Boulevard Of Broken Dreams [ Wattys 2015 ]

II - "Nice eyes..."

"Mary! Come on." I shouted as I stuffed my hands into my pockets and crawled in the chair.

"Jesus, Demi! I told you, I can't. I'm sorry!" She yelled from the coffee maker.

"After the hundred times I've saved your as s?" I yelled back.

Suddendly the  door bell rang and she ran to the new customer.

I whined at myself, looking down to my shoes. I seriously needed new ones. The fabric was getting lighter and the plastic bands were starting to get old and nasty to look at.

I still remember when I ombre dyed them, thinking they would turn out so cool and what really came out was just a horrible mess.

Just like my hair, I thought to myself as I looked at the ends of it. The lavender had faded and now the ends were almost silver. I needed to stop treating my hair like a chameleon. They have gone from super light blonde to dark red, black to brown and pink to blue.

Are my hair Skittles? Cause they've sure tasted all the colors of a rainbow.

After letting out a grumpy sound I lazily stood up, my head still arched to my back, my mind super bored as usual and walked to reach Marc at his usual table.

"Demi, it's been two months and you haven't changed your hair. Anything wrong?" Marc smiled under his glasses, still gazing at the newspaper.

"Shut up." I spat at him lightly poking his arm.
He was such a joker.
I had almost arrived the door when I heard his voice again.
"Good night, Marc." he mimiced my voice, finally looking at me.

I let out a small giggle and approached him, hugging him from behind.

"Good night. I still love you very much. Thanks for everything."

He kissed my forehead and faced me, a smile on his tender face.

"You can have a break tomorrow if you want?" He almost asked.
He must have heard the conversation before. And yeah, he was right, I had been working over shifts all the week, but I didn't feel like staying home. I wasn't in really good terms with my mom.

"No, no problem. I can make it." I lied instead.

"I'm serious. You need it." he insisted. "Demz, if there's anything wrong just tell me."

Maybe I should just tell him, I thought to myself.

"It's my mom." I gulped down. "She started the.. You know, thing, all over again. I just don't feel like going home."

I felt embarrased. After my dad died my mom started dating several men, like; twenty men in just a month. Everybody had a bad thought of her. Some even said she was a ... Whore.

Marc was just the bar holder, but he was also the one who looked after me after what happened. He always understood me. And took good care of me unlike my mother.

"You can stay by my place. I'm all day out so you can have some time to clear your mind." he comforted me as he noticed my silence. Damn, he was so nice. 

"N-" I protested but I was soon hushed.

"Come on, I know you want this. Don't worry, ok?" He hugged me tight patting my back.

"Thanks, you're the best." I smiled.

"No prob. Tell your mom the news and come at anytime you want. I'm giving you a hall pass for the week. Don't worry nothing will be cut from your pay." he smiled and my eyes lit up.

"Thanks, OMG, thanks a lot. I really mean it. I'll pay you back."

He nodded at me and looked back at his newspaper.
Excited, I exited the place and the cold air hit my face. Damn I should have brought a jacket or something.

I walked my way home. As always, passing by my favorite boulevard.

From a club near there, four drunk teenagers walked out, laughing senselessly at nothing. How wonderful people these days. And what a good way to spend your free time.
Nah I wasn't much of a party person.

A very tall slim guy passed over them, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his big black coat, full open so I could notice the oversized sweater even though the street lights that night were almost out. He had dark curls fluffing out of his light pink beanie. He looked sexy, though odd. But still sexy.

"Ha..Harry you bitch, come back here and let's make out!" a girl from the group slurred the words, then fell on the ground.
So his name was Harry.. Quite not fitting for his preferences.

The tall guy kept his gaze, turning to my side of the road. Forced,  I focused myself on the girl trying to avoid getting lost by staring at him. He was oddly nice to stare at. He had quick steps, as I found myself only inches away from him. I noticed by my wonderful side view skills that he was staring at my hair, raising a brow. Why do people even do that.

I turned to face him, giving him the death glare so he could just stop staring at me, but it didn't work, I ended up meeting eyes with him and cursed myself.

He had green emerald eyes. God he was really, really hot. He flashed a small devilish, yet hot smile at me and kept staring. I looked away, acting bored.

"Nice eyes." He said after walking past me.

Nice eyes? No really? My eyes are dull brown what's so pretty in them?  I looked back and saw him get inside a black massive car, probably a Range Rover or a Hummer, couldn't notice it very well.
What a strange person.