The blue lights were flashing all around me, shining a light on the otherwise darkened street. My boss had arrived shortly after the robbery. Luckily, some of the patrons had called the police, because after the blood-curdling scream I had let out, my body was all drained of energy.
I had been placed on some of the patio furniture we had outside, which was sitting out all year long, now groaning underneath my weight, and the fact that they had absorbed more rain and snow than they could manage. Everything in my head was spinning, everything I did right, everything that could have gone so terribly wrong.
I looked up at the sky. The starry night sky was looking right back at me. The darkness in that was completely different from the darkness I had felt earlier. That darkness was pure rage. But this? This kind of darkness was beautiful, it was peaceful, it was quiet. The stars kept taking turns, shining down on me while the moon was bright, almost like it was controlling the rest of them. The night sky was so easy, so straightforward. It had always had a calming effect on me, just like it did now.
The darkness up there contained everything the world down here didn't. There was a steadiness and an acceptance that you just didn't find on earth. Here was nothing but chaos, nothing but noise, and everything just smelled and felt like shit.
I sighed, sinking onto the bench. My elbows rested on my knees, my gaze locked on my boss, who was talking to two police officers. Of course, he was considered about getting back his money, and I could understand that, but he could have asked if I was okay, he could have just checked in.
Two more police officers came out of the pub along with a dog. It was supposed to catch the scent of the thieves, but it couldn't have been easy since there were so many different people in and out every single day. To me, it seemed so goddamn ridiculous to use resources on doing that, but what did I know?
"Are you okay?" A dark voice, covered in some sort of accent, sounded from behind me.
I turned around, but wasn't able to see much else besides the outline of his body, since the darkness seemed to surround him, shield him. I simply nodded at him, unable to make my tired and rundown body do anything else. For just a short while, it seemed like he looked at me, while I looked at his general direction, trying to figure out who the hell he was, but then he simply stepped back, disappearing into the darkness. That wasn't creepy at all.
"Are you able to make a statement?" The female officer came towards me, her pen already ready on her pad. I simply gave another nod. "Can you describe any of them?"
"No," I answered curtly. "I held my gaze down, making sure they weren't further agitated," I continued, making her nod approvingly at me-officially telling me that I did the right thing. "But they were wearing dark hoods, and the guy talking had a very dark voice."
She wrote everything I said down on her notepad, nodding while I was speaking. She looked worn, like she had already had a long night. Her hair was tight in a bun on the back of her head, which was probably a sign of her wanting to be taken seriously. She wanted to be recognized as someone who had the guts to do a man's job. It had to be difficult, of course gender equation was getting better and better, but for a female police officer, I wouldn't dare to think of how much crap she had to endure every time she clocked in for work.
When her brown eyes met mine, they shone with compassion, but also endurance and strength. "Do you have a way of getting home?"
"Yeah, my car is right back there. My fiancé is home, so I won't be alone," I explained, trying to give her a I'm okay smile, but it was forced, it was too fake, and she knew it.
"Good," she responded anyway, as she placed her hand on my knee and gave it a small squeeze. "Can I have your phone number, in case we need to speak with you again?"
After giving her my number, I said goodbye to my boss and gave him my keys. I knew I wouldn't be able to work behind the bar again, not after what happened tonight. I wouldn't be able to feel safe behind the bar anymore, I wouldn't be able to relax, and I would never be able to forget the sight of that gun pointed straight at me.
It seemed like he understood me completely, because he didn't ask any questions, and he let me go home without any fuss.
**
I turned off the car outside our apartment building. With a heavy sigh, I leaned back into the seat. That sigh contained so many emotions, feelings of powerlessness, feelings of tiredness, feelings of relief. I could feel the happiness starting to take over-my brain choosing to focus on the good things in my life, wanting to look on the bright side of life.
Lucas and I were going to Ireland in a few days, a place where I could put all of this crappiness behind me. I could use all of my energy on sucking in positivity, on drawing from the happiness of a sunny sky, of happy Irish people. We had agreed that we needed a small getaway before it got too warm, the kind of temperature where you could feel comfortable walking around, seeing all of the nature and culture Ireland had to offer. And I was especially excited to see their big Summer Fest, the one where they welcomed summer in a traditional Irish way.
