Death of a bachelor

Victorious

The room was badly lit, only a few spotlights made some parts of the crowded and music filled room visible.

The women wore skintight revealing clothes. The classic high heels and red lipstick was a common characteristic in the dark, sweaty premises. This night was more or less a dream in Brendon's mind as well as an escape. He marched with confidence to the bar and leaned over the table, "a gin and tonic" he said and snapped his fingers. He didn't look at the bartender, his attention was far, far away.

He usually drowned his sorrows in alcohol. He knows it's wrong, but it works doesn't it?
His eyes caught a woman with skin as cool as Steve Mcqueen. He couldn't get his eyes off her until the bartender tapped on his shoulder to show him his glass. Brendon turned around confused and took up the glass as he started to walk toward the double bubble disco queen.

Usually he isn't this forward, but there was something about this girl. She seemed special in a way.

They locked eyes immediatly, her eyes was bright blue and his eyes was like broken christmas lights. He smiled and put his hand on her hand, his touch was black and poisonous. The second she felt his touch she shivered.

Brendon dragged her into the dancing crowd and held his arms around her, they danced. And they danced.

He liked her, even though he had only known her for a couple of hours, he didn't want to ruin this, not with this one. Not again.

As the night got wilder and as the glasses got emptier, Brendon got drunker.
"Ooh yeah! Let's turn up the crazy!" He yelled when he stood on a table with his shirt off, covered in glitter.
He popped open a bottle of champagne and poured the bubbly liquid all over the crowd.
"Tonight we are victorous!"
He jumped off the table and drew support by the blue eyed woman. Her lipstick was smeared. She helped him sit down and gave him a glass of water. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, "throw the bait, catch the shark, bleed the water red." She drew her fingers through his hair before she turned around and went out of the club. Brendon watched her disappear in the doorway but he was too drunk to think straight and do something about it. Did he ruin it again?
He took the last sip of the water and stumbled through the club, he turned around and shouted,
"All my friends, we're glorious!" And went home.

The alarm clock pierced through the air and hit the wall with a big crash. Brendon turned around and pressed his pillow onto his head. Everything hurt like fucking hell.

His phone rang.
"Fucking damn fuck!" With aggression he threw his body around and answered the phone, "What?!" His voice cracked. An angry, loud voice shouted in the phone's speaker,
"Brendon, god fucking dammit! Again? Really? Are you fucking with me? You better be here in 15 minutes or else I'll fucking slit your throat!" The person hung up.

It was his boss, Brendon has been late for work two weeks straight due to partying all night.
He rolled out of bed and took on a pair of pants and a white shirt. "Never ever again, never ever again." He mumbled knowing he'll probably end up at the club tonight again anyways.