind of hurting. He didn’t have feelings for his parents long enough to feel hurt by them - they sort of were just always a missing figure in his life. He blamed them a lot for what he wound up having in this world. He blamed them for not guiding him. Having to find it all out the hard way never helped his resentment he felt towards them. However, he still tried to Lauren to what she had to say.

“I guess they can still be existent in your life but still do some damage,” he said with a nod of his head. “My parents weren’t existing figures in my life... you know?” He asked with a sigh. “I could be passing my mom everyday on the way to work and I don’t think I could tell you what she looked like. “ he said to her “They stopped trying to see me a long time ago,” he said with a sigh. They never came to visit him in jail and that put the nail in the coffin for him. He never reached out to say he was out and he never planned on talking to them again. Not until they tried to prove themselves for all they’ve done.

“Parents can just... fuck us up so easily,” he said as he exhaled through his nose. “One moment they can be your best friend and the next they just abandon you.” He said “Almost as if they just flip a switch...” he sighed audibly once more. “Those moments always hurt the worst,” he pointed out with a sigh. He didn’t get read bedtime stories and had to learn everything on his own. He had to force them into even registering him for school, even if it meant riding the city bus as a 8 year old. That was his life and he couldn’t change it. “I’m sorry you don’t have the relationship with them that you would like,” he said as he finished off the cup of Coca-Cola and pushed it Towards the edge of the table.

“I’ve lived a horrible life there, Dawn,” he spoke to her half seriously. His life has been pretty terrible but he keeps trying to turn it around. “Sitting with you has been a nice change in schedule though,” he said with a wink.

 

[Gothy]

As she devoured the rest of the chicken fingers, fully appreciating that salty-soggy flavour and texture that only came with greasy, fried food, she found herself thinking a moment. In the week before she'd dropped out, well, a lot of her friends had been less than the name would suggest. There had been no small degree of anger directed at her for being so immature and irresponsible, and even more directed at her for her decision. And when she'd gone home to explain -
well, there was a reason she was here and not there.

So, to Dawn, it had felt an awful lot like she deserved the ire she attracted, and also that she was now friendless. But, the auburn woman had to admit sitting here opposite the bartender she now knew as Mike, well, it was beginning to feel like she had a friend again. She took a huge sip of her drink, with a contented sigh. Perhaps it was silly, definitely it was presumptuous, but she felt at ease with him and found herself wondering if he would be working tomorrow. She opened her mouth to ask, but found herself unable to: it was too early, she was just a silly kid compared to him. She didn't want to overstay her welcome.

In a moment her heart sunk and she took another huge glug of coffee, mostly so that she could avoid looking across the table at her companion. It was then that he made his bad joke, and she couldn't help but laugh at how corny it was; both at, and with him.
"Damn, if that's the quality of your jokes keep it serious!" she grinned.
Over the course of the meal that familiar drunken dizzy warmth had subsided and now, she wasn't sober but she wasn't far off either. She still felt giddy, and bubbly. But there was enough of her now processing the situation, and her brain had started to whirl back in to action.

The way he looked at her. So intent. He was actually listening, and she felt as though he wouldn't judge her. Dawn knew he had said it, but sadly saying it and meaning it were two different beasts. But she looked into his eyes, and found herself seeing the truth of his words. Or, shit, maybe she was still drunk and didn't realise just how much. Also, she noticed with a bright blush, she was staring again. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable she nodded at his words.

"I think... what happened was my fault but my parents could have avoided it if they'd... told me some things". She was trying to skirt around the issue, without revealing just what it was, and the words she spoke were truth but no longer did her truths flow as easily as they had when she'd been more drunk. At his next words, she leaned forward and squeezed his hand in a way that she hoped was comforting, and she smiled kindly.
"Damn, that's awful. I can't imagine what that must be like... though if I don't see my mother again, it'd still be too soon!" she added with a wry smile.

Her hand, soft and warm, lingered a moment before she pulled back. She almost regretted pulling back as he declared that his life had been awful, and her smile turned into a frown.
" That's really sad. I hope things get better. If I get drunk tomorrow, I'll drink to that!"

The tiny voice in her head pointed out that it was less of an if, and more of a when. But she wouldn't be telling him that. She pushed her empty food containers to the edge of the table, next to Mike's, and stole a quick look at her watch. She found herself loathe to want to say goodbye to him, but it was getting late and the shower did beckon, and her hotel room was a ways across town. The woman frowned, then put her head on the table dramatically.
"Augh I've gotta walk back to my hotel. I should probably wrap up soon."

 

[BeautifulLoser]

To say he had a horrible life may have been melodramatic. At the end of the day, ultimately, he was still drawing breath. His friends, on the other hand, were not as lucky and they were all in a grave back in his small minded town. That being said, he felt as though he had gone through a few experiences that he would never wish on anyone else. Before the accident, he had been dropped off at the bottom of a hospital parking lot, friends too nervous to take him into the ER. His near death experiences didn't come from the car accident, but rather, whenever he was overdosing in stash houses with dirty needles. Not his finest moments but moments nonetheless.

He felt for the woman who seemed to be struggling, as he has seen his fair share of struggles on his ends. He's seen a lot of hurt come through his bar, but this woman was different. He felt a tug in his heart strings and felt his stomach twist in pain for her and he couldn't figure out why he felt this way for a complete stranger. Sure, they've spent a few hours together by now, but they were still strangers. He didn't know much other than her name and a few cryptic details. He didn't know her hometown or her favorite color - much like she didn't know his. It was strange how people came together like this. It made his heart feel a certain shimmer of hope that he couldn't put his finger on.