The cool air started to seep into the car, but you could clearly feel the summer approaching quickly. And with the summer, my birthday also came. It was almost eerily quiet, too quiet. On payday, you could usually hear people partying, having fun, and getting rowdy, but you could hear nothing but the quietness of the night.
The slam of the cardoor was deafening.
I moved towards the door of the building, the bricks were a striking red color, and the building was three stories tall. The ones on the ground level had a bit of a garden as well, where all we had was a small balcony. I had tried to grow so many different things there, but it either got too much sun or not enough sun. I simply didn't have the green thumb.
The stairs felt unbearable as always. My legs felt like jello already, and now they had to be exposed to an absurd amount of steps. My right hand followed me on the banister, basically pulling me upwards. Sooner than I thought, I hit the third floor, and with only four attempts, my key hit the lock.
Noise came from inside the apartment, like someone was struggling or something. I opened up the door, and Lucas came tumbling out of the bedroom, only halfway dressed. "Hey, beautiful!" He seemed out of breath for some odd reason. "You're home early."
I threw my stuff on the ground right there in our hallway, before my arms lifted to envelope him in a hug. Everything I needed was his love, his kisses, his hugs, his tongue, and his...
"Hey, Luna!" My head turned to find Carol, who was sitting, barely covered by the comforter on my bed.
"Hey, Carol?" I could practically feel my head spinning, trying to keep up. Halloooo?! Wake up! "What are you guys doing?" My eyes went from Carol back to Lucas, who was also looking back and forth between us, but never meeting my eyes.
Like if lightning hit me, my body suddenly started moving. My hand hit his cheek with a humongous smack. I hurried further into the bedroom and quickly grabbed my suitcase, before I started shoving my clothes into it.
Carol shifted slightly on the bed. Carol. My best fucking friend since middle school. How long had she been fucking my fiancé? Honestly, no, I didn't want to know.
"Luna," Lucas started, as he stood in the doorway to our bedroom, still halfway naked.
As an answer to that, I simply took off my ring, throwing it at him with the single intent of hurting him. Tears started gathering in my eyes. I had to fucking hurry.
"It wasn't supposed to make you upset," he tried.
He didn't even have the decency to flinch when my gaze landed on him. I was fucking boiling with rage. "What the hell was I supposed to be then? Huh, Lucas?!" I threw my arms up, the feelings simply overflowing inside of me. "Should I be happy? Should I have asked if I could join, or if it was supposed to be just the two of you?" I pushed my shoulder into him as I walked past him to the bathroom. "You can have fucking everything, do what you want, I don't give a damn."
Inside the bathroom, I threw all of my toiletries into a bag. Basically just taking my toothbrush, my deodorant, and my other small things. I went into the bedroom again, where Carol was now dressed in a t-shirt and her minuscule thong. She was everything I wasn't. She was skinny, had long brown hair that waved down her back. She had a gigantic ass, one that all men just needed to have a piece of.
I shut my suitcase and dragged it across the floor. I turned towards Lucas. "The rest you're gonna send home to my mom," I said, while I could still keep the tears inside. "I don't wanna look at you anymore." My gaze turned to Carol once again, who looked not to even be affected by it. "And I definitely don't wanna look at you either."
The door slammed behind me again, and now I was in the hallway yet again. Where was I supposed to go? Going home to my mother would be admitting defeat; she would know she was right. But was there anywhere else to go?
What a shitty fucking life.
I looked at the house in front of me. A small rowhouse. It was whitewashed and had a red roof, and it looked like every other house here. My backpack weighed on my bag, the one I always brought with me to work, the one with all of my electronics in it, and my suitcase in hand. It felt heavier than anything I had ever carried before.
He had cheated on me with my best friend. Just the thought of it made me want to vomit all over the place. I couldn't help but wonder how long they had been doing it. Pull yourself together! No job, no roof over my head, and nowhere to go, besides my mother.
