"WHY WON'T YOU LEAVE THAT CRAMPY OLD PLACE?"
I, despite the loud noise from my mother, cannot hear anything but the static noise from somewhere. There's no raging screams, no daring nagging, no irritated chirping. What I can hear is this passive ringing that's always there whenever I have to talk to my mother.
However poised and adorned with beautiful set of rubies that glinted whenever light touches it, the way her face contorted to reflect how badly angered she is blew all sophistication away.
Olive Grey.
The woman who never bowed to anyone, not even pride and ego itself. Tirelessly screaming, shouting, and nagging about my awful choices of lifestyle.
"That place is giving up! Is this how you really plan to live your life? Drowning in pity? Swimming in poverty?!"
"You are Grey! Live as such!"
"Mother, it's not crampy and old. It's just the way the apartment is" I tried to rationalize, keeping note of the respect I must show.
"Did I ask you to answer?!" she glared sharply.
I bowed my head instantly as I sighed, "I'm sorry, mother"
I don't know why this seemed to be my reality since I was a child. The reality I never failed to miss was only a nightmare after a long and exhausting day of my job. The job my mother abhors the most. The job she never brags to her colleagues.
There's no more than our mother-daughter relationship. I carry their name but I may not be considered a family. We may be related in blood but not with a heart. The distance that grow each time stops me from actually trying to make at least a level of mutual connection.
I closed my eyes, trying to retain self-awareness and remind myself that it is rude to talk back and under their roof, is strictly forbidden.
"You cannot honestly live in that place. Why won't you come here and stay?" she asked, tone already lowering, "Change job, Louise. How possibly can you earn a lot from being a blogger? Is that how you want to downgrade this family? A blogger?"
I did not answer and smiled sadly to myself. Whenever this happens, I should always maintain my stance, never let control vanish, never let myself disrespect someone. Keep my mouth shut. That's just it.
"You can take other job. I can find you a nice position to your father's company"
I shook her head respectfully, "Mother, I am happy with what I do—
"Happy? What happiness are you getting by writing nonsense? You're barely even earning enough money to sustain yourself!"
She just never understands.
"Mother, it's her choice. Let Louise live" my sister entered the living room with the cunning smile on her lips, "Poverty suits her" she smirked.
"Hi, sister" she greeted me, faking a sincere smile and even though I noticed that the smile is served to taunt me like it always does, I still chose to smile honestly.
"Hello, Luna" I greeted back before turning back to our mother.
"I want you to give up being a blogger, Louise. What can you honestly get from sitting behind the screen? Everyone that know us would ridicule our name because of this! This work!"
I bowed her head, not minding the way Luna chuckled menacingly and the way her index finger toyed with a strand of her hair. She was sitting beside my mother and is smirking at me.
"Oh, no. She cannot, mother" she spoke, "How could she give up something she writes her rants in?"
"Rants? That is very unbecoming! Louise Grey! Look at your sister, she always know how to choose!"
➴➴➴
I looked up from the one place I did not expect to be in. The place I did not, not even once, had thought of visiting until now.
I'm overwhelmed by my mother's constant nagging that I had completely forgotten the morals I should wave like a flag. The morals that define our family with dignified name.
I straightened my back and nibbled on my lips. This place is strictly prohibited. As per our mother's statement, bars are places you should never visit. But for tonight, I felt like acting on the side with a little secret rebellion. Make myself a bit better.
The place is booming with the loud music coming from inside, noises from people partying echoing the whole area and the smoke I can smell from people standing at the walls.
I just finished talking to mother and my sister that would not stop talking bad things to worsen mother's nagging. I cannot even have the strength to speak, save myself from the agony.
I began to contemplate whether I should really go inside or not. I've never been to bars. And if I do go in, it will completely be my first time.
Taking dubious step one after another, I reached the bouncer who peered at me from head to toe before making way and letting me pass. Once inside, I smelled even stronger doze of smoke, alcohol and the general scent that I assumed is just bars. The noises are even louder now.
There are people dancing in the dance floor, grinding their hips to one another and having fun.
Trying to find my way to the bar counter which took me minutes to really track because all these dizzy lights and people walking and just basically all too distracting. I sat by the stool and the bartender immediately approached me.
"New face. What can I get 'ya miss?" he asked with an accent.
I gulped. Wine? No. That's always been the first choice.
If I really want to be a rebel for the night I should choose something that's always been off the menu, "Beer"
The bartender smirked and playfully saluted, "On the house for new beautiful faces" he served me my first bottle of beer ever and I gulped nervously.
All of mother's voices roaring inside my mind, trying to stop me but she cannot really see me right now, can she?
Maybe even just for once, I can have the freedom to drink what I want to drink. No one here knows me and would not surely recognize me. Gripping the beer tight to my hand, I gulped and flinched when I felt the burning sensation on my tongue sliding down to my throat as I swallowed.
Is this really how alcohol works? I may have made a mistake. This tasted awful. I should've pick a nice sweet red wine.
"Maybe I can have iced tea instead" I murmured to myself but raised my head when I heard a husky chuckle coming from my right side.
"It'll get better. Drink up"
Curiously, I turned to where the voice came from and noticed what looked to be most blinding of charming smile, that wide stretch of lips and pearly white teeth. The stranger is undeniably good looking and what stood up the most is that rat's nest above his head. Untamable. Utterly messy but in way that complemented his looks.
He was leaning in at the counter a few inches away from me and his body is turned to face me.
"I suppose you're new here. Stressed?" he asked kindly.
Although I know about this general rule never to talk to strangers, I realized I cannot look away from the view that can level a flawless painter's work. That welcoming aura drew me in and his scent, that smile, and everything about him screams something I cannot recognize but found myself, appreciating.
That thought sparked more perplexity in me.
"You seem too uptight, miss. Live" the handsome man wink, his eyes running over my figure shamelessly that brought a blush on my cheeks, "You sit too straight. Bend a little" he added
"I don't speak to strangers" I finally opened my mouth to say something.
He laughed, acting so casual, "You just did"
I stilled. Okay, he got me there.
"What do you need?" I asked out of curiosity.
"And you currently are."
I sighed. He seems to be a person who just go with the flow, a carefree person.
"But to answer your question, I noticed you"
"Noticed me?" I didn't know what he meant and was wondering what could he possibly notice in me. I'm just, well, me.
The man nodded, "Out of all people in here, you're the only one who's wearing conservative clothes. It just strike me with interest"
That got me. I turned to my beer and without thinking, took another huge gulp and coughing when the burning sensation felt worse than the first time. I flinched when I felt a warm hand behind me, gently patting my back as I tried to regain composure.
Why do beers taste like this? It's no wonder mother hates them. It burns.
"I-I'm fine" it took me minute to get my poise back because of the feel of his hand. I'm sure of that. I really did feel something.
"You really can't drink, can you?" he asked while pulling his hand away.
"I should go" I stood up, wanting to get away from this bar and him too. I cannot talk to a stranger that's making me feel something new.
"Now? It's still early"
I nodded, already feeling the regret of stepping inside this bar. I fixed myself before walking away without another word to the stranger but I thought I heard something from him but when I look back he was focused straight ahead.
"May we meet again, Louise"
I shook my head. It must be my imagination.