Symphony of Desire [Mature] ✔️

Chapter Thirteen

"I know you've been hurt by someone else. I can tell by the way you carry yourself. If you let me, here's what I'll do, I'll take care of you." ~Take Care, Drake feat. Rihanna

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"Are you sure you want another one, sir?" the bartender warily asked Andray, whose head was slumped down the bar.

With squinted eyes, Andray regarded the bartender and said, "Yes." He drove to Acropolis in hopes that he could have a few beers with Fred and hopefully, a conversation with his friend. Unluckily, the bartender informed him that Fred's not in the club tonight and will be returning next week. He settled on a bar stool and eventually, a bottle of beer became glasses of Scotch and then shots of tequila.

"But sir it looks like you've had enough," the bartender replied.

"Just get me a damn shot!" Andray barked. The bartender followed his instructions and wordlessly handed him a new shot of tequila.

Andray downed the contents in one gulp, his face scrunching at the burning sensation of the alcohol down his throat. He set the glass down the bar, carefully lining the little glass along with the rest he has emptied. He squinted his eyes and tried to count the glasses before him, cursing when he failed to do so because he was seeing double already. Placing a bill under a glass, he grasped the sides of his aching head and closed his eyes, the loud music in the club only worsening the pounding in his head. He fished for his phone from his pocket and successfully unlocked it after a few tries. He frowned at his screen, his vision so blurred he can't even make out the letters. He tapped his fingers at random and the phone emitted the faint sound of ringing. Sighing, he put down his phone on the table and bent his head down, looming over the phone.

"Hello? Hello?" he heard a small voice say. "Huh?" he mumbled. He raised his head up and looked from left to right and saw no one speaking to him.

"Andray? Andray, answer me!" the small voice said again. Confused, he looked under the bar stool and almost fell face-down. He heaved himself up and put his head down on the table again. "My head hurts," he mumbled.

"Sir? I think it's time for you to go home. I could call you a cab," the bartender said.

"No, I'm good," he replied. Seeing that his phone was still lit, Andray fumbled with it and completely turned it off, shoving it back to his pocket. He sat up straight and huffed, slapping his cheeks to stay awake.

"Hello, handsome," a sultry voice said from behind him. He turned around and saw a voluptuous redhead smiling at him. From what he could make out with his blurry vision, the redhead was wearing a skin tight silver dress.

"Hello," he mumbled back. He should be excited right now like how any red-blooded man would feel when a vixen as voluptuous as this woman was approaching him but no, he felt nothing. Damn, he mentally cursed to himself, it's because of that raven-haired minx. He smiled at the thought of the said raven-haired minx and it seemed that the redhead misunderstood that the smile was for her. She took a seat on the bar stool beside Andray and leaned on the bar, seductively smiling at him.

"Got company, handsome?" the redhead purred.

"Ehm, no," he replied, resting his chin on his hand to prevent his head from dropping. His eyes shot up to the redhead when her hand strayed to his thigh. She only smirked at him.

"My name's Ashley," she said, her fingers lazily tracing circles on his thigh. It doesn't feel good, but it's not bad either. In fact, he felt nothing for the voluptuous redhead in front of him.