Not everything can be controled.
A fancy toss of the mixer behind his back and he had the ladies eating out of the palm of his skillful hands.
'Show off.' He thinks to himself, shaking his head with a smile on his lips. He began to make his own drink--well, more like his customers drink-- and grabbed a tall glass from under the counter. H grabbed for the gin, some limon juice and sugar syrup, then tossed in a few cold rocks. His movements were flowly and skilled as he grabbed for the liquor and mixes, obviously honed from working at this bar for so long. He vigiourlesly shook the glass as he smiled at the lady across from him, adorned in clubbing wear, made to attract attention. She grinned back at him, leaning over the counter a bit more, ever so slightly. The bartender leaned back, ever so slightly. He set the glass down and reached for an orange garnish, placing it artisticaly and pushing the drink towards her.
"Your Tom Collins, ma'am."
"Merci..." She breathed back to him, her french accent alluring yet unaffective. She gave a coy smirk before turning her back, gin in hand, and walked off to stalk for more willing play.
'She caught on quick,' he bemused, 'I usually have to say something more.'
Without thought, the bartender pulled out a damp rag and began to scrub down his area. He looked aroud the dark club, watching people dance and rock to the beat of the music. A "crazy" or two swinging about wildly, drinks somehow still in hand. In the darker corners, people were well sober; coping to instead to have interesting conversations, to them. Despite the numerous people he could not name himself, it was a slow night in comparrison to others.
A look to his right, and he could see his other colleague talking up the group of young women he was serving. Flirting all the while and it seemed, from how the girls scrambled around him, they were enjoying what he had to say. A look to his left, and he could see the other barkeeptress, flirting no doubt with her two clients while she mixed their drinks. The one man, taller and darker skinned was avidly entertained with his entertainer. He wittly commented back and was laughing heartly. His friend, on the other hand, wasn't so enthused. He barely cracked a smile at whatever she had to say, and when she finally finished his drink, he took it with all the suave he could muster, thanked her blandly, and walked right off, leaving behind his happier drinking pal.
The tall man watched his friend's retreating back, his face faulted with a bit of either anger or pity. It was too dark to tell clearly. The barkeeptress watched him walk off as well. But he suddenly snached up his drink and began talking up the lady again, his friend's sudden departure was going to have no affect on his night out.
The now lonely friend took a seat not too far from the barkeeper, still rubbing down the counters out of habit. He sipped at his drink with little interest, staring at the wall behind the counter--more like, past the wall. the barkeeper watched the man for a while. Looking him over before deciding on what to say. He didn't want the man to end up reporting his fellow worker just on her extroverted ways.
He had black, short hair. His skin a very dark tan. The way he hunched over the marble countertop suggested his was on the taller side--though not as tall as his friend, apearently. He wore finer clothing; coat, pants and shirts very stylish yet conservative. He must work at a higher paying job. The barkeeper took a few, short steps towards said man, hoping to perken up his mood so he at least left without that bitter feeling in his throat.
"Forgive my friend," he cautiously began, gaining the man's attention enough to make him turn his head. His greyish eyes showed him to be tired more than annoyed. "But she is friendly by nature. It's her job." He offered an unsure smile, the edges of his lips curling up. The man began to offer his own smile in return, turning his body towards the man who had struck up a conversation with him.
"You people here are persistant in conversing with others." His smile was a bit sarcastic, but his tone betrayed the look for one of cynical observation. The barkeeper stiffened a bit on how to reply nicely. "And your name would be?" He pointed to the small nametag dangling from his lapel, his own devilish smirk apearing. The dark-skinned man placed his forehead in his hand and shook his head in shame from being oblivious to the obvious. His smile widened in a type of genunie happiness, oddly. "Of course. My apologies, Airian."
"No worries." Airian moved closer to the man and closer to one of the few bright lights placed in the building. Still smiling, though out of understanding. "Care to give your name?"
