Burning Down The House | Adele + Brava
"You! The bar! FUCKING NOW!"
She threw her phone as a substitute for turning it off. The man at her side attempted to touch his hand down to Brava's shoulder and console her. He said something along the lines of "Hey, that's not gonna help" before she whirled around. Her eyes were wide, every vein she had was fit to pop, and she was pretty sure she was as close as she'd ever be to literally seeing red.
"If you touch me again I will tear your fucking hand off and jam it down your fucking throat do you fucking understand me?"
He was twice her size in every direction, but he knew her well enough to call it at that. It was the assfuck of night, long after closing, when Brava should have been able to sleep. She really god damn loved sleeping. How calm it was, how uninterrupted by, say, people calling her to tell her she should really look at her bar. She didn't blame them, of course. Barkers she'd known since days long gone who just happened to see the broken windows when they were driving by. They didn't do anything wrong. Still, she was half a minute from murdering them both.
"Where the fuck is she?" She asked herself while she paced, stepping over.. What was it? Two tables? It was hard to tell when they were in splinters. The entire bar smelled like every sort of liquor, but that's what happened when every bottle was smashed and left to leak basically everywhere. It looked like Godzilla had given birth right in the middle of the place. At least the ceiling fans were left alone and were spinning slowly, adding in a little creak of a noise every now and again to punctuate the silence.
"It's.. It's been like two minutes since you called, Brava."
"Did I fucking ask you?"
The men sighed at each other, shook their heads. They understood her being furious, but there was only so much abuse they were going to take. She'd used up her freebies for the broken windows, the busted-in door, the smashed liquor, and some of the stools, already. She was running out of good will. And she knew it.
She tried to focus on the pacing. One foot in front of the other. Don't flip out. Don't. Flip. Out.