KATELYNN
The Venetian city glowed brightly under the night lights of the beautiful city, setting a warm mood that seemed to soothe my anger as I strolled along the narrow streets. With each breath I took, a sense of comfort seeped in. After the arguments with Father, my mind craves alcohol, its bittersweet taste, and its ability to erase my worries. An escape from reality. I needed it, an escape from the expectations, and the constant pressures of being Katelynn Moore, the eldest daughter and the successor of a business tycoon.
I found myself walking into a dimly lit bar, that stood in the middle of two ancient buildings. Inside, the atmosphere was harmonious, with gentle chatters and murmurs, mixed with laughter and the soft voice of the Soprano singer on the stage. It felt like a haven to hide away in for a little while.
I strode to the bartender's counter, with my hand clenched on my purse. "Excuse me?" I called out to him, my voice was low yet loud to get his attention. He looked up at me with a wide grin on his face. He was beautiful, with black sleek hair. "Do you speak English?" I asked, don't want to repeat my mistake from earlier.
"Non, Parlo solo Italiano," he replied, with a grin still on his face. Confusion washed over me as I stared at him in disbelief. What is this? A tradition of annoying foreigners? Why am I getting played today?
I rolled my eyes at him, "Well, I don't understand Italian either but since you understood me perfectly, can I get your strongest alcoholic wine?"
"Mmm, going through a rough day huh?" he asked, concerned, his voice was thick and laced with his Italian accent as he spoke. "Give me a minute." He walked to the rack that held different varieties of wine and drew out a bottle from it. He poured it and a few other drinks into a shaker and shook it professionally. After he was done, he poured the mixed drink into a Vintage-cut glass tumbler and dropped it in front of me. "Here you go."
"Thank you," I greeted, pumped up to drown my sad self in the sea of liquor. I gulped down the whole content in the cup all at once. A hiss escaped my lips as I felt the burning sensation of the liquid in my throat. This is quite strong and I loved it. "This is strong and good!" I exclaimed. The tumbler made a loud sound as it hit the counter, "Add more,"
"Yeah?," He brought out the drinks he had used earlier and placed them on the counter gently. He began mixing immediately.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" I asked curiously as I placed my right hand under my jaw, he glanced at me puzzledly, and a smile crept up his face, he shook his head and continued his mixing. "How silly of me to ask an obvious question. Of course, a beautiful man like you must have a girlfriend or girlfriends." I winked at him mischievously.
"I do not have a girlfriend," he corrected, still on his job.
"Be my boyfriend, beautiful boy," I flirted carelessly.
He shook his head lightly, handed me the readied drink and I gulped it down all at once again. "Easy on how you take all that in at once, Signorina," he warned, as he stared at me baffled.
The tingling sensation in my throat lingered, it felt like a small prick in my throat. My head spun and my inside twisted. I began to feel lightheaded, subconsciously aware of my surroundings. I signaled him to make another glass of the drink. He opened his mouth but closed it almost immediately as he shrugged his shoulders.
As time stretched, my impatience had me gazing around the bar searching for nothing. My eyes caught the gaze of another beautiful man across the bar, his gaze was fixated on me. He glared at me as though I was someone he knew. I withdrew my gaze from his immediately, focusing my attention back on the bartender. He was done with my drink and he placed it in front of me. I gulped down the content and wiped my mouth making an "ahh" sound.
The world began to spin around me, the corners became blurry, and I felt so light like a feather.
"Buona sera," a thick italic voice cut through my daze, a smooth tone that spread warmth through my body. I had barely noticed when he sat down beside me. I glanced sideways in the direction of the voice, my vision a little blurry, but his charm was undeniable even though I was drunk. "My name is Romano Alessandro," he introduced himself simply but it slipped my memory the moment he spoke. "Mind if I buy you a drink?" he asked, like a true gentleman but I politely declined. I wasn't interested in another party to join me.
