Perry's POV
"One Bacardi lime cocktail." I heard the bartender say to someone, I wasn't really paying attention to what was going on around me.
My eyes could only focus on the bright lights that burned my vision; there were pools of shimmering gold and atomic tangerine. My mouth still ached like hell, like someone had repeatedly punched me.
"Can I get you anything sir?" the black haired second bartender asked me.
"Keep the whiskey coming." I replied, setting down my short glass cup. It thumped hard against the wood and the bartender shot me a nasty look. He sighed and returned back to the side of the bar, grabbing a bottle.
My mouth tasted sour, like someone shoved a handful of heart break down my throat. Blinkin' my eyes to rid myself of the lack of moisture in them, I lazily looked around the bar.
There were a few blondes in slinky, tight dresses that didn't rouse anything in me. They had no appeal to me, nothing at all. I was already dead in love with a blonde haired angel, who turns out to be taken.
"Another." I ordered the bartender.
"I'll have a beer." a feminine voice ordered from behind me. I picked up my now filled glass and took a short swig, silently seething inside.
I grabbed a few of the walnuts from a small brown wooden bowl, ignoring the little nut cracker as I crushed the walnuts in my hands, barely using any energy left in me. Small crunches and scrapes against my skin as the nuts turned to so little powder.
A head ache throbbed against my temples, ignoring it I took another drink of the cold whiskey. "More." I said, taping the glass. The bartender grabbed the same bottle and began pouring me another glass.
"Leave the bottle." I said impatiently, grabbing the whiskey glass bottle out of his hands. He threw me an annoyed look and pissed off.
"You're drinking an awful lot." Some voice observed. Without taking my eyes off the glass cup, "What's it to ya?" I replied.
"Oh, just that you're going to get alcohol poisoning or getting really wasted."
"That's what I plan to do."
"Seems stupid."
"You don't know shit about me, sweetheart."
"Whatever, you were warned cowboy."
Finishing off my cup, I unscrewed the bottle and took a nice long drink. The ice went down my throat like an avalanche; my tongue tingled from the sharp little stings of erupting taste.
"Another bottle." I ordered, the one in my hand was half empty. The bartender came round and shook his head at me. "I'm cutting you off."
"What the hell? Why?"
"You've had an alarming amount of alcohol already. No more." He said sternly, I frowned at him, rising up and reached into my pockets. I pulled out a couple of green notes and dropped them on the counter.
I walked out of the warm bar and out into the chilly open. I grabbed a cigarette from the pack and slowly slid it back into my pocket, horns blared around me, piercing my ear drums. Such loud screeches rang through around me.
There was broken glass on the pavement, little bright pieces of orange and green. I stepped over them and heard more crunches that didn't really alarm me.
What the hell am I doing here? I should be back on the ranch, taming the wild horses and pretending I'm not the least bit bothered by Shelly's engagement.
Damn it all to hell.
You think a girl would love you back, but no. She has to get married to the first asshole she sees in college. I should have been that first asshole. I was that first asshole.
"Get outta the way you drunk!" a splash against my chest and I felt the chilly contents drip down. "Oh dear," a voice behind me giggled, "that can't have felt great."
"No m'am, it didn't." I sighed as I swiped down my shirt. For fuck's sake I was covered in a mixed berry smoothie. Who the hell drinks a mixed berry smoothie at this hour?!
"Here, lemme help. I'll feel like a jerk if I don't." Turning my head to the side, I finally saw her. Hair that looked bluer than black shined high on her shoulders and almost to her hips. Then there was those beautiful pair of big, wide grey eyes that stared at me hopefully.
"Thanks." I found myself saying distractedly.
She smiled, plump lips twisting in a way that held my attention. Lord, she was beautiful. Wait...what the hell was I thinking? It's all this alcohol, messing up the way I'm thinkin'. She handed me a few tissues but I turned away from her in anger. What the hell? Why am I thinking about her? Why am I even acting this way towards her?
I think I had too much to drink.
"It's dangerous to be out here. There are perverts on the streets, y'know." I scolded her. What's wrong with this girl? No woman in their right mind would be out here walking alone near a dark alley.
