The Not-So-Quite-Love-Story Story

Chapter 8- Somewhere along the road of no civilization

Too my lovely Cappuccinos, another update.

Clearly Unedited

And...Leggo!

Claris POV

Somewhere along the road of no civilisation was a bar which, just like the other building, was consumed by darkness and shrouded by trees. It was a hopeful indicator that we were getting closer and closer to a place composed of people rather than trees. I didn't think much of it after that. That was until Ethan to a weird and unexpected U-turn and suddenly we were parked outside the bar.

"Are you seriously stopping for a drink?" I asked.

"No. If you haven't noticed this place is full of people. People who know these parts and can direct  me to the main road so I can finally get rid of you" 

I felt extremely stupid after that.

Ethan got out of the car and started walking towards the bar. I scrambled after him and ended up flanking him sulkily. I don't know what it was, usually I never take Ethan's into such deep consideration as I did now because I always had a remark just a little bit better and funnier than his. His harsh tone left me tongue tied and I hated it.

The bar was called 'The Road House'. It reminded me of the saloons you'd see in a wild west film and the interior of the bar just enforced the theme. From the way the bartender was dressed, to the cigar-smoking men playing cards, the flirty waitress and the duke box playing music that sounded like it belonged in a completely different decade.

Ethan marched right up to the Bartender who was busy wiping the rim of his crystal Whiskey glasses. I didn't really think he was prepared for a very off-standish looking teenager with a bloody arm to be approaching him. 

"We're lost. Do you know the way back to the main road?" Ethan asked.

The bartender was a bit slow in responding. "So what if I do."- I saw his curious eyes scrutinise Ethan's bloody arm.-"What happened to your arm, boy?"

"None of your. Goddamn. Buisness"  Ethan growled slowly.

"It is my goddamn business" The bartender snapped back. "I can't have hooligans like you coming in here with a bloody arm, ruining business for me"

"Look,Old man: I couldn't give a flying fuck how my bloody arm is effecting your business, but if you don't give me the directions to the main road I swear by the Lord that brought me onto this Earth, I will be such a menace that these old asshat's grandchildren will never step foot in this place"

The Bartender looked like he was ready to piss himself as soon as Ethan referred to him as 'Old man'. It took me a while to realise that my jaw was literally hanging off its hinges. I was used to him talking like this to people, but it was usually more in more comical, arrogant and show-off-ish way. Not 

The Bartender regarded me. "You need to teach your boyfriend here some manners".

"He's not my boyfriend"

"She's not my girlfriend"

Ethan and I said simultaneously.

"Whatever" The Bartender said. He reached under his long desk and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. "I'm gonna draw you up a map and some instructions. Then I want you and your 'friend' to get out and never come back"

"Just bring a round of Vodka and I'll never make sure to come here in my time of need" Ethan added in faux sweetness. 

The Bartender muttered a long string of curses. He reached for a silver platter that sat on top of his large cabinet of alcohol and brought it down, arranging twelve shot glasses. The Bartender skilfully poured vodka into the shot glasses and carefully carried it over to Ethan.