The small front yard was already in full bloom. Flowers, herbs, and vegetables. My mother had green thumbs like no one else, and it annoyed the crap out of me. I wasn't able to grow anything like her. Even here, in the darkness, her garden stood out among the others, which had the same conditions for growth as she had.
With the suitcase at my heels, I walked up the paved line towards the white front door. My head was tender, and my thoughts swam around in my head. What was my next step supposed to be? Where did I belong? Can you even trust people? Tired, I lifted my hand; the sound of the doorbell was insufferable. You could hear it ringing throughout the entire house, and immediately her voice floated through it, echoing right behind the ringing.
I turned around, deciding to yet again look up towards the stars. They were shining so brightly, like they knew exactly what they were supposed to do. Help me. A silent prayer, a small beg. Sent up to something I knew couldn't help me. Help me.
The door opened behind me. "Who's-" I turned around, looking my mother straight in the eyes. "Luna," she whispered at me, like we were in the middle of a daytime drama. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes slide from me down to my suitcase, and then it happened, the eyes I knew I would receive. I knew it.
"Can I stay here for a while?" I asked, knowing what her answer would be, which was also why I was here.
"Of course," she said, stepping aside so that I could get in. "What happened?"
I left the suitcase in the hallway and continued further into the house. I went by her bedroom, past the door into the bathroom. The living room was the last in the hallway, so I opened the door and went inside, into the room that looked so much like my childhood living room but still so different.
"I asked you something, Luna."
"Not tonight, okay, Mom?" I turned towards her, seeing her standing with her arms crossed over her chest. "You'll get all the details tomorrow," I tried, while I gave her the thinnest smile I could muster. "Do you have any alcohol?"
My mother was definitely a beautiful woman. She had the same blond hair as I, but hers was completely short and always put neatly into place-just not at crap o'clock at night. She stood in her sun colored robe and wore her flippers. Her body had an amazing pear shape with broad hips.
She sighed as a response, rolling her eyes at me. "Look in the fridge and in the corner cabinet," she answered, before she turned around and opened the door to her bedroom. "Good night," she mumbled, before she disappeared into the room, closing the door behind her.
The switch gave a click as I turned on the light in the living room. The living room I had spent so much of my childhood. The living room, which in principle looked exactly like itself, while everything was still different. The coffee table still stood in the same spot, but the TV had gone from a box to a flat screen. The couch had been humongous, taking up most of the space, a couch that didn't fit in with the screaming blue color that none of the other furniture had, had been replaced with a two-person couch in a dull gray color. The laundry rack still stood behind the couch, though, but it wasn't the same kind of clothes hanging on it as when I was a child. The dining room table had gotten smaller, and the chairs had gotten fancier and more expensive.
I moved through the room, making my way to the kitchen. In the fridge stood a bottle of rosé, unopened. I took it underneath my arm while I moved across the kitchen to get a glass. The first one I grabbed was a regular water glass. Who cares? Not me, it seemed.
I went back through the living room and opened the door to the terrace outside. I plopped down in one of the chairs, opened the bottle, and filled the glass completely. With my back against the chair, I threw my feet up on the chair in front of me. My cigarettes came out of my pocket, and I quickly placed one between my lips. When I grabbed my lighter, I could see my hand shaking, shaking more than a vibrator on full goddamn speed.
Finally, I was able to light up my cigarette, and I dropped the lighter onto the table. My shaking hand was grabbing the glass of wine, as I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate once again. I took down a gulp, and then another, and then another.
Tears started to prickle my eyes again, and this time I didn't care; this time I let them fall. I took a drag from my cigarette, which truly just made me cough. The sobs started to wreck my body. My body shivering from everything, from the drop of adrenaline, from the cold surrounding me. Why me?
I couldn't cope with this day. How can all of this happen to me?
I couldn't handle it anymore. Why did all of this happen to me?
I couldn't live like this anymore. Why can't it just all go smoothly?
I couldn't stand it anymore. Why can't I be happy?
Yet another sound left my lips, one I hadn't thought would come. Another scream left my lungs. My cheeks were completely wet, my t-shirt drenched, and the glass became slippery in my hand. Automatically, I put it down on the table. I tried standing up, but my legs wouldn't listen to my brain. I tried drying the tears from my cheeks, but my arms wouldn't listen either. My body had shut down completely.
