Her...
" Would you like another shot of tequila, miss? "
The boy with the curly hair asks behind the counter. He has dashing green eyes, capturing everything around him like a magnet. If you only dare to look a bit closer, you'll see the deep, painful nothingness of his pupils as they stare at your dead and dull eyes, actually not giving a damn if you want a drink or not.
It's just his job, he gets the pay, but from afar, those eyes look real, rare, raw. Like they could make you smile.
I've heard that question once or twice this evening though. Oh, but that must mean that he cares whether I have a drink or not. He's different, he cares.
To his dismay, I don't plan on being blackout drunk tonight, not surprised if I end up that way, but I'm not one to drink when there isn't a reason to. Smith's out of jail because he wasn't accused of manslaughter like I thought he would be. It made me rethink about the burning car, the crash. The flames engulfed my eyesight for the whole day. I hate the memory of it. I hate the feeling that overtakes me when I think about that night.
I have to get to my house though, precisely my house because no-one could call that cold wood-celler a home. There wouldn't be anything drawing me to it, except for one tiny toddler fist-sized heart beating in between the cracked walls and crooked fence.
I wipe my mouth clean, probably wiping off all the cheap makeup I have on my lifeless face before I answer the barman.
" I'm good. "
I discard the drink and wave him off as he gives me a shrug. The poor boy really wanted to spike my drink and rape me after so I couldn't walk for a week.
Yet, the boy seems way too innocent and even my mind can't make him look dangerous enough for me to believe my theory. The boy behind the counter looks far too familiar for such an act of cruelty.
Ben.
A little chipped and dirty name tag reads. The most casual and lame name I've heard this century, but honestly, it's a good break from all the other ones.
Ben is a name I would give a bald man who works at a gas station far away from town, who occasionally spits in a rusty bucket, if it would be up to me I'd call him something more exotic. But Ben is fine for the time being.
" Ben, have you seen anyone fancy in this club?"
" I should probably direct you towards a mirror, miss." His dimples show when he smiles.
" Well, aren't you just sweet? So flattering of you to say." Sarcasm dripping from my lips.
" Look at Tiffany over there, her tight dress and beautiful long legs." Ben gives me a sly chuckle as he wipes the glass clean. I know she's too wild for him.
" Not really my type, miss."
" So you would rather spare your glares at Lucas and his tight jeans and shirt? I mean the hunk looks dashing, no wonder everyone likes him so much. Don't get excited down there though, I hear you're a closet case." I point to the bar as he falls silent looking at me, holding the glass.
" Or, you know if not Lucas. Then, have you at least met any other cute guys around here? Preferably straight or bi for me. But hey, if you want to hit someone before me you do you. "
I grab a cup of soda from behind the bar and drown it. Ben just stands there, staring at me as he analyses my words. The purpose of my question toward Ben was simple. I wanted to be entertained, I wanted to make sure I knew who he was and I wanted to embarrass him. Have a little fun, whilst being sober, that's a challenge.
Ben's been gay for as long as the world was round and the sun was yellow. Now, people could fight me on that but I beg to differ. He was basically born labeled gay. I'm not a big fan of putting people into boxes, hell I don't even know what I want out of life or where I stand.
It just fascinates me, how he thinks he has it under control and that he knows what he's doing about it. But he has slipped up occasionally, thinking no one notices. I saw him flirting with a book-nerd a few weeks back.
Ben's cheeks start to slowly redden, but mainly he looks confused and concerned, trying to figure out how I knew. I mean how could it be, that a blonde outsmarted one of the Montgomery boys.
" What do you mean, miss? Is your first instinct to assume a person's gay when they don't answer your question within a ten seconds span?"
Ben stutters looking at me. A minor slip up, as his pupils start to shake and his hands start to move faster, his posture is on alert and he seems more woken up than before.
Ben wipes the glass for the seventh time now, his eyes searching for something, anything to focus on besides the glass, me, or Lucas. The latter he seems to have a problem with.
" I know you're 'a friend of Dorothy', you don't have to get so pissy. It's the twenty-first century, try to find me someone who isn't." My mouth inside the cup as I speak.
" You're gay Ben. Big whoop. Now cry or do something dramatic so I have my fun." He starts to laugh as the blush slowly starts to fade.
" Sorry, I really don't know what you're talking about. I suppose you had one too many shots, miss."
I smile at him to reassure him perhaps. Although, I don't think that was a fitting smile for that. It was more of a grin, looking devilish and with a second meaning, something deeper than comfort and I'm positive he noticed.