The man lifted his head and looked his new conversationalist over. Lighter brown hair, paler skin, darker brown eyes, and an average height. Nothing spetacular, if you excluded that strange tail of hair runing down th length of his back. "It's Rao."
"I don't get a first name?"
"You're not that close to me." He grinned.
"Ouch." Airian lamely acted hurt and shrugged. Some people were like that, he supposed. Best to respect that.
"So, are you going to ask how my night has been? What I have planned? Ty to 'free me from what troubles me'? I'm interested in how many conversation starters you people have."
Despite supposed to be kind to his customers, the superior tone this man took really rubbed Airian the wrong way. The curtness in his tone found it's way in. "It's our job to talk with customers. Leave the bar if you are annoyed with it, sir." He mentally kicked himself. So much for trying to help the guy out. And better wave bye-bye to the tip while he's at it.
Suprisingly, Mr. Rao laughed. Airian coudn't help but tilt his head in confusion for a moment before deciding not to bother why the man found this amusing. The man took a second sip from his drink since he recieved it and looked back up to the younger man.
"A bit snippy, aren't we?"
"As long as it entertains you." Airian began to wipe down the couter again, a tad embrassed that the man was able to elict such a reaction out of him, and on purpose, he bet.
"You're a fun person, Airian. I can tell." His grey eyes showed his interest in talking with this new man.
"So am I able to lean your first name now?"
"It's Sariyah!" A very estatic man suddnly boomed out, his low voice sounding loud to the youngest's ears. It was the man from just a few feet down, who was having such a great time with the lady barkeeper not too long ago. He must have decided to return back to his friend, so he wouldn't be alone the whole night. How thoughtful.
The man leaned over onto Sariyah, whose smile had almost completely vanished, if it wasn't for his obvious enjoyment from seeing his friend a bit drunk and stumbling. He tried to push the bigger and older man off and pushed him to lay over onto the counter. He snickered at the man and his goofy grin, despite him giving out his secret name.
"Any time, 'Riyah." Portez smiled up, his chocolate eyes gleaming happily.
"Your wife is going to let loose on you." The tanned man warned, sipping more from his drink. Mr. Portez just waved a hand at him, dismissing the threat all together.
"I'll be fine." He could talk fairly well for one who was becoming drunk.
"Are you going to be all right, sir?" Out of his need to ask, Airian questioned if he wanted to be escorted home soon.
"I'll be taking him back. Don't worry about it." Sariyah patted his friend on the back in response, still keeping a careful watch on the bigger man so he didn't fall out of his chair so suddenly. "So I'm afraid this will be good bye for us, Airian." The sober man stood up and began to yank his inehibrated friend to his feet as well. "Thanks for the little chat."
"It's my job. sir." Airian couldn't help but smirk to his response and was happy that Sariyah returned the favor as well.
"You're awefully sassy for a man." He hauled one of Portez's arms around his shoulders and did his best to support his friend from tripping over his own two feet.
"What a good note to end this on." The younger man actually managed to keep his baring at this tease, and remarked as playfully and respectfully as he could. He was still, of course, working after all, and it was still a worker-customer relationship.
Sariyah stopped for a bit, and Portez nudged him in resopne. Mumbling something about getting home before a worse beating, or something to that effect. Fishing around in his pockets, the man managed to find a few dollar bills and set them on the shiney and smooth counter. "Again, thanks." And with that, he began to half drag his friend towards the exit of the bar. Portez suddenly began to loudly thank the man carrying him, praising him for being "such a good friend" and "someone he could depend on" and "much more better than those stuffy geese back at the 'hospitible'."
'What goofs.' The barkeeper thought to himself, scooping up his tip and lightly fingering through it. He was a bit suprised at the amount left, but there were no pretty twenties to really shock him. He stuffed the light cash ino his back pocket and started his work again. Finding ways to dwindle away the time till he had to clock out and peacefully rest in his own bed.
"Don't make me repeat myself."
