THE SAVIOR AT THE BAR

"I damn well know what I want, and if you want to know what that is, it is to forget you and that thing you did to me back in your house. Let's see if anybody will dare turn me down like you just did tonight." I hiss, looking straight into his eyes.

"Why are you so determined to humiliate yourself, huh?"

"I have been humiliated enough by you, Mr. Moore, don’t you think? Just let me be now, because I swear, I will slap you if you dare stop me one more time. LEAVE ME ALONE!" His hands slipped off me.

Good, jerk! I leave him to deal with his dismay, and I walk inside, straight to the bar.

It's a VIP bar, I suppose. It feels so cool as I walk in with some having a slow dance on the stage, still enjoying their drinks. I drop to the first empty table that I come across. It's better here than sulking in my lonely house, listening to my stupid heartbeat for someone who isn’t worth it.

"What can I bring you, miss?" The waiter asks. Okay, how many types of bears do I know? Only Tusker and vodka. Which is best? How do you even determine that, huh? "Miss?"

"A bottle of vodka." I say, and he disappears to get my order after throwing me a glance. A minute later, he returns with my bottle of vodka and a glass. He drops them gently on the table and leaves me to deal with my vodka.

People can't be having a great time out here while I sulk in my house. I open my bottle, filling the annoyingly small glass. Why did he bring such a small glass, huh? Idiot! I hold my glass steady between my fingers and take it to my mouth. In one go, I empty the bitter content in my mouth, forcing it down my throat.

Oh, God! Shit! I want to puke all of a sudden! How can this thing be so bad? Ooh! The way it cuts through my flesh as it settles inside is something I don't want to experience ever again! I think my intestines are destroyed. I try to call the waiter to bring me something like a Del Monte to wash away this freaking bitter taste from my mouth, but they all seem busy. Why didn't that stupid waiter tell me that this stupid vodka is not for me, huh? May the devil screw him! I wipe the tears from my eyes and opt to walk to the counter while massaging my belly. This damn vodka is stirring the contents of my belly in a way that I don't like.

Before I can stand, a gentleman walks to me, sitting across me at my table. "Here. This will help." He pours me a glass of Del Monte, which I grab and gulp down in one go.

This one seems like my savior tonight. "Thank you." I say, handing him his glass. At least that taste is gone, but deep inside, I feel crap conflicting. Me and alcohol better remain enemies. Mental note!

"What is weighing down a beautiful lady like the renowned queen of music like this?" Huh, I forgot I was a celeb. I love the way he is blinking. Alcohol might be having its effects on him. He doesn't look bad, especially not with his sexy eyes. Mh! Who knew I would be this lucky, huh? I didn't even have to look anywhere.

"Just a bad day. A very bad day, I would say. And you?" I state.

"I am in a dilemma that I need to forget, even just for tonight." He says.

Mmh! "Are you saying that you don't always go to these kinds of places?" I ask.

"I prefer relaxing in my house. But now, my house doesn't feel like a house anymore. I just want to get distracted, even for a while." Ooh boy! This one looks more screwed than I am. Did his wife leave him? Or maybe she cheated? It seems like I am not the only one nursing heartbreak. And neither am I the only crazy one tonight. "So, what will it be?" He snaps me back to reality because my mind has traveled somewhere else.

"Huh?"

"A room upstairs, your house, or mine?" He says it gentlemanly, although I can tell from his eyes that he is somehow getting a picture of how the night will be, and it is making him get the chills.

Whoa! Straight to the point. I love that. Why should we beat around the bush anyway? We both know what we want, and before I start doubting myself, I give him my answer.

"A room will do." The smile on his lips after I give him my answer, my oh my!

"I'll go make a reservation. I will be back in a minute." He gives me a wink, and after I smile at him, he walks away to the counter.

I lean on the table because my intestines are threatening to relocate to my mouth. Ooh, dear! How do people survive with alcohol? I started feeling weak. The energy is leaving me so fast. I feel a little bit dizzy. My belly feels disgustingly awful. Damn!

I should go to the bathroom before my nightstand comes back. I can't throw up here. I stand up, but it seems like there is no strength left in me. I can't stop. I support myself on the seat and take three or four small steps. It's like my vision is becoming blurry. Where is this stupid nightstand of mine, huh? Why is he taking forever?

I try to scan for him, but before I can lift my eyes, my body and vision give up. I start my way down, but instead of hitting the floor, I fall into the strong arms of someone. I don't bother to force my eyes to open because I know they can't. To whoever has rescued me, whether my nightstand or a different nightstand, I am so grateful. I let my head rest on my savior's chest, and as he starts his way to where only he knows, sleep takes over me.