At a glance, he was an average man in an average bar. Head down, unbuttoned shirt, empty glass in front of him. But if you looked closely, there was a lot more to this man. You'd see a sad man. A depressed man. A broken man.
His face was blanketed by his chocolate curls, his forehead resting against the edge of the bar. He smelled of whiskey, vodka, Bourbon...A combination of the many alcoholic drinks he had consumed that night and previous nights. However, it was his eyes. His eyes that spoke of the pain he was enduring.
Eyes that once were happy, cheerful, bright. But these eyes now were sullen, dark, and sad. They were hazel, with small spurts of green, but they now were dark and cloudy. His eyes had seen too much. Too many memories and too many stories. The many years of happiness he had seen with those eyes. But now all he saw was despair.
And what had caused all of this? What brought him so much hurt and so many tears? The answer was simple. Love. Love had brought him this pain. It was the one person who brought him so much happiness who eventually brought him to his current state of melancholy.
He looked up at the clock, the hands blurred from tears and alcohol, but he could still see the time was 12:46 a.m. Sighing, he allowed a few more tears slip down his cheeks and fall onto the bar. He reached for the bottle of cheap vodka he had bought almost two hours ago, but the bartender had already taken it away. He bought it and drank it slowly. Slow enough that every sip burned. He wanted to get drunk and he wanted to get drunk slowly. Slow enough that it hurt, so he would feel something more than sadness.
Letting out a shaky sigh, he looked again at the clock, seeing it was now 12:47. He considered going home, but what was the use? His small flat was dirty, cramped, and dark. Not much of a contrast to the bar at which he currently was seated, but at least there were people here. He didn't accept any help from these people, though, he wanted to wallow in sadness and self-pity. He wanted to feel the pain, to feel every ounce of hurt that he had brought upon himself.
He looked around the dimly-lit barroom, seeing the usual suspects that occupied the joint this early in the morning. A few cheap hookers, a few drunks, and a few people much like himself. It was like this every night, when the people on their way from work went home. They bought their drinks and laughed and talked with their friends until it was time for dinner. So, they went home to their wives and children, leaving the filthy and the dirty. The people who didn't deserve to live or didn't want to live. And that was who Brian was. A man who didn't want to live.
Brian was about to once again rest his head against the bar, but the sound of music playing from the jukebox stopped him. It wasn't just any sound, not just any song. It was the song. The song that brought him back to a million years ago, to a time when things were better...happier. When he was happy and his world was happy.
It's late in the evening
She's wondering what clothes to wear
She puts on her makeup
And brushes her long, blonde hair
"Let's dance!"
Roger's smile grew when he heard Brian's words, and immediately stood to join his lover. Wrapping his arms around the taller man, Roger gazed up into Brian's eyes, swaying softly to the familiar song. Brian rested his hands on Roger's back, leaning down so their foreheads touched. It was such a beautiful moment for the two of them, just them in their bedroom, candles lit, the soft music emanating from the radio. It was just Roger and Brian and no one else.
Roger soon rested his head against Brian's chest, feeling the beat of the older man's heart.
"How did I get so lucky? What did I ever do to deserve the love of the most amazing man in the world?"
