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The assistant tipped his head back, letting the sour taste of his drink aid his mind to go blank. He was definitely buzzed by this point— just barely holding on to thinking and speaking clearly. Dim lighting shone from overhead; falsely brighter due to the sun having been long gone from the horizon. Tone was mixed— some having a good time with friends, while others drank their lives away. Notably, he wasn’t any exception to the latter.
It was still early, by his standards. If he had to guess, it may just be past 9, give or take. Bustling conversations rung loud in his ears, no particular direction seeming to let ease with the noise. All these people, all these faces, and yet both chairs beside him stood empty. Typical— though, the idea of sitting next to a higher up or her made his skin crawl, so maybe isolation wasn’t as bad as it could be.
The ambiance left no room to hear another person walking into the bar, which only added to his surprise when somebody sat in the seat right next to him.
A woman. Blonde, unkempt hair tied back in a ponytail, taller, and probably in the same place mentally; given how melancholic she looked. Her body swayed slightly from exhaustion, and her hand was held up to catch the attention of whoever was running to and fro behind the counter. She noticed him staring at her, and could only muster a small, tired smile before the bartender took her order. The man grinned back, having practiced a face like that a thousand times before.
Conversation between the two of them didn’t begin immediately. The blonde woman ordered a couple of shots, gradually in pace before her orders began to speed up. He’d tell her to slow down, but how hypocritical would that be— considering the empty bottles of whiskey and scotch sitting behind the counter from his own alcoholism.
Finally, he decided enough awkward silence had taken place. His social life was awful; What’s the chance another person he just met with hate him off the bat?
“Do you come around often?” He asked, tapping her on the shoulder.
She turned to him, unsure if the inquiry was for her. “Hm? Are you talking to me?”
“Yeah. Not sure if there’s anyone else I could be…”
She glanced at the other side of him, quickly realizing the idiocy of her question.
“Oh… my goodness. Sorry, my head’s kind of…” she trailed, fingers putting pressure on her temples as she shut her eyes closed.
“—Mine too. I haven’t seen you before, are you new?” He tilted his head, staring at her with intrigue, though she didn’t seem too keen on staring back.
“…Yeah. My… old spot doesn’t let me in anymore.”
“Oh. Cut you off?”
“Kind of. Started a bar fight.” She placed her hand behind her neck, elbow resting on the table.
The Bartender placed another shot in front him, the man absentmindedly swirling it around in the glass. “That’s kind of badass. Did you win?”
“…yeah.”
“What was it even about? How much shit did they need to talk in order for you to snap?”
She rolled her eyes. “…Something about my family, I think. I don’t know— I was drunk out of my mind.”
“Hah! Won the fight drunk?! You keep surprising me.” He turned the glass up, wiping his mouth and trying to ignore the nausea that’s definitely going to hit him once he stands. “Do you remember what exactly?”
The blonde shrugged, turning back towards the counter. Must’ve been a pushy question.
“…Mmh. Sorry. Don’t mean to pry,” he looked back down at the table, pushing the drink to the side.
“No, no, it’s fine. I… think I respectively shot myself in the foot for bringing it up. The guy knew my dad’s gig. Called me a coward little daddy’s girl, and some other things that kinda blend in with each other. It really ruffled my feathers.”
“Ah. Close with him?”
“The guy I beat the shit out of? No.”
“I— meant your dad?? Are you on good terms?”
Her face became somber, and little embarrassed for misunderstanding. “…it’s…complicated right now.”
“Ah. Well, we can switch topics, then. What’s your job? What do you do for work?”
“I specialize in mechanical engineering. I have a lot of experience— I’m looking at some occupations right now.” She glanced up and down at him, noticing his disheveled attire. “I assume you work at an office?”
“…unfortunately.” You could really the slurring of his articulation.
“Hm. You didn’t even change out of anything before coming here. I like the Red blazer though. Suits you; no pun intended.”
“Hah. Thanks.” He leaned down on the table, chest against the edge of the counter.
Stopping in their tracks, the bartender noticed the two talking together, grinning. “Seems like you two have gotten along well. Taking her home tonight, man?”
She scrunched her face. “Eugh. I’m think I’m good. No offense.”
“Nah, I’m with you.” He turned his head down, shielded from the lighting. “Not what I was trying to do when striking up a conversation, In case you were thinking that.”
The bartender’s expression went from teasing to contemptuous. “‘Course. You should at least make me feel better about serving you, you know. I’m not obligated to anymore after your little stunt a couple weeks back.”
The man turned his head back up and the mention. “Hey, we don’t have to talk about that now—“
“We don’t, plus, I don’t got the time. Why don’t you fill in your little friend for me.” With that, they placed a small glass in front of the blonde woman, and went back to their job.
She turned back to him. “…What was that about—?”
“Nothing. You’d… rather not know.” He smiled, though strained.
“I’m pretty understanding. You could tell me.”
His head was still pressed against the table, fully facing her now— indecisiveness was embedded in his expression. “You sure you won’t go broadcasting it?”
“I don’t think I’m even gonna remember your name tomorrow, to be fair.”
He blinked. “I never told you my name.”
“…ah.” She glanced away, realizing he was right. “Well. Before you tell me about that, I guess introductions are in place. I’m K███. You?”
She could barely hear him with a surrounding conversation, but she’s pretty sure she caught it.
“Great to meet ya. Now that we know each other a little more… surface level, mind telling me what the bartender was being such an ass over?”
He sat up a bit, eyes locked onto staring anywhere but another person’s face. “I’d… still rather not.”
“…Suit yourself.” She took another shot.
“Sorry for leaving you in suspense.” He raised his glass up in his hand, by the rim, knowing his cut off point was sure to be soon once the employees realized how many times he’s ordered.
“Nah, it’s alright— whatever you’re…” she paused, smile slowly disappearing from her face. Her eyes drifted over to his arm as her sentence trailed off absentmindedly, the skin no longer obscured by the sleeve in its raised position.
It was covered in bandages and gauze.
“Hm?” He turned to see what she was staring at, face turning grave as he quickly put his arm down.
He waved his hand dismissively, trying to ease the clearly concerned look on her face. “I— ah— you know how renovated sections of a building are— they tell you you can just walk right through and—“
“That’s against osha’s general duty clause. You’re bullshitting me.”
He grit his teeth, still maintaining a crooked smile. “Fuck— well— I’m not sure what you want from me then. what else am I supposed to tell you?”
The blonde lowered her head slightly. “The truth, obviously.” She said, voice a little louder than before. It almost sounded like a demand.
The man looked away from her, sliding off the seat and grabbing his blazer in tandem. He could barely get up without a wave of nausea hitting him, though he tried his best to not show it.
“It was….nice, talking to you. Have a good night, ma’am.”
The woman blinked. “Hey, you can’t just—“
“Have a good night, K███.”
The man didn’t even bother to glance back while exiting the bar— leaving the girl alone in her seat, with just alcohol and the dying sound of nearby laughter to keep her company. She faced forward in her chair again, knowing she’ll probably forget about him later, anyway.
She came here to forget her problems. So that’s what she’s going to do.