Escapism.

Chapter 2

You stepped into the familiarity of Wit's End, waving to the hostess on duty, Ichibel. She was a slim, tall, dark-haired beauty. She waved you and Lisa through and Lisa leaned into you, smiling at Ichibel. "I would so fuck the living daylights out of her!" She said, then peeled away, headed straight for the bar.

You followed her, shaking your head and smiling to yourself. It was packed, typical for a Friday night. Good timing on James' part, you guessed. There would be plenty of fish in this sea tonight.

After you and Lisa ordered drinks, a simple whiskey on the rocks to start you off, and a Bloody Mary for her. She sipped at it, immediately throwing the celery into the trash bin next to the bar. She scrunched her nose and stirred the drink a bit more. "This thing has like, zero vodka in it." She shrugged and danced a bit in her seat, humming along to the music. You sipped at your own drink, giving the crowd a once-over. There were plenty of hot guys, but you wanted to get a bit tipsier before making your way out on the dance floor. It had been so long that you were afraid of embarrassing yourself.

An hour or so had passed and you were significantly tipsy, out in the crowd with Lisa, swaying to the beat of one of the popular songs of the month, Bloody Mary by Lady Gaga. A throwback for sure, and the girls on stage were definitely throwing it back. You watched, mesmerized. Maybe I should consider starting that, you thought to yourself. You had a bit of practice, as Lisa performed quite often, and had taught you a few moves in hopes that you would be able to use them with James, although he was never interested in anything except missionary.

You shook the thought of him out of your head, signaling to Lisa that you were heading back to the bar for another drink. She nodded, not stopping her grinding on the man behind her.

Once you got back to the bar, you looked over the menu, not as familiar with the drinks as you wished, as you obviously didn't drink on the job. Someone bumped into you and you turned to glare at them, locking your eyes on crystal blue ones. The man was grinning, and the first thing you noticed was his mohawked head before he leaned down to your ear and apologized. Scottish, you thought.

He turned back to his group, and that's when you noticed. All three of them were built, but one of them stood out. He was the tallest, with the largest build, and most curiously, a black balaclava with a skull print on the front. He had orange-red tinted sunglasses tucked into the neckline of his black hoodie. He turned to look at you, and his eyes were dark empty holes. You stared back for a minute before turning back to the menu. You could hear two of them talking and laughing.

"Soap, what are you getting for your first birthday drink!" The shortest of them asked excitedly, almost like a child. What the hell kind of a name is Soap?

"Probably a good ole classic Scotch," he admitted, holding the menu.

"That's so boring though," the short one whined, pointing at one of the menu items. "What about that one? Sunset Paradise, that sounds good!"

"I'm Scottish, not a unicorn," Soap admonished, "I'm not drinking that. That's a girly drink. I'm not a girl, Roach." The short one shrugged. What the hell kind of a name is Roach?

"Fine, I'll get that one then. I don't have fragile masculinity."

"You don't have any masculinity." The masked one grunted, crossing his arms. "I'll have a bourbon," he told the bartender, who nodded and began his and Soap's drinks.

You ordered a glass of champagne, a bit basic but one of your favorites. Something that James let you drink. I really need to stop doing that, you thought to yourself. What you needed was a distraction, and the masked man blatantly staring at you would be a good choice, you thought. You quickly finished the first glass and ordered a second one.