runaway

PROLOGUE

The regulars watched with fixation as she readjusted the hem of her tight red dress from where it had ridden up during the walk here and fluffed her hair, frizzed and waved from the rain, which covered her in a damp, glistening coating. She brushed a strand from her eyes to observe the group of older men, deteriorated gentlemen, huddled together with glory long faded and greatness long diminished. She could see their fate in just that one glance and quickly turned towards the opposite end of the bar. What she failed to anticipate was the young man still sat three stools from the end.

Her eyes narrowed in curiosity at the outsider, and she could not help but make note of the dark circles under his sunken eyes and the way he kept chewing the inside of his cheek and the slight tremor in his hand when he raised the glass to his lips and took the last sip. Then, without warning, without consent, she approached him, the regular, the only one who didn't bother to lift his head from his hunched over state at the sound of the bell.

"I'll have two of whatever he's having," she told the bartender, nodding towards the hunched over young man radiating despair. The bartender looked at her for a moment, confused. But, she offered him that red lip smile painted in innocence and incentive that no one has yet to find a way to turn down. If anything, the faintest flash of color in his cheeks when he nodded in compliance was a hardly shocking response. He turned away to collect the drinks while she in return claimed the fourth stool from the end.

The regulars still stared at her while she sat, curious and confused. It took a glance over her shoulder towards them before their staring streak finally broke, and they turned towards one another, chatter filling the bar once more. Even with her now sat directly beside him, the young man hunched over the counter failed to look up, to acknowledge the newcomer. Not even when she cleared her throat or when James set a new glass before them. At this she could not help but laugh, a sound so beautiful it peaked his attention, though motivated him not enough to lift his head quite yet.

"Is this how you treat everyone who buys you a drink?" she finally said.

At this, he stilled with his hand raised and glass in tow. He looked up at her, acknowledged her, with wide eyes at the foreign tint in her voice, the chaos in her eyes, and that infamous red lip smile. Taken aback, he stumbled over himself before managing to say, "You're a long way from home, love."

"Only a couple thousand miles; nothing too extreme," she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Well, what the fuck are you doing here?" he asked

"What? Am I supposed to go to another shitty bar and buy another heartbroken man a drink?" she asked.

"I'm not heartbroken," the young man said, taking a sip of the drink she bought him, the tremor in his hand returned.

The young woman chuckled. "Sweetheart, I specialize in heartbreak, and you are in deep."

"You specialize in heartbreak?"

"Only in the worst possible way."

The proud smile she bore at her declaration almost made him smile, almost made him chuckle. Almost. Dreary drowned them out just as they began to emerge.

"So, tell me. Tell me all about it. Tell me your deepest, darkest secret," she said, twisting in her stool and propping her arm on the bar, fully facing him with every ounce of her attention.

The young man shook his head and took another drink. He set the glass down and stared at the bottom of it like it held the past he longed to come back. If only the past was not a dream longed for but a dream achieved.

"There's only one person I've ever truly, genuinely loved," the young man confessed, his eyes never leaving the past. She even almost saw the remnants of a smile when he said, "She was so beautiful." The young woman felt the image form in her head, the faceless outline of a beautiful woman, someone so worth loving. But, as quickly as the image formed, as quickly as the remnants of a smile formed, all was faded, diminished with a simple, "Then, I woke up one morning, and she was gone."