Help me.
No matter what, it couldn't get any worse than it was.
Save me.
No matter what, I couldn't be hurt any more than I was right now.
Kill me.
**
I woke up in the lawn chair the next day. The birds were chirping. The sun was shining through a few clouds. The neighbors were talking on the other side of the hedge. Idyllic suburban coziness on a Sunday morning. But I couldn't handle it. Happy people aren't realists. At least my brain was as negative as the rest of me was.
I pulled my body from the chair with a loud groan. I hadn't been just an ounce comfortable. My back was trashed, my legs were stiff, and my shirt was moist after the dew.
Inside, my mother sat ready, coffee made, breakfast put out, and her game face on. "Good morning, did you sleep well?" Her voice was bright, but still firm. She wanted answers, and I might as well give them to her, because she wouldn't relent until she had them.
"I slept like shit," I muttered honestly, before I dumped down in front of her.
My coffee cup was filled quickly, the black liquid looking like a goddamn lifejacket. It turned into a muddy brown color as I filled it with milk as well. I took a sip immediately-the milk cooled it down for me. As if it gave me a shot of life, I instantly felt just a tiny bit better.
"It's time to talk, Missy," she said, leaning back and crossing her arms across her chest once again. Her gaze was hard and firm; there was no dodging her this time.
I sighed, feeling my entire body starting to soften up after the bad sleep position. "From the top?"
Her clear blue eyes searched my face, like she was trying to suck the information right out of me-or worse, like she could read my mind. "From the top, and all of it!" she demanded.
"We were mugged yesterday," I started, taking a small sip of coffee to let her digest the information. "I stood alone behind the bar, and suddenly, three men came in, one of them had a gun, and they wanted all of the money in the register." Her eyes got wide, her jaw falling onto her chest. "The police came, but I couldn't really help them with anything, since I didn't see much, just trying to survive." I grabbed an apple from the fruit plate. "So I handed over my keys yesterday, and now I'm without a job." I stopped talking, taking a bite out of the apple. "When I got home, I found Lucas and Carol," my eyes landed on her again, "together, naked in my bed."
"You've got to be kidding me," she almost whispered.
"So I packed my stuff, and I didn't know where else to go."
"So, Lucas and Carol are a thing now?"
Of course, that would be where her focus was. "I don't know," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "I didn't exactly ask about their plans."
She nodded thoughtfully while she grabbed her own coffee cup and took a sip. Satisfied with the information, she didn't really need to ask any more questions, which made it possible for me to eat my breakfast in peace and quiet, without having to be on guard.
"Ireland!" I nearly jumped out of my chair when she suddenly yelled. "You're still going to Ireland, right?!"
"I don't know, Mom, isn't it utterly fucking redundant right now?"
A wicked smile stretched across her lips, one I didn't like one bit. "I could go with you.
No. No, no, no, no. Fuck no.
"If I'm going," I started, "I'm definitely not bringing my mother on what would have been a romantic getaway." She had to understand that.
She leaned back, clearly disappointed. She didn't speak anymore, not until she had to go to work.
"Bye," she said, halfway into the living room. "I'll see you later."
"You sure will," I answered her, sending her a half-hearted smile and a "have a nice day."
My mother worked in a nursing home, where she helped the elderly get moving, and she made something happen in their lives. She basically always worked twelve-hour shifts on Sundays, since it paid a buttload of money. She disappeared out into the hallway, and soon the door closed behind her.
My attention snapped back to the TV, which was playing yet another episode of a horrible reality show. It was the kind of show where every single girl had big boobs and the guys looked like bodybuilders. They always fought over the smallest, most stupid things, making drama where no drama should live. But it delivered the perfect kind of numbness that I needed. It was something I could watch without having to think, just trying to follow through the conscious stream of thoughts flowing from the characters.
My phone vibrated yet again. I had stopped checking it a long time ago, because either it was Carol who was trying to apologize or trying to explain why it really was all my fault, or it was Lucas who was threatening to come and pick me up.
