I walked inside the bar, the whole place lit up like the sun. Rainbow lasers shot around, decorating the darkness of night. I was welcomed by the manager slapping me on the back. "Hey! You're Rome right? The new bartender?" He said lazily, leaning his whole body weight on me. There was a moment of silence as I threw his hand off and stared at him, eyes narrow. "You got drunk before I even got here."
"Yeah, my bad. I can still drink though!" He chuckled, dragging me to the desk. "Here, make a drink and we can have it together." He took out 2 straws and placed them into 1 cup.
"Haha, funny." I said, rolling my eyes as I tied a knot at the back of my apron . "I'll make you one, but I don't drink."
"A bartender who doesn't driiiink?" he exclaimed, before collapsing on the table.
"Yes. A bartender who doesn't drink. Can you piss off to the side so I can make the drink in peace?" I said, nudging his shoulders. He spread himself out on the desk, not giving any space for the cups.
I let out an exasperated groan and lifted his head up to see his eyes closed as he snored soundly. He'd already passed out. "Yeah, 'can still drink' my ass." I said, pushing his body away.
****************
As the night progressed, I suddenly fell under the trail of my own thoughts. I looked outside into the street...I was so close to finally seeing him again. I saw Carlos where he stood, dressed perfectly with his hair slicked back. He had been waiting for an hour now- I was anticipating his arrival. The lamppost he stood under worked like a spotlight, highlighting his beauty and painting his skin as other individuals walked by. However, Carlos didn't need a spotlight. He was just as special without it.
The long week of supervision was finally over. I could finally pursue the man I had longed for, the man that turned my nightmares into dreams.
But I would make him pay for leaving me that day. Make him pay for the 4 years I spent in agony longing to hear his voice again. It wasn't easy finding out where he resided with the limited resources I had, following him in the streets whilst being followed myself. I still kept the picture of him I had stolen from the records of the hospital under my mattress; He was beautiful from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice. He was attractive from his generous opinions to the touch of his hand upon my own. I loved the way I could frighten him easily, scare him enough so that he lost himself for a moment and quite forgot the mask he wore for others. I wanted to rupture his beauty with some scars of my own, stamp my mark on him and keep him under my dominance forever.
Hearing his words as he yelled over the phone already told me I wouldn't have to deal with any lovers before I claimed him as my own. I would use his mind as my collage, the paintbrush forming new wires that would lead to different possibilities.
I stood patiently, as Carlos turned around. His appearance struck me, my mouth popping open slightly. His features were ever more perfect than before. His beauty had not only remained, it had grown.
But there was something else that aroused me more. In his tears was the inner soul pleading for freedom, and there, in that moment, was a chance to reach in and give him the stability he needed. It was a clear canvas waiting for the brush to touch its surface, before it created a masterpiece for the whole world to see. His swollen eyes spoke his emotion; they spoke the truth to his heartbreak.
He came closer and sat down, slouching on the stool directly in front of me. "You were very loud out there." I said. My words made him sit up suddenly.
"Sorry?" He asked, the innocence of his face making my blood rush up into my face.
"Even over that music, I heard the phone call. You good?" I said, truthful but wanting to see how he'd react. He suddenly pouted, and said, "No. Can I have your strongest drink please?"
"Sure." I smiled, wider than I had in a while. I got up and went to the other table beside him and shook up some ice in a metal cup. I looked at him and lay down as I made it. The brown locks of his hair shone under the light. But I heard his small cries from where he sat, and interrupted him by slamming the drink down in front of him. He looked up, his eyes watery and sore. "It's on me. Drink to your heart's content."
***************
Happiness was in the moment, my heart beaming with the light to my soul knowing I had found him once again. I felt excitement, accomplishment. It drained through me rather than skating over my skin, driving my blood circulation faster around my body. I watched Carlos as he danced his heart out, drinking as much as he could. He was past his limit now as he came staggering towards the desk, where he stumbled into my arms. "Another on-" He tried saying, waving his finger around in the air. I grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer towards me. "No, you're too drunk Carlos." I hadn't taken caution with his name, he was too dazed to notice anything anyways. He tried squirming out of grasp, but each time he tried to I pulled him further onto me, feeling his heartbeat. His pulse quickened as he examined my body, eyes trailing down and then back up to my face. I smirked, knowing what he was thinking. "I'm sleepy!" He wailed, like a little child who didn't get what they wanted.
This was an opportunity. "Don't worry, I'll take y-" Before I could finish my sentence, his head swooped down into my arms as he fell to the side. I tried calling out to him before he passed out, but it was too late. Carlos Adson, once a dominant therapist for serial killers, slept soundly like a baby in my hands. I laughed at his stupidity and gripped his jaw to see his face more clearly. "I've got you now, Carlos." I whispered in his ear, slicking his hair back with my palm. "You're mine tonight."