Hey guys,
tonight this imagine is going to be a little more serious. With everything going on in the world, I don't want to put a political view on it. I want to put my humanity view on it. We must realize that we're lacking it. Our Humanity.
So, tonight. For everyone who has lost someone in more ways than one, whether it be to gun violence, terrorism, vile acts of assault, etc. This is for you.
You wiped down the bar as Eran, another bartender, came back from his break. You smiled pleasantly and handed him the rag. He gave you a flat glare and snatched it from you.
"If I gave you a straw, would you go suck the fun out of someone else's day?" He snorts sarcastically, draping it over his shoulder. You grinned deviously, a playful gleam dancing in your eyes.
"Why would I want to do that? With me around, everything is a wild ride." With a wicked smile on your lips, you wink at him and round the bar. You glanced to the clock, then back to Eran. "Hey, it's karaoke night, right?"
Eran looked at the board, then glanced back at you with a curious expression. "Yeah, but no one has started for the night. Are you about to go up there?"
Nodding, you beamed a bright smile at him. "Hell yeah. If it runs a little longer than expected, cover me."
"You're worried about not making it back from you break on time?" He asked dryly. "You own the place. You're my boss!"
Rolling your eyes, you sashayed up to the stage with a trace of a laugh on your lips. "Shut your face, Eran."
Jensen and Jared pushed the door open, entering your bar, Wolf Spirits. It was an old fashioned, hole in the wall, down to earth kind of place. People became regular patrons and regular patrons became family. They made their way to the bar, a rich dark mahogany oval structure with an above structure in the same fashion. The shelves of liquor were placed on the wooden structure in the middle, while coolers of beer were just behind the bar top and build into the lower counter. Tables were placed openly between the bar and booths, giving it a more organized and inviting environment.
Jensen placed his jacket on the back of his stool, turning his gaze slowly about the space as he sat. "This is a nice place. How come we've never been here before?"
"Because we're always busy with work or with family." Jared laughed huskily, shaking his head. He watched as Eran walked over and stopped in front of them. He smiled warmly at them.
"What kind of spirits can I start you boys off with?" Eran asked cheerfully. Glancing between them, he furrowed his brows. "Aren't you guys the actors from Supernatural?"
Jensen hung his head, laughing lowly. "Yeah, man."
"Do- Do you want an autograph?" Jared asked nervously. Eran laughed robustly then, suddenly beaming with humor.
"No, no. Not for me at least." He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the bar. He quickly glanced to you, noticing as you were still hooking up the system. "Y'all see the little lady up there on stage?"
Jared and Jensen leaned back in their seats, brows raised as they gazed at the stage. You had been hooking up some cords, switching on amps and stereos, and occasionally making easy conversation with a few patrons. The boys leaned back forward, serious expressions etched into their features.
"You have my attention." Jensen drawled out slowly, his southern accent thick with curiosity. Eran let out a gruff laugh, carding his fingers through his messily mused hair. "She's a huge fan. If y'all could stay until after her performance and talk to her, hell, you'd make her night." He looked down, sighing heavily. Jared and Jensen exchanged worried gazes. "I only say this because I care, but, [Reader] has been acting differently. Distant. Like something has been weighing on her chest. But, she's stubborn- as a bull, might I add."
Jared, without missing a beat, grinned wickedly. "Yeah, no problem at all!"
"Hey, making pretty girls smile is what we do." Jensen chuckled, smiling warmly. Eran slid them a couple of beers and pointed toward the stage, where you had finally picked up the acoustic guitar that had been hooked up to the amp.
You pulled the strap over your head, adjusting the instrument in your lap as you sat down on the stool. Strumming the strings, you tuned the guitar and proceeded to lower the microphone. You smiled brightly at the patrons down in front and waved. Slowly turning you gaze around, you noticed two new silhouetted figures at the bar. Your body relaxed, you leaned forward slightly. "Good evening, guys. How's everyone doing?"
"Pretty damn great. Especially now that our favorite is on stage." A female patron laughed gracefully, despite her drunken stupor. A man at a table next to hers laughed gruffly. He was an older man, no later than his sixties, with graying brown hair and hazel eyes. His once defined profile had gone soft with age and his form had became more pudgy.
"My favorite piece of eye candy, too."
