“Another?” the bartender asks. She’s a young girl. Early twenties, if I had to guess. Around Cassius’s age, I suppose.
“Please.”
She refills my glass with whatever whiskey she put in it in the first place. I may have told her which I wanted, but I’ll be damned if I remember. It tastes like acid anyway. She could give me piss and I’d drink it. It’s the least I deserve for being so weak.
How did I get by for so long pretending I wasn’t? Pretending I had my shit together and things were good? It was all a lie. Sure, I was getting by, but I wasn’t happy. At the time, I was fine with that because I didn’t know what being happy felt like. Now that I do? Well, I’m pretty sure the rest of my life is going to be miserable. But again… I deserve it.
“You okay?”
The young bartender is frowning at me.
“No,” I say simply, grabbing my drinking and swallowing half.
“Yeah, I assumed that. You’re not my typical type of customer.”
I look around the bar and see rugged guys in flannels playing pool and drinking beer.
“Right,” I say, finishing the drink. “First bar I found.”
“And here I thought we were a hidden gem.”
I huff a laugh as she fills my glass again.
“Anything you want to talk about?” she asks, leaning her hip against the counter.
Staring down at my drink, I grab the glass but don’t take a sip.
“Not much to say.” I take a mouthful, hissing as it goes down. She nods, still watching me. “I fucked up, and it really sucks.” I down the rest of the alcohol. She grabs the bottle and fills it again.
“We’ve all been there. I’m sure it’ll fix itself. Can’t be bad forever.”
She gives me a sad smile, then moves down the end of the bar to take an order from one of the guys who was playing pool. He flirts with her, and she flirts back.
What the hell am I doing here?
My phone is burning a hole in my pocket, wanting to be pulled out. It’s been off since that conversation with Oliver. What else was I supposed to do?
It would be so easy to turn on. To text him. To apologize. It hurts because I know he would take me back. I know he would jump if I told him to, and that’s fucked up. Not that he would do it, but that I hold that power over him and am hurting him. Never, not once, did I ever consider using it against him. I wouldn’t do that. I could never hurt him intentionally. I wouldnever abuse him or the trust he gives me. But it hurts knowing I could do anything, and he’d come back. It makes me feel like a piece of shit, if I’m being honest. The way he was pleading today, the tears in his eyes…
And it’s not because he’s weak. Cassius is so much stronger than I ever could be. It’s his strength that allows him to show his vulnerabilities. Look at me? The weak people are the ones who hide, unable to be their true selves. It’s the strong ones who do what needs to be done.
The more drinks I have, the worse I feel for myself and the less clarity I have. I didn’t come here to find an answer to my problems, I came here to forget.
It’s not working. All I can think about are the memories with Cass and how badly I fucked up. How badly I want to go to his apartment and fall to my knees and apologize for what I did. Fuck the company. Fuck Oliver. Fuck all of it. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.
Becausewhydoes it matter?
I’m holding onto a family legacy… of a family I hated. Why is this so important?
Sure, the money is good. I have nice things and I don’t worry about anything, but Cass was right the other day… I could lose my company and still get by for the rest of my life.
It all leads back to one thing, and one thing only.
I am a weak man.
I get into my car. The rain is coming down pretty hard. I certainly shouldn’t be driving, I’ve had way too many drinks, but I have to get to Cassius’s house. I have to make him forgive me. I have to make him take me back. I can’t go on without him. This hurts too much. I’ve never felt pain like this before.
Fuck the company. Fuck my image. Fuck it all.