Sean's Bar

Part 1/2

I always hated this ugly fucking spot. People constantly tell me i'm lucky, my spots on my hand. Fuck that, this ugly thing stares back at me every time I wanna draw or write anything down. "Maybe you'll brush up against your soulmate and turn and lock eyes" is something i hear constantly, but who cares. I wish he'd just fucking show up already.

I get off the bus and go to a painfully long day at work. One where every time i hand anyone anything, they remind me that my spot is getting darker and redder around the edges. "He's coming soon!" they say. I'm always tempted to say "or she" despite being straight, but i don't, i just let them 'aww'. When work finally ends i go back to the bus station, prepared for a long ride home. When my train pulls up though, something stops me.

Something tells me to wait for the next one.

Now, let me explain, I'm not some wishy washy, spirited, crazy person. I'm not crazy religious either, so this isn't something that happens to me a lot. But today, i don't think i could've gotten on that bus if i tried. It felt completely wrong, even the thought of taking that bus. As much as i don't believe in it, this was something i couldn't ignore.

Around two minutes later, the next bus shows up. Number 47. Headed to Castle St. Sean's Bar is near there. I get on.

I send my friend Scarlett a text and tell her to meet me at the bar. This bus ride is gonna be longer than my typical one, so i put my earbuds in and pull my book out. At the moment i'm reading a book called Good Omens. I've just started it, which means i can't properly judge it, but i think it's good so far.

Three quarters of the way through the ride I put away my book and focus on the music blaring through my earbuds. I'm once again reminded of the now even darker spot across my hand. My knuckles to the first joint up are almost all black, with the exception of three quarters to half my pinky. It's become worryingly red around the edges and it makes me wonder what action could cause this amount of collision. I tell myself not to think about it and concentrate on the bass bouncing through my head.

Music could get me through anything. There's just something about a really good song that resonates inside me. If i really love something i can feel it through my entire body and talk about it forever. I'm one of those assholes who can remember the words to a song after listening to it only a few times. I also have a tendency to sing when i forgot other people cant hear my music. I'd also like to add that I can't sing.

I'm distracted from my thoughts when i realise were almost at the last stop, which is on Castle St, a couple minutes walk from Sean's. I look down at my phone to realise i missed three texts from Scar.
'Okay'
'Why?'
'Kat?'
I send her a quick text reply telling her to just come and that she better be on her way because I'm already here.

I walk in and order whiskey on the rocks and its not five minutes later when Scar shows up. I call her over and she's orders a beer and some fancy cocktail, for after her beer. God, i don't know how she drinks those.

"Mmmh" she hums whilst swallowing a sip of beer. She gestures to my hand, which is resting on the bartop. "It's getting really dark and red around the edges."

"Ugh, thanks for the reminder."
"What? You're not excited?" No, Scar, I'm not. I glance over at the dark spot on the side of her lip.

"Nervous. Curious. So goddamn tired." I look back down at my spot and wonder how it'll happen. God it's getting redder by the minute.

"What's your theory?" she says and by her tone i can already tell she has one for me.

"I dunno, what could cause this?" i lift my hand up and spread my fingers out so she can see all of my spot.

"I think he sits down next to you," she moves up and down and readjust to demonstrate him sitting i guess. "and places his hand on top of yours." she does so.

I'm tense for a second before she lifts up her hand, until i remember her spot's on her lip. I look up to smile and laugh at her.

"Well, what about yours?" I'm so prepared to give her my theory.

"A kiss? I don't know. What you think?"

"You, being the sloppy asshole you are, have something on your lip. He sits down," I mock her sitting movements and  lift up my finger and mimic the move i'm about to explain.

"Wipes the food off your lip. Bam, colours." I'm confident in my answer, but i can't wait to hear what she thinks.

"Not bad Kat. I'll be honest, no one's ever suggested that. Its cute." To anyone else shed sound like an asshole right now but, i know shes being sincere.

We talk for a few hours and order a bunch more drinks. We finally decide to head home and she tells me shes gonna stay at her friend Logan's. He lives about a five minute walk in the opposite direction of me so i hug her goodbye and let her go alone. I begin my slow walk to the bus stop with Gibberish by MAX in hopes it'll keep me going. Drinks was a bad idea, i'm so tired. Not too tired though, because when i see i fight down the street i pick up the pace towards it.

The closer i get the more familiar one of the people in the fight gets. It isn't until i'm about four meters away that i realise it's Sam, someone I'm fairly close with but one of Scar's closest friends. Something's not right though because Sam ended up being the one taking most the punches, while a tall brunette girl yells behind the, man beating him.

I have no idea why i figured yelling and picking up the pace towards the fight was a good idea, but i did it. I've gotta do something right? This is someone Scar's close to. I start to rip the probably six-foot man off Sam when she finally straightens up and turns to me. Without thinking, I lift up my right hand and slam it into his face. Fuck that hurt. He barely has to straighten up from my blow when I look back down at my hand. Then up to his face. They're both bursting with colour. Of course they are.

Hey anyone reading this (probably nobody lol) this part is kinda long and idk I haven't edited this cause I don't wanna read it again so I'm down to hear some feedback :)