"Here you go." She said, placing the booze in front of me, "And here's a beer too, to wash it down." She winked, placing a full glass of amber liquid beside it.
"That one's on me." She added, leaning forward a bit.
Before I could thank her, she vanished to the other end of the bar, once again polishing her glasses. That was a trick of bartenders, I supposed, you got to really know when your patron needs a drink.
A shadow fell over my shoulder as I turned around, expecting to see Eric greeting me.
Instead, it was the handsome man from the corner of the bar.
He slid into the chair next to me, no doubt seeking the attention of the girl with the lipstick.
I sipped at my beer, swirling the shot, doubting now if I really wanted it.
"Is that an IPA?" He asked casually, leaning his cheek against one of his smooth hands, "Good choice."
"Ah." I responded awkwardly, noticing the way the bartender glanced our way and then swiftly back to her job. It wasn't an IPA, it was some sort of sweet, wheaty beer, but whatever.
He flipped his head slightly, blond locks shading his piercing eyes. Eyes that locked onto me. I suddenly felt as though I were a deer he was gazing at through the barrel of his rifle. I was his target, his prey.
It was unsettling.
"That's my favorite type of beer." He nodded firmly, his eyes dropping to the shot glass in front of me, "Hey Sandy, can we get another one of those over here?"
The girl with red lips, Sandy, slowly walked over to us, her eyes shifting between us sourly as her lips worked on a smile. I could tell now, all of her smiles were fake. I knew that feeling well.
Quickly, I down my shot before Sandy could even begin to pour his. I wasn't going to share Lucas's tradition with another man, not yet.
"Uh, I guess make that two?" The man corrected as I dug through my purse and planted a twenty on the counter.
"I'm leaving." I said simply, slinging my purse over my shoulder and hugging my sweater close as I walked out of the bar, leaving behind two very confused people.
Awkwardly, I glanced behind me, where I could still see the lingering gaze of Sandy as she watched me leave. I turned to face forward too slowly, plowing headlong into the chest of an oncoming man.
Gasping in surprise, the too familiar scent of a savory cologne bit my nostrils, sending me pin wheeling back in shock.
Dark hands grasped my shoulders as I stumbled, straightening me once more. The warm, brown eyes of my old friend watched me, concern in their dark depths.
"I'm okay." I said firmly, stepping back once he released me.
"Not a fan of the bar?" He asked with a chuckle, his voice velvety smooth, “It’s usually pretty pleasant in there.”
I shrugged, unwilling to trouble him with a silly little tale.
It was because of Eric that I even met Lucas.
They'd been roommates in college and I'd had a huge crush on Eric. I'd stare at him across math class, sighing every time his deep voice broke the silence of the room.
It was on our first (and only) date that I met Lucas for the very first time.
I remembered clearly walking through his front door, allowing Eric to take my coat. When I turned around, Lucas was there. He strode across the room, beer can in his hand as he walked towards the TV. It was so silly, so simple, but under those flickering dorm lights and the fuzzy hollers of a football game, I fell in love immediately. It was as though the very breath had been stolen from inside of me.
Eric knew it too, the way that I stared at Lucas. Instead of going to his room so we could be alone, we sat on their tattered, tiny couch, me nervously planted between the two.
Two years later, Eric stood beside Lucas as we said our wedding vows.
I glanced up from the water glass in front of me, watching as Eric shoveled another piece of steak into his mouth. I picked at my salad, appetite nonexistent. I
"He'd want you to eat, you know." The dark haired man said quietly, "He'd want you to be healthy."
"I had a snack at the bar." I shrugged, lying. I don't think I'd managed a full meal in the six months since the accident. Eric was right, I did need to stay nourished, but it was so difficult.
"Have you been playing?" Eric asked after a few moments of deafening silence smothered the table.
My gaze shot up to meet his, lips pursing tightly. He very well knew the answer to that question. My piano had been left behind, just like my family. Both bore too much pain.
He sighed, shaking his head. His own lips parted, as though he were searching for words that did not come.
The bill was quietly dropped at the end of the table. I snatched it up before Eric had a chance to even move towards it. I'd promised to take him out after all, I’d only begun paying him back for getting me the job with Roma Industry.