"I also happen to have mace and can kick an ass or two if I have to." She retorted, shifting around me to wipe the fruity mess. I decided to stay still and let her wipe me down, enjoying the way her head bobbed down. Wait no, what the fuck am I thinking?!
"That's enough." I said to her roughly. The girl didn't know what she was doing to me. The mess she was wiping was dangerously close to my manhood. My shirt was now sticking to my skin in a way that had me cringing.
"Fine, whatever. Not like I was trying to help you or anything." The girl snapped at me, chucking the wet tissues into a bin. Clutching her jacket tighter, she angrily walked away from me.
"Wait," I winced. Damn it, why do I feel bad? "I'm mighty sorry." She stopped and turned around slowly, trying to hide her giggles. My face turned red. Did I say something stupid? I look pretty stupid.
"Did you just say 'mighty sorry'?" I nodded, perplexed. "Not much boys talk like that anymore." She smiled a little.
"Men," I corrected her. I was no little immature boy. "Anyway, what are you doing here?" I asked her curiously. She didn't look the Vegas type. For one thing, she still had her top on.
"I, ah... am just visiting. Well, more like road trippin'." She said quietly, shivering from the real cold breeze. A muscle in my mouth jumped; for some reason I didn't like seeing her all frozen up.
What the hell is goin' on with me?!
"Do you have a jacket or something?"
"Yeah it's in my Tardis." she said distractedly, glancing around. Her eyes observed the noisy street and a raindrop splattered in her left eye, making her wince. Stepping forward, I shrugged out of my jacket and threw it at her.
"Thanks," she glared as she caught it.Lips twitching she threw my warm jacket back at me and shook her head. "But no thanks."
"Why?" I asked her. "It's cold and gonna rain. Warm jacket, nice lookin' stranger. Good scene for a unforgettable night."
"Ha ha." Throwing me another dirty look, she walked on. Fighting back a smile I kept pace with her. "What's your name, darlin'?"
Her feet stamped against the pavement like an angry giant's. Even her breaths sounded angry. "It's fuck off asshole."
"Last name?" I asked, grinning at her.
"Eat your soul."
"Do you have a middle name?"
"Bleck Bleck."
I laughed. I actually laughed. Lord knows I wasn't in the mood for such a thing. "You're a funny woman." I said.
Her face screwed up comically and sneezed hard. "Bless you." "Robitussin." She said at the same time "Robitussin?" I asked. Wasn't that for coughs?
"Oh," she looked slightly flustered. "I say it when someone sneezes. I think its a fun way of saying that then Bless you."
"Right, okay." I looked away with wide eyes. Why the hell am I enjoying her company so much?! Get a hold of yourself Perry!
"Um, don't try anything on me. I'll kick you hard in the balls."Bleck Bleckwarned. She tried to sound strong but her voice shook slightly. Why was therea tremor in her voice? Why am I wondering why she sounds scared?
"Wouldn't dare dream of it," I smiled at her reasurringly.
"I mean it," she frowned. "I've heard stories of people spending the night here and waking up married to a complete stranger."
"Cool your aid." I said to her, stepping over a broken bottle of Russian vodka. The shards of green glass crunched to cinder under my feet.
"Did you just make a Kool-Aid joke?" she asked, laughing lightly.
My face flamed.
The sprinkling drops had now become heavier downpour. "In here." I said to her. It was a small diner, warm and welcoming. The white light strips glowed to the point of hurting my eyes. Wincing, I grabbed Bleck Bleck's arm ans steered her to the back, until I found an empty table.
"What can I get you, honey?" a middle aged waitress asked me. Her face was weathered but that didn't stop her from packing on the make up. Picking up the menu, I briefly scanned the options and chose at random.
"Turkeyburger and curly fries." the woman I walked in with said. She had been pursing her oddly arousing lips at the laminated menu. "Drink?" asked the waitress, hand poised on the writing pad. I didn't like the way the waitress was looking at the girl sitting next to me. She looked as if she wished she was throwing daggers at her. "Chocolate milkshake."
"Same for me." I said, briefly glancing at the waitress. Once she pranced off I finally stopped glancing around to prolong the moment before I'd have to look at her. "Weird night, huh?" I asked, grabbing a napkin out of the dispenser and wiped me shirt down roughly. Wiping away the smoothie mess always made it worse.
