Apricots - Ruel Van Dijk

Chapter 5 - I finish in 10

TW this chapter displays alcohol, consumption of alcohol and a very VERY brief mention of suicide

Teliah's POV

My tears taste like you

Taste just like salt and wine

*

"Can I grab a Tiger and your number?" an elderly man winked, to which I nearly gagged.

"A Tiger coming right up," I turned and walked down the bar to the beer taps. I was used to this, old men came to the bar and hit on us bartenders all the time. I was glad not to be one of the waitresses, they got hit on at almost every table they took a drink to.

I was dying to get out of this job. It was absolutely awful. I had always dreamed of becoming a landscaper. I loved planting and nature. I'm not entirely sure why, it was just something I had always loved. The other thing I loved just as much was reading, but you can't really make a job of that.

I filled up a glass with beer, condensation collecting on the cup as it filled. I took the cup off the counter and slid it to the man, who gave me another wink. I plastered a smile as I turned around and silently cursed him.

"Another creepy guy?" I heard a familiar voice chuckle. I looked up to see a pair of green eyes and a head of bouncy curls. Rory. I smiled widely at the sight of her. When I first started working at this bar, I was living on my friends couches. And then I met Rory, and she offered to let me live in her attic. Since then, we had become best friends.

"Yeah," I sighed. I leant my hip on the side of the bar, rubbing my face with my palms.

"I wish more young guys came to this bar, we need to get you a boyfriend so we can go on double dates," she joked, cheekily smiling at me. I knew that underlying that joke, there was more to it. Rory constantly worried I would be alone. I wasn't really in a good place mentally when I first started working at this bar, and Rory was really one of the only reasons I was still here today. She worried that if I didn't have someone else to rely on, if she moved jobs or moved with her boyfriend, that I would go back into that state. So she was always trying to get me to be more social and outgoing. But it never really worked. I wasn't a very social person and most people couldn't handle my attitude.

"Oooh speaking of guys, look behind you," she smirked, pointing behind me. I swiftly moved my head to see where she was pointing. I was met with a strangely familiar figure, hazel eyes glinting in the dim lighting of the bar. I gazed over to who he was talking to, an annoyed huff leaving my mouth once I saw who it was.

Kayla.

Kayla was a 40-year-old lady who came to this bar all the time. She was so...weird. She had dark hair that raked down to her shoulders, a surgically altered body that just looked outrageously unhealthy, and a face caked with makeup. It wasn't any of that that made her weird though, it was her attitude. She flirted with every fucking guy that walked into the bar. It didn't matter how old or young they were, she would just twirl her hair, bat her eyelashes, and say some suggestive jokes. It was disgusting to watch.

I looked back to the guy, who was laughing nervously. I could tell from his features that he was uncomfortable. After scrutinising his face for a few more seconds, I realised where I knew him from. My eyes widened. White shirt, hazel eyes, weird haircut...this was the guy I had run into in the morning.