The only thing I had used my phone for was calling and ordering both a large pizza and some pasta for dinner. Both had to be doused in garlic, and of course, I was getting a shit ton of dressing on the pizza as well. I could be gross now. Now I didn't have to think about what I would look like naked, because no one was going to see it.
When the doorbell finally rang, I went to pick up my food, almost giddy about the fact that I was going to binge eat way too much. But it wasn't the delivery guy, it wasn't the guy I wanted to see the most.
"Luna, please listen-"
I slammed the door right in his face, and of course, I locked it immediately, effectively shutting Lucas out of the house.
"I was being stupid, okay?" He spoke loud enough for his voice to travel through the door. "I was too blind to see what I already had, please. Like, we got together really early, you know, and I thought I had to try something more, that I need to see-"
"So you decided to try out my best friend? Is that what you're trying to say?" I called back, the rage starting to bubble inside of me again.
"Luna," he sighed, almost sounding resigned, like he was already tired of this. "I wasn't trying to hurt you; that wasn't what I wanted." My eyes rolled so hard, I almost got dizzy from the movement. "Let's go to Ireland, huh? We can have a great time, we can bond, we can find each other again. We can forget all about this, please, Luna. We're getting married for Christ's sake."
I ripped the door back up, needing to see his face. "You fucking disgusting bastard scumbag cheating fucking liar!" I screamed right into his face, feeling the heat rising in my body. "You can forget everything about going to Ireland! I fucking paid for that trip, and I'm not bringing a fucking cheater!"
And only like Lucas could, he sent me a smirk, which would normally make my panties fly off. "You said fucking twice." It was meant to be funny, meant for me to chuckle, meant for me to say Yeah, you're right, throw myself on the ground, and spread my legs.
"Get out," was the only response out of me, while I pointed back at the parking lot. "Get out of my life, leave me the fuck alone. I never want to talk to you, hear from you, or see you, ever again."
It was almost like he got confused. Like he hadn't thought I would actually stay mad at him. Like he had thought, he could just show up here, say a few words, and then I would forget and take him back. That I would pull him to me, hug him, and then spread my legs for him. Not in this lifetime.
"What about our getaway?" he asked, looking like a hurt puppy who didn't get his way.
"It's my getaway," I answered through clenched teeth. "And if I see you there, I'll cut off your balls. Do you understand?" A small thought entered my mind, a worry that I might be able to crack my teeth, with how hard I was clenching them. But I was certain in my decision; he would never be able to act like this ever again.
As if someone gave him an extra shot of confidence, he suddenly lifted his shoulders and straightened his back. "I don't need you anyway," he said, and then added, "you're nothing but a moldy, shaggy, and disgusting cunt." With that, he turned around and walked away.
Moldy, shaggy, and disgusting cunt.
What a line.
The flight was uncomfortable; I hadn't spent enough money on the airline, on the seats, on anything really. There was no leg space, I was uncertain whether or not I would ever see my suitcase again, and I thought for a second that we could crash before we could land. But magically, I ended up in Dublin, standing in the airport, and so utterly ready to experience something new and exciting.
My mother had been unfathomably jealous, but had driven me to the train station nonetheless, so that I could get onwards. I needed this trip, needed to be myself and figure out what I wanted to do with my life, what my dreams were like.
Happiness rose inside of me when I finally saw my suitcase on the conveyor belt. With that rolling behind me, I found the bus that I was supposed to get on. I needed to go to a smaller town, one that looked nothing short of idyllic Irish bliss, fortune, culture, and history.
The bus driver helped me get off at the right spot, which was something he didn't have to do. But something rose inside of me when I saw the bus driving on without me. Like this impending doom washing over me. All I could see for miles around me were fields, and down a hill were a patch of houses.
I was left in the middle of nowhere.
The music flowed through my headphones as I pulled my suitcase after me, following the narrow pathway down the hill. It was so goddamn long, and so unbelievably uneven. But the nature was gorgeous. Every single field was in bloom, ready to spout and make seed-or whatever the hell it's called. The sky was blue, and the sun was shining on me. It was positively lovely.
