@desertgourd
It was a night like any other. Nothing special about it, really. Same with the bar. Same with its customers. A hot spot for the young and lonely, both those trying to change and those who wanted to be. One could dive head first into the crowd or get lost in its anonymity, make friends as quickly as part with them again, if so desired, or simply fill one‘s body up with liquor so high that it would drown out the noise and the music and all your demons along with them. It was a perfect place for people watching, too. A group of young women by the entrance were laughing over their cocktails. All but one, that was, who quietly sipped on a glass of soda and seemed a little out of place at their table. Her gaze drifted through the room like a boat lost at sea, never casting anchor. It drifted past the pool table, where a bearded man in his early thirties just raised the bottle of beer in his hand for a grand welcome to an old friend who had just arrived. The newcomer briefly hugged the man with a large smile before wandering off towards the bar to fetch himself something to pour out on the night as well. It did not take long for the bartender to notice him. Money, a few words and another bottle of beer flew across the counter, and the man returned to his pal who was suddenly in the company of a fairly pretty young blonde, whom he introduced to the other.
„You sure you want another, Sweetie?“ The bartender cocked her head at the guest sitting at the corner of her corner with some concern. He nodded without looking up, and dropped his hand back on the table in silence. He knew he shouldn‘t. He was already more intoxicated than he had ever planned on being tonight. But his search had been unsuccessful, none of his brief encounters had stuck, and as the evening had stretched on he had kept wandering from place to place, buying something every time just so that his mouth had something to do. His wallet was screaming bloody murder, but he did not hear it. He didn‘t hear anything at this point, except for the dull rumbling of voices all around him.
A new glass was placed before him with a frown, and he muttered something that vaguely sounded like a thank you. Oh, he was going to regret this tomorrow. But what did it matter? He was going to regret it all either way. The drinks, the day, and his entire miserable existence. Give it a week from now and he would have successfully stuffed them into a box again, abandoning them somewhere deep within the trenches of his soul, and not spare them a second thought until spring. Besides, open wounds were vulnerable to infection, right? With a sigh, Lux lifted the new glass to his lips and emptied it in one go.
What time was it? He glanced down at his phone, but found that he couldn‘t read the numbers. The world was swimming before his eyes, and so were his demons inside. Maybe he should go home. He was too far gone to still bring the night to a successful ending anyway. Pushing himself off his bar stool proved difficult though. Had the floor always been this far away? The young man slipped his phone back into the pocket of his jacket and attempted to stand. At once, the horizon shifted. He stumbled, lost his balance, and only managed to keep himself from falling head first into another customer by clumsily holding onto the counter beside him. A bright thud and the feeling of something wet and cold suddenly washing over his hand told Lux that he had likely just knocked over the other‘s drink. Brilliant. God was truly turning a blind eye on him today. Could his birthday get any worse?
„M‘sorry. Sorry. Uhm-- I‘ll buy you a new one, really sorry. I just--“ He tried to steady himself, glazed eyes waiting for his toppled ship to turn itself back on its belly before looking at the other. At least nobody knew him here. „You okay?“