You huffed out a short laugh, grinning wickedly. "Danny, I'm gonna light a fire under your ass and then I'm gonna tell your wife to knock some sense into you."
Danny threw his hands up in mock surrender and gave you an innocent smile. "Alright, alright. Just don't tell Mary Ann that I'm here again."
Laughter filled the bar at the joking banter, the pleasant and warm sound filtering through the crowd. You sighed softly, a serene smile sweeping your features. When they had calmed, you spoke with a voice that conveyed all seriousness and sincerity.
"With everything that has been going on lately in the world, I've been a little more heavy hearted. It is not a gun issue," You said somberly, strumming the cords softly. "It's a humanity problem. In the last thirty years, violence has suddenly all we have seen on our TV screens, in our schools, our games and our actions. But, we forget one important thing for the sake of our pride. Our humanity. We forget our humanity." Swaying slowly, you tilted your head as you casted your gaze to the guitar. "I find myself asking myself Why? Why does it have to be this way? It doesn't have to be. Yet, we boost our ego and our prides for the sake of "We're great" or simply, "We're better than everyone else, we have the right and say so. Entitled, even." " You shook your head frivolously. "No. No, we are not. We can be the change we want to see in this world."
Jared and Jensen exchanged glances and moved to the end of the bar, facing the stage. You glanced up and looked back to the crowd. You smiled tightly as you spoke again. "For the ones who lost someone and are getting back on your feet, my heart goes out to you."
You strummed the opening chords to "Zombie" by The Cranberries. In the next moments, your smoky voice filtered throughout the bar. "Another head hangs lowly. Child is slowly taken. And the violence causes silence. Who are we mistaken? But you see, it's not me. It's not my family, in your head. In your head, they are fighting. With their tanks and their bombs, and their bombs and their drones. In your head, in your head, they are crying."
You let your voice go silent for a moment, the guitar chords slowly fading out before you picked up the tempo and your smoky, lilting voice filled the room once more. "What's in your head, in your head? Zombie, Zombie, Zombie-ie-ie? What's in your head, In your head? Zombie, Zombie, Zombie?"
Jensen leaned forward, completely entranced in your performance. Jared stared at you in an awestruck manner, tears in his eyes. He blinked them back and continued to watch you. "Another mother is breaking. Heart is taking over. When the violence causes silence, we must be mistaken. It's the same old theme in two thousand eighteen. In your head, In your head, they're still fighting. With their tanks and their bombs, and their guns and their drones. In your head, in your head, they are dying. What's in your head, in your head? Zombie, zombie, zombie. What's in your head, in your head? Zombie, Zombie, Zombie. What's in your head, in your head? Zombie, Zombie, zombie."
The music slowed, the patrons clapping in rhythm to the beat of the song. You stood from your stool, grabbing the microphone stand with both hands. You leaned over to a stand, pressing the button for a recording you made for this performance, a lilting tune and softer when it came to the chords played over the speakers. You inhaled, only to sigh heavily. "It's the same old theme, in twenty thousand eighteen. In your head, in your head, they're dying. What's in your head, in your head? Zombie, Zombie, zombie." With a voice barely above a whisper, you sung the last line like it was like it was a prayer on your lips. "What's in your head, in your head?"
The patrons in your bar erupted into cheer and muffled crying, realizing the impact you meant for this night. You smiled tearfully, walking off the stage after placing the guitar back on the stand and heading back for the bar. Walking around the corner and standing before Eran, you gazed up at him emptily. He raised his brows expectantly, wiping a tear from your cheer.
"Cheer me up with a pick me up. I've got spirit, but a girl could always use some spirits." You leaned your head against his chest as he folded you into an embrace, cooing to you softly.
"You poor creature." He chuckled gruffly. "You poured your heart out. Will your whiskey make it better?"
Pulling away, you grinned impishly. "You know me so well, dear one."
Jared and Jensen laughed at the banter, causing your eyes to go wide. Jensen leaned over to Jared, a shit eating grin plastered on his profile. "She's so cute. And tiny. You just kind of want to put her in your pocket and take her home."
Eran threw his head back in laughter with Jared, their robust laughter causing you to look at Eran with a slight panic. He turned you toward them, your jaw going slack as they waved at you with warm smiles. You tilted your head to the side, a calculating gaze in your eyes as you looked between them.
