He frequented your bar. Alright, it wasn't your bar, but it may as well have been with how much time you spent singing in it. Either way, Rafael Barba frequented your bar. You'd see him sitting in nearly the same spot every time he came, his dressy jacket hung on the back of his barstool as he nursed what was some kind of whiskey. Your money was on that fancy bourbon that was served here, because he just looked a little classier than some of the other whiskey men you'd seen.
And some days, like today, he'd have a cloud around him. A dark shadow on his face as he kept to himself in a way that was almost haunting and kept away others who would have otherwise went up and spoken to him. Clearly, days like today were hard ones for the man in the corner of your bar.
You reach for the microphone upon finishing your last song, getting the applause expected with a lounge environment- loud, but not rowdy, "Thank you, thank you. I'd like to dedicate this next song to someone who looks like they could use it." You lock eyes with him easily enough, sending him a smile through the dim lighting of the bar as you nod towards him, "This one's for you, Mister Barba."
YOU ARE READING
Rafael Barba Imagines
FanfictionHere are some of my favorite imagines that I pulled from tumblr, none of the imagines are mine. So if you want the credited owner of the story, copy and paste the story in google and the blog should pop up with the author.
