Starting Over

Violet Spiraling

Dominic's Bar sat on top of a restaurant and had a long, narrow set of metal stairs outside, leading down to a crowd of wannabe gangsters who stood against the wall, smoking cigarettes and talking shit. My nose itched with excitement as I walked up to them, hands in my pockets, a little high from Molly's weed and sweaty from the speedy walk.

"Violet Esperanza," one of the thugs said with a Spanish accent. We locked eyes and I realized it was my no-good ex-boyfriend, Andy. Just who I'd expected.

"Andres Baez." The name made me want to hurl. "We haven't seen each other since I returned that kilo I stole from you."

The men in his group laughed. No doubt they would berate him about it later. "What brings you back to our side of the tracks? You musta dumped that white boy cuz I know he wouldn't give your ass permission to hang out in the hood."

I rolled my eyes. "Fuck off. As if I'd let that prick boss me around like that."

"Oh, I see how it is. He broke up with you." My eyes narrowed, and he laughed in my face, so much that I grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him up against the wall.

"You shut your fuckin' mouth, bro, or I'll knock your teeth out."

He choked on laughter, only shutting up when I raised a fist, ready to punch him. "Okay, okay, chill woman!" His hands lifted to shield his head and I smirked, glad he still feared me.

"I need you to give me two grams on credit," I said in a low voice.

"What makes you think I'd do that?"

"Cuz you owe me. And I'll pay you tomorrow."

"Fine, but give me some space," Andy responded, shoving me. I released my grip so he could retrieve the little baggies of white powder from his pocket. Then, licking my lips, I reached forward, but Andy snatched the drugs away, hiding them behind his back. "You've burned me before, Esperanza."

"That was then. Things are different now."

He seemed doubtful but gave in, tucking the ziplocks in my palm. I plucked the cigarette from between his fingers and took a puff off it, smiled and walked away.

"You're welcome!" he called after me, and I responded with my middle finger.

Up the stairs and through the heavy glass door, I was hit with a greasy, liquor-filled stench. The decor hadn't been updated since I first started going there as an under-aged delinquent. But the crowd seemed much more mixed nowadays, patrons ranging from fake ID age to mid-40s.

I went to the bar and ordered a mojito, looking around for a recognizable face. With the glass in my hand, I drifted towards the back of the room where an illegal poker game was going on. There's where my people were at.

"VIOLET!!" It was my BFF of all time, Tiffany. She had been sitting on her boyfriend's lap as he gambled, but upon my arrival ran up and tackled me in a hug, noticeably drunk. "You haven't come out in forever! We missed you!"

As I gazed around the table, I doubted anyone besides Tiffany had felt bad about my absence. "Deal me in," I demanded, plopping down with my drink and throwing in a few dollars.

I played poker for hours, working on emptying one of the baggies while I kicked everyone's ass at Texas Hold 'em. Drunk Tiffany acted as waitress, rambling about the old days between bringing everyone booze.

"And that time you saved your red-haired friend... what's her name? Molly!" Her head tossed back in laughter, enjoying the nostalgia. She turned to her boyfriend. "That's the kinda friend this bitch is. Molly came to pick us up from a dope party on Long Island after we were stranded by Andy's punk ass. She was high as fuck and crashed some BMW. Molly was freakin' out but Violet just straight up took the blame, no questions asked, got hauled off to the slammer. Your lawyer buddy saved you from that, right? Gabe?"