"It's three in the morning! Can't you kick me out when there's light out?"
"I'm afraid not."
"One more word out of you and I'll call the authorities." Stern and firm. Unmoving, just like his face. Airian took in a deep breath, started down his landlord as long as he could, and stomped off into his apartment. The middleaged man brought his leathery fingers to his forehead and began to rub away the migrane that was begining to come. May the saints give him patcience.
Meanwhile, loud thumping noises could he heard behind the wodden door. Things were being roughly pushed aside, clothes being tossed out of dressers and the clang of hangers hitting the floor. Just moments later, the disgruntled young man reopened the door with the force to whoosh the wind into the flat. He started down at his landlord again with angry brown eyes before stepping out into the hall, bag of clothes being dragged in one hand and a case with his laptop in it in the other, no doubt. He hadn't even changed from his work uniform; black slacks, white shirt and black vest. He held out his fisted hand, and the older man opened his own underneath the smoother, plaer hand. Airian dropped the keys and readjusted his shoulder strap with the laptop. With his best effort, he nodded his head, lips pressed into a then line and walked passed his money collector.
"I wouldn't have to kick you out..." the stout man called back. The younger man heaved a sigh, and turned around out of morbid curiousity, observing the man looking back at him. "If you have the money now." Another sigh, and he shook his head in a somber manner. His anger seemed lost now, if not dimmed.
"No, Mr. Carahoun. I don't." The balding man nodded his head.
"Just business." It was Airian's turn to nod.
"Yeah. Just business." And with that, the young man turned around one last time and walked away, giving a slight wave behind his back in a farewell.
In retrospect of it all, it was his fault he was kicked out of the building.
But he was still mad that he was now homeless.
But then again, if he didn't waste his money on all of those nice things, he would have been able to keep his place.
But he wasn't that far behind on rent to begin with, so it was justly unfair.
But h'd been slacking on rent for a while now.
But he still wasn't that far in debt to Mr. Carahoun.
'Aw, fuck it. I'm going around in circles.' Airian dropped his pack of clothes on the seat of his motorcycle. He then shoved it over to the edge and began fastening belts across it to keep it secure. He then threw one leg over the bulky vehicle and rested on the seat, the messanger bag still slung over her shoulder. He moved the strap over his head so it would be secure while he was driving, revved up the engine before finally remembering to put on his helmet before speeding off.
It was a whirl of colors, or rather, very dull colors, for it was night and the buildings and the sights were not as livid as they once would have been in the day. Ornate buildings carved carefully from stone, details so fine it would have driven the artist mad about perfecting every spiral. The lights were still as dramatic as ever though, now that the night had waltzed it way across the city.
They were bright and clear lights. Shining definantly and strongly in the dark. Guiding anyone who found themselves lost in the dark, be it their own mind or in this world, or even in the next.
Where to go, where to go.
He could only run down these streets for so long.Who could he bother so late in the night to let him in? He could feel the wind whip at him like it always had. Feel the pull of his hair against it, trying to catch up with the rest of him.
And the he felt it.
The single splatter of a small drop of water on his skin.
'You have to be kidding me...'
And then another soon answered his unspoken question.
And in return, he got another drop of water for his answer. And within seconds, they had began to pelt his body numerously, though softly.
But when there is rain, there is downpour. At least in this city.
In his annoyed state, he revved his powerful engine again and sped even quicker down the uncrowded streets of the grand city.
Airian was lucky enough to find shelter quick enough before the heavy rain began to fall down to Earth. He had quite comfortably found a large stone gazebo to house him, his bike, and his belongings from the uncountable raindrops. He had to ride through the park to get here, but the walkways were more than big enough to let him breeze his way through here. The spot it had been built was quite a nice place. Large clearing, tall rees, flowers, a pond and it's connecting stream, and of course, a bridge and a pathway winding all the way through the grand park.