Sometimes I feel I've got to
Run away I've got to
Get away
From the pain that you drive into the heart of me
The love we share
Seems to go nowhere
"Nice song," I commented.
"Nah, sounds a bit too silky voiced for me." she said. "I'm Perry." I said at last. She looked up at me and half smiled, "Elisabetta."
I tipped my hat to her."That's a pretty name." Sounded Italian. "Thought your name would have been Puck, or Billy Jo, pretty boy." she said.
"Nice stereotypical names." I frowned at her. When someone sees a cowboy they automatically assume hill billy names. It was annoying.
"Don't get your Stetson in a twist." Elisabetta said, chuckling.
"Surprised that you know what it's called. Most just say 'cowboy hat'." I said, tapping on the table. There was a tall guy saying 'motherfucker' under his breath. I raised my eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh.
I love the people here in Vegas.
"Why are you here in Vegas?" Elisabetta asked me curiously. Turning my head to look at her I answered honestly. "Trying to forget about a bad day." The worst fucking day of my life.
Scratch that, I have seven months left until the official worst fuckin' day of my life happens. The day of her wedding.
"Ah, understandable. That's why I'm here." She said. Her eyes kept slashing around the diner, smirking at the 'motherfucker' guy. He was now muttering "Foil keeps the eggs yellow. Dildo douchebags, Gooliath fucker. It'll rain shoes." Elisabetta tried to muffle her laughs with her hand but that didn't work so well.
I felt my shoulder slightly loosen up. The tension I'd been carrying yesterday and most of today was wearing me down.
"Why are you looking so down, cowboy?"
"Huh? Oh I...just..."
"Was it a girl?" she asked.
"Yeah, a special woman," I answered slowly. I felt awkward, talking to a stranger about Shelly. "She's engaged to some prick."
"And you wish that prick was you." she finished off. The waitress finaly came around with our orders. She left without a word-thankfully-as we tucked in. Damn, curly fries are my favorite. Elisabetta was watching me eat with a grin.
"You look you're having an orgasm over curly fries." She explained.
"That's because I am."
Gulping in some more of that tasty chocolate milkshake, I found my headache from the alcohol fading away. "Milkshakes are good." she said.
"Turkey burgers are alright. Should of ordered steak."
"Should of, could of. Eat your burger and be happy."
The silence was only filled with the clatter of forks and knives, of the crazy guy's ramblings and tentive smiles. As I ate; I took notice of the diner. The walls were pure white, and the seats were red. The place actually looked good. Of course there were frames up on the walls of famous people who had come to this diner, like Sascha Baron Cohen, Tom Hardy, Kevin Bacon, Micheal Crawford and Sarah Brightman hung high with bright smiles.
The counters were this cream colour that looked shiny. Damn, I gotta get out more often.
"I told you my story, you tell me yours." I said to the woman who watched the world with inquisitve eyes. She drank the last of her beverage and looked at me with a half smile; a smile that tried to hide her vulnerability.
"I am-was-a ballet dancer. My mother...she...she didn't exactly support in my career. We had a fight and I packed my things, and as I walked out she told me to never come back."
"So you came to Vegas hoping to get a job as a show girl?" I might have sounded rude.
Her eyes flashed in annoyance. "No! A good friend told me Vegas was a great place if you wanted to forget about something."
"And you came on his recommendation?"
"Wow, that was a big word."
"Stereotypes."
"Right, sorry, anyway I knew a musical called Phantom of the Opera would be playing here so that just did it for me."
"That's actually a betta' reason than most. The usuals are only here to gamble, drink and get laid." I threw in the country twang just to make her smile. It worked.
Standing up, I threw another few bills on the table and pushed down on my Stetson. Elisabetta handed the waitress her money and walked right beside me as we ventured outside again. The rain was now a fine mist, a few sprinkles here and there.
Shivering, she wrapped her arms tighter around herself and walked a little more forceful in the cold. "Cold, ain't it?" I asked her, pointedly wrapping my jacker around myself tighter. She fake glared and let out a breath, and you could see the air coming out of her.
"Where do we go from here?" she asked the million dollar question.
I thought about it for maybe half a second.
"Let's get hammered."