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Bars aren't really your thing.
You tell people it's because you're not much of a drinker but that's not the only reason.
There's something isolating about watching people have a good time, watching them be happy, and not able to feel the same. It's not that you don't try, either. If you didn't, you wouldn't be here, listening to drunken karaoke sung by a man in a bad hat and forcing a smile. But it feels as if you're separated from everyone else. No matter how hard you try, you can't push past the sadness and anxiety, like a barrier of dirty, store-front glass. And now the people you came with - acquaintances you hoped to turn into friends - have vanished, leaving you alone at the table. Just another reminder of the crushing loneliness that comes with all the feelings you can't shake even though you desperately want to.
It's not the only reason you don't like bars, though.
The other reason you don't like bars is the two men who have taken up the vacant seats at the table. They won't take a hint, won't stop smiling in a way that makes your skin crawl, won't stop calling you pet names like 'baby'. Your eyes dart around, trying to find anyone familiar in the hopes that they'll see the situation and come to your rescue. No one you recognize surfaces. The only person whose eye you catch is the singer from earlier. He's smiling, face flushed to almost the same color as his hair, but that smile falters slightly when he looks your way.
You look away. Either it would just be more trouble (he looks like trouble, anyway) or it would be one more person to disappoint.
One of the men scoots his chair closer and you frantically text your 'friend'.
Where are you guys? You haven't come back to the table.
A few moments and your phone beeps.
Oh, you're still there?
Your heart sinks.
They left and now you're sitting at a table with a man getting too close and your fear of confrontation. You don't know which part is worse but you know that you can't cry here. Not surrounded by people trying to have fun.
"I have to go," you mumble, hoping maybe now they'll finally get the hint, and stand. You have to push through the crowd and you're so focused on alternatively not making eye contact with anyone and being sure to keep a smile on your face that you don't notice the men have followed you.
A hand grabs your arm, making you jump.
"Where're you going? I thought we were going to have a good time?" The smell of alcohol is overwhelming as he leans in close. You stutter, trying to pull your arm away. "C'mon, the party is just getting started."
Panic is making your heart nearly pound out of your chest.
"What, there's a party and I wasn't invited? I'm offended."
The new voice makes you and the two men freeze, looking for the source. You can't hide the look of confusion and surprise on your face when you spot the speaker.
It's the red-head man with the hat from earlier. Standing outside, you realize he's much shorter than his posture and expression indicates. Despite that and the slight drunken flush to his face, everything about him screams someone eager for a fight. The crooked grin and bright look in his blue eyes are certainly trouble.
You're amazed that the men don't seem to understand this.
"Yeah, you're not invited. Now get out of here, shrimp."
The man with the hat makes a noise, the look of annoyance on his face almost comical.
"What did you just say, you son of a bitch?!" He takes a moment to adjust his coat. "First, you harass an innocent person and now this? That's it. I'm pissed."
You've been watching intently, knowing that things are about to get out of hand, but even then you don't see the punch coming. It drops the first man like he had been hit by a truck. You don't see the kick that knocks the other man onto his ass either coming either. A beat or two of stunned silence while the men struggle to their feet and then they bolt. It isn't graceful but soon they stumble around a corner and out of sight.
"Damn bastards, ruining my night," your rescuer says.
Just what you were afraid of.
You don't mean to but, overwhelmed, you can feel the tears on your cheeks and your knees give out though you manage to kneel before you fall.
"I'm sorry-- I didn't mean to cause trouble."
"Eh?"
He looks at you, eyes narrowed slightly, before smiling. It's different than the last time you saw him smile. More genuine, you think.
"You didn't cause trouble. Those guys did," he says, crouching down in front of you. "They didn't even put up a good fight. What a drag."
"Oh."
"Are you okay?"
You nod. He offers you a gloved hand and without thinking, you shake it, eliciting a chuckle from him.
"Alright, that works. I'm Chuuya. You here with anyone?"
It would be less embarrassing to say no, that you came alone, but the words come tumbling out anyway.
"I was but they left. I didn't know they were gone, I thought maybe they could..."
Chuuya's expression turns angry on your behalf.
"Whaaa ? Seriously? That's shitty. Why would they do that?"
"I'm not very good with people," you admit. "I try but I'm just... not good."
He looks thoughtful, chin in his hand as he looks at you. Then he grabs your arm and pulls you towards him, letting gravity do the rest of the work. You land with a small thump against his chest, his arms wrapping around you in a hug. It feels heavy, in a way you can't articulate, but comforting. As if he's putting all that intensity he displays into a honest but slightly awkward attempt to crush away your sadness. The lingering scent of wine is on his breath but you have a feeling that's not why he's doing this. There was too much clarity in his eyes. Carefully, he pats your back and you finally cave and return the hug, trying to return the intensity as well, earning another laugh.
"Do you know how many people try?" he asks answering his own question before you can. "Not enough. So think of it that way. You're trying and you haven't quit yet which is a lot more than can be said for most people. You're doing good."
A smile crosses your face and you're surprised. When was the last time someone had said that to you? You don't remember but you know you'll never forget it this time.
"So, come on. Don't quit. There's never a good time to give up." With that, Chuuya pulls you to your feet with surprising ease, never mind that you have a few inches on him. "Now, let's get you home."
"Oh, and don't you dare tell anyone about this."
"I have a reputation, you know."
Still smiling, you just nod. Somehow, that's least surprising thing about tonight.