The gravel crunched beneath my feet, the small pebbles existing in every possible color I could imagine. I could find both gray, blue, red, green, and black among them. On both sides of the pathway was a little stonewall, like that was all the defence those fields needed. It was clearly old and was crafted during a simpler time, when you did what you could with what you had.
As I got closer to the small village, I could see more and more houses. People milling around, talking with each other, greeting each other. Kids were playing, clearly having fun, enjoying the fact that it was getting sunnier and warmer. Everyone looked as I passed them with my suitcase, so of course, I nodded back at them, greeting them kindly.
McBrian Bed&Breakfast.
The sign was made out of wood, and it announced my arrival at my destination. I went up the small stone steps in front of the stone-built house. It was beautiful craftsmanship; the large stones in different gray and brown nuances were placed on top of each other, creating a homey feel that you just didn't get from newly built homes. The large front door was made of wood, looking very old, very beautiful, and it squeaked as I opened it.
"Welcome, welcome, welcome!" A woman's voice sounded, her Irish accent heavy but so utterly charming at the same time. "Come in, come in, come in." Suddenly, my suitcase disappeared from my hands while I was still trying to get it up the stone steps.
When my suitcase was put aside, I saw the woman behind it. She wasn't tall, like not at all, coming up at about five feet or something. She was wearing a floral dress, wearing every color of the rainbow. Her hair was fiery orange and curly, exactly like you would want an Irish lady to look like.
"Hey!" My smile was reciprocated in her chubby face. "I'm Luna Jones," I continued, walking with her towards the small desk perched right in the foyer. "I was supposed to be traveling with someone." How did I explain that? "But something came up. Either way, I'm here now."
"Hello, Miss Jones," she greeted, so warmly and lovingly. "My name is Leslie McBrian, and this is my small piece of heaven," she said, with a big smile on her lips as she widened her arms. "Actually, it'll only be you coming this week," she continued, rifling through some papers, "so if you have any requests for breakfast, just let me know, and I'll whip us up something delicious."
If I had to guess, I would say she was in her late fifties or early sixties. But she seemed full of life, full of energy, smiling, happy, and kind. Eating breakfast with her wouldn't be a problem for me.
"Eggs and toast are always good," I answered, a warmth coating my voice-something I reckoned she experienced a lot.
"Wonderful! I have hens out back, so I'll make sure to have fresh boiled eggs ready for us tomorrow!"
I looked down at the piece of paper she handed me. House rules, was the headline on it. It looked doable, nothing that scared me or seemed unreasonable. Something about being quiet after ten o'clock at night, that breakfast was served at eight, and some different ideas of what to do in the city.
"Also," she said, handing me a flyer, "you have to participate in our Summer Fest the day after tomorrow!"
The flyer was a bright pink color with a sun in the top right corner. It was nicely done and created a whole vibe for the theme they were going for. "Thank you, I might check it out," I answered with a genuine smile. Lovely lady.
She followed me up to my room, up the tiny, narrow stairwell, where every single step squeaked as you stepped on it-so no one could sneak up on me at night, I would definitely know if someone was coming. She had insisted on carrying my suitcase, trying to basically push it up the small staircase.
At the end of the stairs was a hallway with four doors in total. The walls were covered in flowered wallpaper; big, bright, pink roses and a lot of dark green leaves. There wasn't any light except for the window at the end of the hall, which let in the sunlight. The floors were made of a dark wood, giving it the feeling that it had experienced a lot throughout its years.
"The bathroom is through there," she informed me, while she was pointing at the first door on the left. "The water gets cold pretty quickly, so don't take too long in the shower."
"I don't mind cold showers," I said, trying to reassure her.
At the end of the hall, she went inside the door on the right. "You're getting my very best room."
The room had a decent size, big enough to hold multiple furniture. It even had a small French balcony. It looked homey, giving off an almost country vibe. "It's beautiful," I said, sincerity floating through my tone.
A small blush floated through her cheeks. "There's also a minifridge here," she said, opening a small piece of furniture, which was on the right side of the bed. "There's a small store a little further down the street where you can get a few different things. The inn is the only place that cooks warm food, and you'll find the funny drinks there as well. But I really hope you'll join our Summer Fest," her green eyes met mine, the big smile back on her lips, "we usually nominate the travelers to be honorees, and it's always a lot of fun."