Despite his quick find, he still sported the light rain drop patterns all over his clothes, taking note that they also temporarly stained his bags and motorbike. He rested himself against one of the large stone pillars, supporting the large roof over him, and watched as the rain continued to fall down to it's messy death. he began to feel the chills one got when standing so close and exposed to the rain. Feeling the icy wind that made this evening so much more bitter. He kept his seat on top of his bike, and dreaded the thought of the night continuing on like this. He rested his head and watched the scene unfold before him.
Airian didn't know much about the weather, but if the rain wasn't leting up now, then it probably wasn't going to now. The thought irked him to no end. Riding thorgh the rain wasn't his favorite thing when he was in a bad mood. He waited it out for a few more minutes, arguing with himself on what to do. To stay or to ride, to stay or to ride. These unappealing choices drive him mad.
Finally going with his gut, he firmly readjusted himself on his bike, making sure everything was secure in his irated state, and drive off again. The rain already puddling the ground splashing up in waves after his wheels. As soon as he left the safety of the gazebo, he hated his decision.
Too late now, he supposed. He began to ride forward anyway.
With all that time to think, he managed to decide on who to bother for the night. Unlike an idiot, he aimed his path straight to the man's house.
Knock, knock, knock.
Airian heard a loud yell of suprise and soon a crash and felt the vibrations on the floor. He winced at the memory the last time he was scared out of bed. He never hated the floor so much till then. Either the floor or his friends, the feeling was mutual for a while.
"Jesus Christ..." He heard a rumble from the other side of the door.
"Guess again." Airian smirked at his own lame joke.
"God fucking damnit..." He heard the shuffling of feet getting more distinct as they made their way closer to the door. A few clicks of the locks on the other side and opened up his friend.
Half clothed, as usual, from the waist down in long, loose pajama bottoms. Brown chest bare to the cold. The young man rubbed his big dark eyes with both of his hands. "Why are you here so late..." the man half yawned. He began to scratch at his fluffy head of hair, daring to open an eye to the outside world. He survayed his friend closely.
"I got kicked out." Airian tryed to make his way into the apartment, but was stopped with an unusually strong push from a sleepy person.
"Woah woah woah." The taller man leaned up against his doorframe in tired interest. Folding his arms across his chest in a demanding manner. "Have you looked at yourself? You're soaking wet! Like hell I'm gonna let you waltz in with your wet shoes and soak everything I own."
"I feel the love." Airian snaped back. But he was quite a pitiful site to look at. From top to bottom he was a complete mess.
His clothes clinged heavily on his body, emphasising his thinner frame of a body. It made him look like he had just been drowned and came back to life to take revenge. His hair wasn't so bad; being stuffed in a helmet helped keep it from harm, but it was still matted to his head in an unruly brown mop. The tail of his hair molding into his back.
"How did you get kicked out anyhow?"
"Do we have to do this now?" His whine didn't affect the man.
"What did you do?"
"I didn't... mrfphhumprg..."
"What was that?" He leaned in, a crooked smile on his lips, enjoying the torture his was bestowing on his friend.
"I didn't pay rent. Now will you let me in?" Airian would have no doubt loved to cut out some organ, any organ, from the man's body if he could and get away with it. But he managed to keep his violent urges to himself. Instead, he settled with glaring in hate at him.
"Sorry. You're own damn fault you can't properly manage your money." With a quick turn, the young man reentered his apartment and rapidly shut the door in Airian's face, not giving the wet boy any chance to fight back.
Airian stared at the door with the most hate he could send with his eyes and threw himself on the door. He hit it as hard as he could over and over again, yellig out loudly and baring his teeth in fustraition.
"What?! I help you get a job and this is the thanks I get?! GOD DAMNIT!" He let out a strangled half growl, half scream. "Open the door, Tel!! I'm in no mood for sick games!! Open it!"
A quick click and swing of the door and Airian soon found himself falling to the floor. Half a second later, he was groaning on the ground. His forearms hurt.