The night air was chilly, and Iris shivered in her shorts and top. She took a swig of her drink, which burned a path down her throat that she enjoyed. The small dingy little pub was alive with the sound of music and the chattering of its patrons. The sounds washed over Iris as she swallowed her drink quickly. Warmth burst through her body, starting in her belly and moving to her bones. Some of the tension finally left the back of her neck, and she finally relaxed.
“Iris!” Someone finally called from behind, and she turned to see David. His cheeks were flushed already, and he had an idiot grin. Iris laughed, the sound ringing out sweetly and piercing the music. “Haven’t seen you here in forever. The others were thinking you had died.” “I didn’t die, I just didn’t want to leave the house for a little bit,” she replied as she searched her pockets for a packet of cigarettes. Her shorts have come up with nothing except an almost empty lighter, Iris, with the ease of long familiarity, dug into David’s front pocket and grabbed his box. He made a mockery of trying to grab his cigarettes before conceding as she lit one and blew the smoke in his face. They devolved into giggles and hopeless laughter. Laughing felt good even as her insides started to hurt from the laughter. “You could have just asked, you know?” he said while he lit his cigarette and blew the smoke into her face when he was done taking a long drag. “What would be the fun in that?” Iris stubbed the cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. She took her glass from the table and motioned to him, offering him one silently. David nodded, and Iris wandered inside and waved down Markie, who was conversing with someone as he poured drinks. She showed him her glass and two fingers to ask for a refill. He nodded, and a few moments later, two glasses full of Jack and Coke were put in front of her. She smiled at him in thanks and walked back outside to David. She plonked his drink before him, and Iris sat opposite him. David offered her another cigarette, which she took with a grateful smile.
Iris and David sat there in companionable silence, not speaking much other than the occasional murmur of how quickly their drinks were being swallowed. People stopped at their tables and had short conversations with them. “My glass has a hole in it,” Iris whispered as the world spun around her. David giggled like a small child. a shadow fell over them, and Iris looked up to see Brendon. The world still spun around her. “Iris, are you drunk?” Irris giggled a little bit and showed him a half-empty glass. “I don’t know. I can’t remember how many I’ve had.” David also giggled and opened his packet of cigarettes, only to find none left in the box. He cursed in a soft whisper and stood up and stumbled off to find some more. “You shouldn’t be drinking right now. Wynne is already pissed off with you and me for last night’s escapade.” Iris looked at him over the top of her glass with narrowed eyes. “Fuck Wynne, and fuck you too for thinking that he controls my life. He doesn’t own me.” She hissed before she stood up. “Then why are you still with him?” Iris stumbled over an empty beer bottle someone had abandoned earlier at night. Brendon caught her and she clutched at his arm. “Let me pay your tab, and then I’ll go drop you off at home so you can sleep this off. I’ll even phone Wynne if you want me to.” Iris shook her head. “I don’t want to go home to that empty house, I don’t want Wynne. I just want to sit here and drink in peace.”
Brendon smiled, almost indulgently and sat Iris back down at the table. “Only if you drink some water and have a bite to eat.” She nodded in assent, and he took his backpack off his back and rummaged through it for a moment before pulling out a slightly squashed meat pie. “I think this is pepper steak. I bought it after I left your place and forgot about it until now.” He offered it to Iris, and she smiled before taking it. The pie was quickly unwrapped, and a large bite was taken. Iris moaned in joy as the flavours of the meat pie burst over her tongue. It was spicy and sweet, and the gravy was perfect with pieces of pepper and slivers of steak. Her body did a tiny little wiggle of joy. “I’m sorry for earlier.” She looked at him with gravy all over her mouth; her eyes turned up in surprise. Iris swallowed. “It’s rare for you to apologise, Brends,” Iris whispered as she wiped thick brown gravy off her face. Brendon gave what could have almost been a smile. “It’s rare to see you here without Wynne hanging over your shoulder like an overgrown plant.”
The music pulsed around them. She moved in time with the music in short bursts of wiggles and foot stomping. Brendon sat down opposite her, taking the seat David had barely vacated moments before. He stared at her intently, and Brendon smiled and leaned back to scratch in his pockets. He frowned before his hand brought out a squashed packet of cigarettes and a Zippo. A cigarette was quickly lit, and smoke was exhaled. Iris was fascinated by how effortless he made everything seem. He looked at her. “What happened this morning?” Iris asked as she wiped crumbs from her top. Brendon’s face tightened, and momentarily, she saw pain flash across his face before it was wiped away. “I have been in love with you for so long, even when I married that witch. You never saw me as more than your best friend, so I stayed, even when I watched you make the biggest mistakes of your life by dating that prick, Wynne, and I know I could give you more and be better than he ever was.” The table's wood was rough when Iris put her hands on it. She ran her hands over it, feeling the splinters dig into her skin as she searched for something to ease the pain of her best friend. “Brends, I’m sorry. I never realised or imagined that you felt like that. I always imagined you loved Isabelle; you guys always seemed so happy together.” Iris replied softly, her eyes on the table; “Even when you were on the drugs, you always wanted to go home. I dropped you off at home more times than I care to count or even remember.”
Brendon looked down at the table in shame. He remembered the nights Iris had put herself in harm’s way to come and fetch him in whichever drug den he had found himself in that night. He recalled the number of times she had taken money out of her purse to give to the night’s dealer so that he could get his cellphone back, how she had helped him get up from pools of his vomit to get him to a safe place where the drugs would work their way out of his system. His shame deepened when he remembered how often Iris had looked a dealer in their cold dead eyes with a gun pointed in her face and stood her ground for his sake. He had begged her on the bad nights to take him home, and Iris had never realised that his home was with her, that those were the nights that he had wanted to go home with her even if it meant enduring the wrath of her grandfather the following morning.
Brendon’s hands tightened into fists, and something popped. It was hard for him to breathe when he remembered how hard he had made her life a few months ago.
“Brends?” He looked up into her icy eyes, which he could have sworn almost glowed with silver. Even then, he wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her until she forgot about Wynne and his bullshit. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and keep her safe even though he knew she could protect herself. He shook his head and brought himself back to the present. “I’m sorry that I made you go through all of that. You shouldn’t have had to.” Iris smiled, and his heart lightened. “I wish I could love you how you deserve, but I can’t. I have to at least try with Wynne before I just give up. I appreciate your honesty, though.”
Iris stood up and walked away. She seated herself at the bar and waved to Markie, getting his attention. Short and portly but also one of the more homely bartenders at the pub called Hole in the Wall. Iris adored his quick wit and warm hugs, and it kept her coming back to this pub as dingy and run down as it was. “Another Jack, love?” he asked as he looked for her empty glass, which she had left outside on the table with Brendon. She nodded and looked behind her to the people playing pool. The clack-clack of the white hitting the rest of the balls was almost soothing, and Iris breathed in deep the smell of beer and cigarettes. A clink came from the bar, and she turned to see Markie placing her glass on the bar counter; he smiled and touched her hand softly. “Whatever brought you here in the middle of the week looking like you have been to hell and back, I hope that you show them no mercy.” Iris smiled and took a sip of her drink. Markie had made it a little stronger than usual and batted her eyelashes at him in appreciation. “If I didn’t know any better, Markie, I would say that you are trying to get me drunk.” He laughed; the sound came straight from his belly, he looked at her dead in the eyes, and shook his head. “I made it stronger because you deserve it.”