**
The inn was a shady place. It smelled like tobacco, and even if I smoked myself, I could still point it out and still find it a little too much. As soon as I walked through the door, everyone turned around to see who stepped inside. My thoughts drifted back to the pub at home, and how I would have handled it there. So I said a quick hey and sat down at a table with my bag filled with goodies.
A tired-looking man came over to me. He had on a dirty apron, a cigarette hanging off the side of his mouth, and a worn-down, dirty cap on his head. He looked at me like my mere presence was an annoyance to him. "What will you have?"
"I talked to Leslie McBrian," I said, hiking my thumb over my shoulder towards the door. "She told me that you could get some food here?"
"I have the day's special, it's a stew with vegetables and lamb," he answered tiredly, like he was the most depressed person on the planet.
"Then I'll have that," I answered, trying to give him a small smile. "Can you recommend something to drink that goes with it?"
He sighed, making the cigarette ash onto the floor. "We have beer or soda."
"Then I'll have an orange soda, please," I answered, pulling my own cigarettes out of the pocket on my hoodie.
Completely automated, an ashtray appeared on the table, small, round, and black. I looked back up at the man, but he was already headed towards the kitchen. I shrugged my shoulders, fishing out a cigarette from my pack, while I tried to ignore the many eyes on me. Not unbelievable that a lot of people didn't come here, since everyone seemed to treat you as a monster or freak if they didn't know you. No welcome committee, that was sure. I clicked on my lighter, but nothing happened.
"Here," and a flame appeared from my right. I leaned in, pulling on my cigarette to get it going. I looked further up the arm, and there stood a young man, probably a little older than me but not a lot. He had a buzzcut, something that looked like he did it himself, with impeccable green eyes. "Don't mind Ed," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. "He was born that way, and we can't seem to change it." His accent was so thick, I had to concentrate a little to understand what he said. "I'm Liam," he ended, holding out his hand.
"Luna," I answered, as I shook his hand. It was rough, calloused, but definitely a strong grip as well.
"Nice to meet you, Luna," he said, putting his hand on the table. "Care if I join you?"
Before I could actually answer the question, Liam had already sat down across from me. He was wearing a worn t-shirt in a deep brown color. Across the chest had once been a logo or some kind of text, but it had faded after being washed too many times. He was wearing work pants, the kind that had a lot of pockets for tools and whatnot.
"What brings you to town?" he asked, leaning back in his chair, as he lit a cigarette for himself.
"I wanted to experience something different," I answered, which was true.
"What are you used to seeing?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips, which was probably easy to fall for. Definitely a player who could get these poor girls to do his bidding.
I chose to ignore his question. "Why did you sit down here, Liam?"
Ed came back with a plate and a bottle of soda. The food smelled amazing, but didn't look all too appetizing. I gave him a smile as a thank you, but Ed simply turned around and walked back behind the bar.
"Why wouldn't I sit down here?"
He was a true copy of Lucas; he had the same way to get the girls to lie flat on their backs and spread their legs as widely as they could. He almost provoked me. Why did I have to be a douchebag magnet? I tapped my cigarette with my finger, letting the ash fall into the ashtray, before I leaned back into my chair.
"So, you want to fuck me while I'm here?" I might as well be straightforward. Why play with your cards close when we both knew what would happen if he won?
He chuckled a little, tapping his own cigarette. "You're honest, I like that." His eyes slid down my front. "I mean, I won't lie, Luna. You're gorgeous, and what woman wouldn't want to get down and dirty with a local like me?"
"Alright, listen up, smart ass," I said, leaning forward again, making him do the same thing. "If someone's stupid enough to fall for you, it's their own fault. But even if I'm blonde, I still have plenty of functioning brain cells." I pulled another drag, letting the smoke out through my teeth as I gave him the most sugary, fake smile I could muster. "But if they should stop doing that-functioning, I mean-I'll let you know."
His smirk disappeared from his smug face, and shortly after, so did he.