The young woman walked into the cool-toned bar. Soft murmurs bounced off the walls with dance music in the background. The lighting was low, a hue of blue cascading over the entire room.
She sat herself down on one of the stools. Placing her clutch purse on the counter space near her. "Excuse me," the woman calls out, trying to gain the attention of the bartender.
The man, seemingly in his mid-thirties, made his way over to her. "Is there anything I can get for you, Miss?" He ask while leaning over the counter space.
"Yes," she places her hands delicately out in front of her, "can I get a drink called 'I want to forget what happened tonight'?"
The man gives her a confused look, raising a brow. She waits patiently for him to respond.
"Ah, yes. I'll be right back with your drink." The bartender turns around to get to work.
The young woman takes her phone out of her bag and checks it absentmindedly. No notifications. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting. A call or a text? Not that it would matter. The woman sighs. She sets her chin on top of her hand, leaning on it. Her legs cross over each other. One swinging back and forth, slowly.
"Are you waiting for someone?" A male voice interrupted her personal silence. She twists her head around to see a young man gazing at her. He sat a stool away. He had curly darkish hair: brown, maybe with a tint of red. It was hard to tell in the lighting. But he did have inviting brown eyes.
"What's it to you?" She questions. He smiles, looking away for a second. The woman took this moment upon herself to get a better look at him. He wore dress pants and a white button up shirt. The top couple buttons undone, showing some skin.
His eyes darted back to her. "Nothing. I was just wondering why someone beautiful, such as yourself, would be all alone in a place like this." His fingers played with the neck of his beer bottle. Maybe it was the small tug of his lips when he smiled or his eyes boring into hers as if trying to read her soul, whichever it was, she knew that she would have to be cautious with this one.
"Your drink," the bartender says, placing it in front of the woman. She nods her head and thanks the man. Her eyes taking in the glass filled up one third by a blue liquid. She took the glass in her hand, swirling the alcohol around a little bit before downing the entire thing. It burned going down her throat. And she knew that the effects would hit her hard in a matter of minutes. But that didn't stop her from ordering two more.
Her fingertips tapped the glass as a buzz started to consume her body. "You know, I could ask you the same thing." She peered over at the man sitting down from her. He glanced in her direction, a bit surprised that she was still talking to him, but concealed it quickly.
He knew from the second she walked in, it was her that he wanted. And he was going to get her. He took a breath, "I just wanted to dilute the stresses of work. They never mention how utterly exhausting living out your dream could be." He look down at his beer. He blows some air into the bottle causing a whistle sound before taking a sip.
"And what would this dream line of work be?" Her head was tilted to the side. The man eyed her small smile appearing gently on her lips.
"Directing," he answers shortly, "short films."
"Ah," she nods her head, "looks like we have a visionary in our presence."
He chuckles lowly, "you said it not me, darling." The man stares into her eyes. "I'm Harry."
"Y/N."
Fifteen minutes and one more drink later the young woman was lightly smacking her face to keep herself awake. Harry laughed at her drunk state. Amusing to watch. "What are you laughing at?" Y/N asks with narrowed eyes.