As I sized him up, I replied "Yes sir, I can pay for my drinks,"
"It's Romano, and I insist," he urged.
"Mr. Roman or Rowando, thank you for your offer but I can pay for my drinks," I declined politely, but annoyed at his persistence.
"Make another glass of whatever she is having," He instructed the bartender who was watching our little display.
Anger surged through me, and I turned my head sharply in his direction, "I said I can afford my drinks, Sir," I snarled between clenched teeth. "And you," I said, as I turned my head back to face the bartender, "I thought we had something,"
He raised his hand in a surrendering gesture, "Business always first, Signorina." I watched him mix the drink as a few italic words left his mouth. "Questa stronza è pazza,"
"Come osi insultare una signora?!" the familiar thick voice spoke and the bartender's mood switched up immediately. I glanced between the man at my side and the bartender in front of me as they held a staring competition between one another, after a few seconds the bartender gave up and went back to mixing the drink. He dragged the tumbler closer, poured in the drink, and pushed it back to me. "Drink," the man instructed, his voice was a low one of laced with authority.
"If you insist," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes as I gulped down the drink.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked, as he flashed me a bright smile.
I ignored him, too drunk to argue. The fourth glass knocked me off balance and cobbled with the annoying man by my side. I signaled for the bartender to give me my bill, so I could leave. The place was becoming too cramped. He left and came back with it. I reached for the money in my purse, picked out the certain, and slammed it on the counter.
As I stood up from the chair, my legs wobbled as they met the hard concrete floor, and I almost lost balance but was quick to get a hold of myself. "Are you sure you want to leave this place in that state?" the man asked, his glass hanging below his mouth.
"You gave me no choice," I replied cynically.
"C'mon, I only bought you a drink," he explained
"Yeah, a drink you forced me to drink…
"Alright, I'm sorry if you felt insulted," he apologized.
"It is undeniable that you are all beautiful, but have a nasty character," I complained.
"Yeah? Tell me about it," he replied, his voice swallowed by the sound of his throat as he gulped his drink. I couldn't help but stare at his Adam's Apple dancing up and down. I swallowed hard on my saliva, to wet the dryness behind my throat. I need water.
My mouth was open in response to his demand but closed up almost immediately as I had lost my words. His eyes locked into mine, and as they held unspoken conversations with my eyes, I felt an unfamiliar shiver of thrill spread through my body. "Well, you see, Miss?"
"Katelynn, Katelynn Moore," I responded, quickly in anticipation of what he was about to say.
"Miss Katerin…
"KateLYNN," I corrected him immediately the mispronunciation of my name left his lips.
"Katelynn? Mind if I call you Lynna for short?" he requested and I nodded in agreement. I did not know how that rhymed at that moment but I found myself dancing to his rhythm. "I don't know the Italian men you have encountered but I can assure you, I am different,"
I scoffed, blowing raspberries, "You just did. You assumed I needed a drink from you, which I didn't because I was perfectly fine on my own. He assumed me to be a man because he had never heard of female children taking over the business of their families."
"He did? That is absurd. There are female successors everywhere," he replied.
"I told him the same thing, he is living in the modern world with an ancient mentality,"
He chuckled lightly, shook his head, and signaled to the bartender to get more glasses of the drinks. "You are a funny one,"
"That wasn't funny,"
"Yeah? If you say so," he said, with a smile.
"Did you think that was funny?" I asked to confirm his reason for the laughter.
"It was hell-ass funny to me," he responded, as he sipped the drink slowly, his eyes glared at me from under his long lashes. Suddenly, I burst out into laughter, no certain cause for my laughter but the feeling lingered. Soon he joined, as our laughter rose to the roof of the bar barely heard through the murmurs and chatters.
Time slipped away, unnoticed as the bar slowly emptied around us. I became extremely aware of his every movement, the way his eyes lingered on mine. The slight brush of his hand against mine across the counter. "Do you want to see the city from the water?"