So whenever she began to talk about needing to walk home, he began to feel guilty. Even before the accident, he used to sleep on concrete floorings of stash houses and garages. He was dumped in parking lots while unconscious from overdose, and left to die on cement. Of course, her situation wasn't as dramatic, but even when he moved here - he was homeless for a long time. People weren't necessarily jumping to hire a guy with a shitty background or a non existant ID. It took him a long time to get in a good place again and it took him a few relapses to get clean. He felt for her in more ways then he could probably name, and his heart went out to her. He sucked in a breath before he spoke to her again.

"Well..." he began as he ran his fingers through his hair. "You could just spend the night at my place... if you wanted," he said to her. What in the hell was he doing right now? He couldn't name it. "In a respectful way of course... I don't want to offend you," he said with a nod of his head. "I just remember you saying you haven't had warm water or anything... I can't imagine you have a decent bed either," he sighed. "You'd be on my couch... but its clean and better than a hotel bedroom," he shrugged his shoulders. "You could shower and stuff...too," he offered.

"I'm not a killer or anything," he said to her. "I just... know how you feel," he said as he chewed on his lip. "And I know when I was in your position I would've jumped at any offer handed to me."

 

[Gothy]

At his words a bright blush spread across her olive cheeks, and her mouth shaped into an o, in almost a caricature of shock. For a scant moment, her mother's words echoed in her mind: "no daughter of mine will stay with a man, unmarried at that!" but that thought swiftly blew away with another gusting thought: "I've already let her down". Dawn closed her mouth, and then her eyes, remaining silent for a moment.

This man, almost a stranger save for a shared meal, had already been so kind to her. Was he really going to add another kindness to the list? She opened her eyes and looked into his. The young woman wasn't quite sure of what she saw in them, beyond an honesty she couldn't write off as false.

Before she could help herself a grin spread across her features and she, still under the influence of alcohol despite it all, threw her arms around him in an exuberant, fierce hug.
"Thank you. I don't know how to repay you, I-"

she stopped herself before she said something silly. He was right, she would have taken any offer thrown her way. Indeed, she had. But this time promised nothing but a couch and that was more than OK with her.

 

[BeautifulLoser]

Mike nodded his head, "Perfect," he said as he returned her hug with an equal squeeze of pressure. She was still slightly intoxicated and he wasn't about to send her into the streets to who knows what. He didn't really know the woman's story and he didn't know what kind of person she was - but he sensed a genuine soul. After all, he was just letting her sleep on his couch for a night.

Yeah, let a complete stranger know where you live, his inner demons lectured him.

He didn't know if he was supposed to continue with this small talk or if he was supposed to continue walking - so that was what he did. The sitting motion caused his bad leg to stiffen and he stood onto his legs, shifting once more to give the tired and exhausted leg a solid shake before he started to hobble just slightly. He'd get his legs back in just a few awkward hobbles and he'd be good as new, "Sorry," He apologized to her, "Just have a bit of a bum leg," he said with a sigh, "My apartment is actually right next to the bar so it's not far," he said to her.

"Nothing grand but... a hot shower and a warm apartment." he smiled, "All the blankets and pillows you want and no fear of bed bugs since I'm low key obsessed with keeping them way out of my zip code," he chuckled as he began to get his feeling back in his leg, his more steady limp returning as they pushed out into the streets again. "I promise I won't bother you like I am now though... you can stay as long as you need and I won't push one way or the other," he said as he moved into the cold streets. The cold would probably sober her up enough and then they'd just both go to sleep. A win win as he didn't work and had all the recovery time in the morning. Long shifts and long stretches of work equaled out to a very sore body that would need recharged. With that thought in mind he started to walk towards his apartment.

 

[Gothy]

Dawn watched him stand up, at first with curiosity and then with pity, and then finally that dawning realisation that she was yet again staring, so rudely. Especially considering what this man was doing for her. Except, she scolded herself, he wasn't just "that man" any longer, but neither was he a friend in explicit terms. Still, he had a name and she knew it, and he hers, and it was a start. Maybe a silver lining.

After he had stretched and stepped outside, she followed in kind. A hoodie, however, was not adequate protection against an open night's sky and the chill that often accompanied it and as she stepped out, she pulled her hoodie tighter around herself as though if it got closer she would get warmer.

After another moment of watching Mike she realised yet again that she was staring and quickly turned her gaze up to elsewhere. In this case, the stars in the night sky. Dawn was coming, but the sky was still dark enough and they were far enough out in the middle of nowhere that she could see the stars. Each, a bright pin prick. Each, a promise or a wish.

Another shiver wriggled up her spine and shook her out of her thoughts and premature stargazing. Instead, she turned to Mike and listened to him.
He really was a kind man. His words though, there was a sadness that tugged at her.
"you're hardly bothering me. You're the friendliest face I've seen in a couple weeks." she meant it. And, maybe it was the alcohol or maybe the loneliness, or maybe a mix of both, but she felt an affectation for him, an affection she couldn't quite place.
" long as you don't bother me in the shower, that is. No peeking there. Otherwise, bother away. I could do with some bothering, I reckon."
Another playful grin as she followed him as he walked, the slight sway in her gait diminishing with every step and every cold shiver.