" Ben, you're really not playing that card are you? Pushing it back? Really? I thought you were better than that." The straw inside the cub twirls around, as I push it with my finger.
" You can't just go around making that statement to just anyone. Calling people gay? You above everyone else should know It's a rough side of town, no? You'd get beaten up If I wasn't such a gentleman." He yelled over the music.
" Please, we all know the Montgomery boys are nothing but trouble. I'm just waiting for you to run to daddy." I lean in.
" You should really get home soon, you seem too drunk. Do you want me to go fetch you a cab perhaps ?"
" That's right, I heard your brother's out of jail. How's he been now?"
He raises his index finger, to tell me to shut up, which isn't the nicest. Yet, in his state, me calling him out, he still has charm and is caring. Although actors are everywhere these days and even a snake looks like a twig sometimes.
" I do know that I'm drunk, but dear Ben there are much more efficient and polite ways to make me shut up." I raise my voice. " Shoving your finger in someone's face isn't one of them. I'm sure daddy wouldn't like it."
I play with the straw in my drink as he looks at me from under his lashes. There's something about making people uncomfortable, that is so satisfying.
" Hey, what did you say to him?"
A deep voice sounds from the dark. They must have spotted the grimace on Ben's face and felt the need to save the day.
I roll my eyes and turn around on the barstool, facing the clićhe scene happening behind me. Surely enough, I'm met face to face with Mr. What Did You Say. Smith Montgomery. I bat my eyelashes and stare at him shamelessly, biting my colored black nails when I take in the view.
He doesn't look half bad. He does remind me of good old Ben. Sharing the same swamp-like green eyes and diamond-shaped face. Even their hair is the same shade of copper. But he's more masculine, intimidating, dangerous, and visibly older. He doesn't have the curls as prompt as Ben and he doesn't have the stance, the swirls of dark in his eyes like Ben does.
And to think, two years back we went to the same high school, we sat at the same lunch table, we went to the same parties, hung out with the same crowd. And today, he doesn't even recognize me after he graduated and I went on a break. Oh, how times have changed for the Montgomery boys over the years. Of course, then they were just Gomery's. Now with daddy gone, grandpa has to deal with things.
" Is this your brother or your friend? "
I point at Ben. I'm not playing dumb I just want to jog his memory, I mean he has to remember me the way I can't forget him.
I jump down from my stool, trying to balance on my heels. When I stare at the hulk standing in front of me. He's bigger and bulkier than an oak. He has really wide shoulders. His face seems rough, torn up, and tired. He doesn't have the looks, but he has the body of a killer.
Catching my eyes is his chain and earrings. Must be a meaning or something, Ben has the same ones around his neck and ears. Like they have had for many years. It must be nice having something to share with your family. Like a game night or the last name. It must be nice to have a family. A brother.
" That is my brother. And I would really much like it if you didn't mess with him as if he was one of your Playboys. " He almost growls, looking at me intensely.
" Could you drop it brother, I'm genuinely fine." I almost forgot Ben was here.
Ben definitely knows how to keep his caveman instincts to himself. His brother has a little problem with that. Maybe anger management? Maybe his mother smoked while he was in the womb.
" Likewise," I mutter and he scoffs. " I wouldn't play with your brother. Ben, was his name? It was just a friendly brawl."
" What was it that you asked my brother then?" He crosses his big arms.
" Did she make you uncomfortable in any way ?" Someone from Smith's group asks when I don't answer quickly enough.
" Okay, and who asked you? Let a girl speak for God's sake."
" What is it, that we gain from this conversation if I give you the answer right away?" I ask a bone in my body, starting to gloat. " There's no fun in that." I chuckle.
" I said, nothing bad happened. Calm down for once..." Ben silently whispers, but his brother catches on quickly.
" This slut has no rights to even look at you differently. For your sake, our family is strong. Stand up for yourself, for our family, just once in your life." His face is stoic.
" This isn't a matter of standing up for myself. I work at a bar, brother. Looking at women is kinda my job." He rolls his green eyes.
" Well, you're doing a horrible job at that, as always. "
" Don't start badmouthing me, brother or should I say prisoner 105-"
" I called Ben gay and continued to make jokes about his sexuality hurting him in various mental ways to get my fun since the club you own is plain and boring." I place the straw in my mouth as the Montgomery boys stop their banter.
