I'm No Hero - Vigilante BNHA

~ C h a p t e r 72 ~

~ Any Way The Wind Blows ~
> 2129 words <
>unedited<

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

"HELL YEAH I FUCKIN' LOVE THIS SONG!"

An intense amount of bitter alcohol seemed to swirl around the room, the stench staining the fruity perfume scent that was spritzed all over the room just hours earlier. It was muggy and hot, but that didn't stop the few dozen people from cheering and jumping up and down in excitement.

Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality...

Suddenly, someone in the mist of the crowd sauntered their way to an empty booth. Three classes of different drinks were on the table, and the man simply picked up the cool beer before he climbed up the booths table, clumsily gaining his bearings.

The man in his daze didn't even realize he accidentally kicked over the two other glass beverages, but the sound of glass shattering on the wooden floor caused most of the room to turn and place their attention on the man.

Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see...!

...what was he doing...?

Without much said, the man raised his beer high up into the air, the metallic can reflecting the bright lights of the bar. Suddenly, he opened his mouth, and messily sang along:

I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy

His voice was out of tune, but this didn't stop the wide smiles appearing on all the others' faces. And of course, they all joined in.

People found themselves standing on chairs and tables, all of them chanting along with the song. Some even danced around while handing more drinks out which people happily took and chugged, not caring if they would feel horrible tomorrow morning.

Because it wasn't tomorrow morning. Right now, it was now. They had this moment, who knew if they would ever have another one like this?

Because I'm easy come, easy go, little high, little low
Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me...!

The bar was buzzing with activity, leaving the air humid even with the help of an air conditioner blowing cool, clean air inside the building. People stood up on booths, tables, and chairs, standing on wobbly and unstable legs. They playfully shoved and pushed each other, nearly falling off tables as they all sang along to the music that played on a busted, make shift speaker in the corner of the bar.

The speaker was an older model-so old that it was no longer sold in stores-fried, overused wires sticking out from loose pieces of the rusted metal. But that didn't stop people from fixing it up, now loose tape held it together. Somehow the important wires still worked, and no one would complain as it still did its job.

Well, that's a lie. The things buttons don't even work anymore-the only reason it's still playing is because every time they use it, the people hit it so hard it starts to turn on.

Mama, just killed a man
Put a gun against his head
Pulled my trigger, now he's dead...!

At these lyrics, some people in the crowd laughed and giggled. Slowly, some people started to group off to talk about their own gossip. But for the most part, everyone was on the dance floor, eating and drinking-not to mention dancing and singing.