"I don't know whether to cry, laugh, or scream." You pursed your lips together, brows furrowed. "Or all three."
"Pick one. All three will make you look crazy, love." Eran gruffly called out as he went to go grab a bottle of top shelf whiskey. You glared at his retreating form and then tilted a serene smile at the boys.
"Hiya boys." You held out your hands to them, Jared and Jensen grasping them tightly. "It's nice to meet you and welcome to Wolf Spirits. The name's [Reader]."
"That performance was amazing." Jensen spilled, leaning forward as an eager grin swept over his features. "I didn't think someone so young even knew that song."
You shake your head ruefully, laughing softly. "My dad used to play a Cranberries CD when I was growing up. It felt right to sing it, so I did."
"I think you've impacted a lot of people's lives tonight." Jared commented sincerely. "And what you said before, you're right. There's a lot of people out in the world who have forgotten their humanity. People are the way that they are because we don't trust in each other or believe in each other like we used to."
Eran placed the bottle in your hands, a black cherry and rose petal with a hint of honey. He leaned down and kissed your cheek. "We call her the cheerleader for a reason."
"Cheerleader?" Jensen drawled out, cocking his head to the side. You smiled bashfully then, your cheeks heating up at the sudden full attention.
"Uh, yeah. The Cheerleader." Clearing your throat, you held his gaze. "As Eran told me, 'I'm the beacon of light in the dark, saving people who are lost and who have given up. I boost their morale in hopes they will still fight. Because, I believe in everyone.'"
"And you know damn well, that I am right." Eran gave you a pointed gaze, smiling victoriously. You roll your eyes, shaking your head incredulously.
"If I roll my eyes any harder, I could check out my own ass." You muttered playfully. Grinning impishly, you grabbed three glasses. "Don't you have patrons to tend to?"
Eran smiled deviously. "I can check out your ass for you. But, yeah, boss. I'm on it."
Jared gave you an impressed gaze, nodding approvingly as Eran worked his way around the bar. "Boss?"
You laughed huskily, pouring the whiskey into the glasses. "I own this bar, along with a brewery and a coffee shop that's next door." You slid a glass to Jensen and Jared, then popping the cork back into the neck of the bottle. You watched as the boys eyed the drinks, Jensen shrugging and taking a sip. Jared downed the drink, coughing from the strong burn that warmed his chest.
Jensen smacked his lips together, tilting an intrigued expression to you. "Is-is that a rose aftertaste?"
You beamed brightly at him, leaning against the bar. "It sure is. This bottle right here, is my very first whiskey I've ever made. It aged for almost a year, making it full bodied and smoky. The rose aftertaste makes it exquisite."
"That was delightful." Jared and Jensen chimed, astonished, sliding their glasses back to you. You downed your drink, then poured another round for you three.
The night was spent chatting, sharing stories, and passing jokes with sly comments to go with them. You had exchanged numbers with both of them, telling them to let you know when they were in town again. The night rolled on, you three eventually hammered.
You turned to Eran, the bar nearly empty, the boys laying with their heads on the counter or propped up. "Hey. Cheerleader is white girl wasted and she needs help carrying these two lugs over to the coffee shop."
Eran gave you an exasperated glare. "I don't trust you to even work the coffee machines right now." He sauntered over to you, grabbing your shoulders. He lead you around the bar and to a stool next to Jensen. Before you sat down, Jensen grabbed you and pulled you into his lap. Eran looked at you warily. "Or that works, too. Hold on to her for a moment while I get the big guy over to the shop."
"I can do that." Jensen chuckled huskily, lowly. You glanced at him in your peripheral, then gave his a devilish smile. You leaned into him as he wrapped his arms around you.
"You know what we should do?"
Jensen squinted his eyes at you, then smiled slowly. Eran froze, finally getting Jared situated with his full weight on him. He glanced at you two, eyes wide with panic. "No, don't even think about it, [Reader]!"
Too late. You were already conspiring, whispering in Jensen's ear and causing him to chuckle rustically. You hopped out of his lap, then grabbed his hand as he stood. You both bolted through the bar and disappearing through the door. Eran sighed in annoyance, then glanced to Jared, who stared at the door in disbelief. "Please say he won't do anything stupid."
Jared looked down to the bartender, pursing his lips together. "We should go after them."
"Taco trucks first." Eran grunted, shaking his head disdainfully.