Chapter Text
The Gunman sighed as he sat, just waiting for the sweet, sweet release of death.
In a bar…
“IT HAS BEEN TWO HOURS, IF YOU DON’T FUCKIN’ GET SOMETHING, I’LL KICK YOU OUT, WITH OR WITHOUT YOUR PRECIOUS GUN IN YOUR HANDS!” The bartender took a breath, waiting for the Gunman to reply with a snarky remark about her hair. When it never came she sighed, feeling a little bit guilty about shouting at the lonely looking Gunman.
“Look. I’ll get you a shot of rice wine. Plenty of alcohol. Imported straight from China. But you better pay, alright?” The bartender narrowed her eyes as she looked at the lonely man.
“...Fine.” The Gunman uttered out.
“How old are ya anyways? I didn’t get to ask the last few times we’ve met.”
“16 this year, and don’t go soft on me. Gimme the rice wine. The service here is as terrible as always…” The Gunman muttered out the last part.
“So what happened to the crew? Did you all disband after what happened?” The bartender asked as she poured the shot, ignoring what he just muttered.
The Gunman grimaced as he thought about all the memories.
“No. I don’t want to talk about it. What is done is done. There is no changing the past.”
“Hey hey hey. Don’t think like that.”
“You are a year too late, Miss.” The Gunman drank the shot and slammed the shot glass on the table, signalling for another. Suddenly, without explanation, his eyes welled up with tears.
“Mierda, my decisions. They were bad ones weren’t they.”
The bartender took five minutes to answer the Gunman, thinking about it really hard.
“Yes. They were.”
