Hello everyone! Thank You for reading my book. This will be my take on a k-drama, sort of kind of. It's slightly more American. But still, I hope you like it. :)
Chapter 1: Now the Jingle Hop Has Begun
He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake, he knows if you’ve been bad or good so be good for goodness sake…
Oh gosh this song is annoying. I mean, can one guy really do all of that? It’s enough that he knows whether I’m naughty or nice but now he knows when I’m sleeping too? Gosh, talk about being spread too thin. Ha-ha “thin”, Santa’s not thin. I’m not gonna lie, this song used to get me… still does, to be completely honest but what am I supposed to do when it’s Christmas break and I’m alone… again? Don’t worry, I already have the answer to that. Drink, that’s what you do. Right? That’s what they do in the movies. You know, to get courage or something? Maybe I’ll find my Ryan Gosling, maybe I won’t. But I’m still going to do it. Maybe. I sighed. Oh Santa, why is this place so intimidating? Is it because it’s a bar and everybody inside are probably zombies or is it because I’m under-aged and technically not allowed to drink yet?
I looked up towards the sky for strength and took a deep breath, cool air filling my lungs as I tried to muster up the courage to take a step forward. It was dark out, the stars barely visible through all the smog and lights of the city. I shook my head, all of my wild curls hitting my face as I stomped around in a circle my hands so tight I could feel my skin through the striped fabric of my mittens.
I stopped and tried to seem normal as an older couple walked by. I smiled politely at them as they stared at me judgmentally shaking their heads in disappointment with the youth of these days. That’s literally what I heard them say: “The youth these days”, who does that?
When they were far enough to be out of ear shot, which wasn’t far I might add, I sighed, “Self-righteous **** ** ******.” I shook my head, cutting my eyes in their direction. Calm down, Lucky, no need to curse the elderly.
My shoulders sagged as I looked back toward the tall, red brick and mortar building in front of me. There were two large windows next to the glass door and yellow light streamed out to the sidewalk from the glow of their cheap bulbs. From outside you could see a chair and circular table in front of the left window and the right one had what looked like coats pressed up against it. The door had a “We’re Open” sign stuck on it followed by their time slots. I looked up at the name of the pub; “Bob and Apples’ Bar and Pub” was carved into a wooden plaque in curly letters and painted gold. Seemed harmless enough and it had gotten rave reviews from friends, though most of them are older than me and therefore allowed to drink here.
A black car passed behind me and an icy draft caressed my face, reminding me that it was -0 degrees outside and I should not be standing outside in a school girl skirt and stockings like it’s the middle of August. So when the door opened and the bell rang as a laughing couple came outside with large smiles and a dazed look of new love in their eyes, I cringed inwardly but took that sudden sense of jealousy, did a little dance, my boots clicking softly on the cement and ran in, the door closing shut behind me.
The sound of good old fashioned drunken laughter and cheering with the faint underlining of jazz filled my ears as I stepped inside, it was a welcome replacement from the Christmas music coming from the speakers outside. It smelt strangely of cranberries and sweat as I looked around. My wide, brown eyes feasted on all of the various colors and people as I realized something—they were all so normal. The tall guy with the pot belly and plaid shirt with mustache-clad lips wrapped around a tilted beer bottle could easily be the UPS man or, a killer. I narrowed my eyes and scanned the area. There was a large, wooden bar in the center of the room with bottles and bottles of alcohol all the way up to the ceiling. Chairs and round tables filled the empty space around the bar and there was a television mounted on the ceiling playing a soccer match. People cheered, arms flailing and bodies rubbing together. This explained the sweaty smell that nearly dominated the establishment.
YOU ARE READING
Getting Lucky (A K-Drama Inspired Story)Teen Fiction
19-year-old, holiday-loving Lucky Anderson is a regular Cindy Lou when it comes to Christmas until this holiday season when she comes down with a bad case of loneliness and on a whim “sneaks” into a bar to forget her sorrows. There she drunkenly mee...