Smith takes a tight hold of my neck while he pushes me up against a pillar. My glass dropping, I choke on my drink as I hit my head. Almost biting me from anger Smith stands in front of me. My body soon follows as it smashes into the pillar. It's hard and cold. It ruined my dress.
I was previously thinking about another way to approach him. I did want to get closer to him, but I guess he's done it already, considering I'm already pressed up against a pillar with his hand already on my neck. I mean, give it some time and we'll be making out soon.
Ben, he still seems sweet and I bet if he was older and bigger he would probably help me out. But I have a feeling Smith likes to control Ben. And what is he even doing? Trying to hurt me? Trying to make me regret my question by choking me? He doesn't seem to be in the right mindset.
" You really don't know how to choke a person, no surprise your last victim survived." Smith's brows are lower as he's now doing it right. I feel like collapsing as if I'm in a tight space.
" What did you say?" He looks down towards my cleavage as I take his hand, trying to take it away from my neck.
" Don't look at my boobs. " I struggle to get out before he looks surprised.
His friends are surprised as well. I do have a bad habit of making snarky remarks at dangerous moments. They're probably wondering why I made a rude comment instead of saying something like ' let me go ' or ' I'm sorry '. I just like to be open-mouthed, but not about my personal life, that's just sad.
" Shut up. " Smith grunts and loosens his grip whilst I start to laugh, he takes a small step back.
" What are you laughing at? I could snap your neck right now. I almost choked you." He could have. But what
Maybe someone has done that before, or maybe he's religious and doesn't condone it. Maybe he's mad that I figured it out before he did. Or maybe he's just jealous that I managed to talk to Ben more than he could?
" Emphasis on the word almost. Harassing a woman in a nightclub sets the bar low. Even for you Smithy."
I pout as he loosens his grip on me. Now, I got a reaction. Surprised, he didn't know I knew him. He looks concerned, second-guessing himself, staring at me with disbelief.
To be honest, everyone knows him. Maybe he even is the bad boy in this city. But he went to the same high school as me, and I know what a pussy he really is.
" A few drinks, that's really all it takes for you to go ape-man crazy? And what are you doing? Trying to choke me? Daddy, please don't." I whine and I push my luck trying to get free from his grip entirely.
" Low blow Smithy. You really haven't changed since Wilmington. Do you really want to go back to that cell though? " I smile and he lets me go and that's really all it took.
All the anger hasn't faded from his eyesight, but the anger isn't towards me anymore.
So I inch closer and put my hands around his neck. Guess it's my turn to loosen my grip as I stare up at him, running one of my hands along his back. I slowly pet the back of his neck. His hair is a bit sweaty, but it's short and soft.
Like Ben.
" I think you remember me now, Smith," I whisper and see a slight smile growing on his features.
" Unbelievable." He softly whispers, looking at me in a daze.
" Ben here just offered me a drink. And me being the very dumb American blonde girl, I probably said something wrong. Isn't that right Ben?" I look towards Ben as he leans back on the bar and has a smug smile as he slowly nods. Realizing who I am, playing along with my game.
" That's exactly what happened." he smiles and I look back up at Smith.
" Is it really you? " His voice is low. Amazing actually. How a man could be boiling with anger, steam coming out of his ears, and yet a few seconds later, he could be seduced by a 5'9ft blonde girl with a 5 dollar necklace, a cheap dress, and a bad pedicure.
" Really me, Smithy, you've gotten better looking I'll give you that." My hands run along with his pockets, around his neck with his chain.
" And you have grown up." I roll my eyes. Seventeen is hardly grown-up, but I let him live his fantasy. Who am I to judge a poor soul from jail.
" Sorry, is there a problem?" A guard asks. He gives a warning look directed at Smith, and while Smith and I both know the quad wouldn't stand a chance, I step away.
" No, I fortunately already got it handled. Mind you, I know the guy, so if it would've been some other blonde, you would have been in trouble. I guess your pay really is as low as it should be, although what do I know? I'm just a stupid underaged girl that you let into a bar." I sweetly smile.
Detroit's crime rate is above the national average, and I think club bouncers and police officers strongly contribute to that with their tendency of not following protocol and frequently not caring enough about their job and the safety of others. Especially folks like me. They see everything as a paycheck.
" But, have a good life Smithy. We had a lovely chat and I really enjoyed catching up with you. We should do it more."
I start walking away, swaying my hips, knowing I have their attention. My heels almost echo. The club is actually buzzing about this upbeat music. The only thing having me in a buzz though is an envelope full of hard cash and a chain in my palm.