Methis' POV
The rest of the weekend was basically spent with my Dad doting me, not letting me participate even a little bit in chores of the house which he insisted was "manual labor to his princess." A lot of times it felt really weird, being treated like a baby that is, as though I couldn't take care of myself on my own. Other times it brought back heavy waves of nostalgia. About my childhood. My father when I got sick as a kid hardly ever left my bedside whenever I had as much as the flu.
When he came back from a drive that evening and saw me still lying on the bed, he tutted loudly.
"That's it Methis, you are going out."
I shot up from the sheets, "What?"
"A bar downtown, here, you can have my credit card and my car, go there mix, have some fun okay? You can't stay huddled up all day.
"But Dad... "
"Just go, Methis," he said, refusing to hear any protests, "I promise, you will feel better okay?"
Seeing he was determined to get me out of the house, I immediately worked out he had no choice, "Okay, Dad, I will. "
What's the worst that could happen?
* * *
The neon sign outside the dimly lit bar flickered, casting a hazy glow on the street. I clutched the strap of my handbag tightly as I hesitated before the entrance, the lingering scent of cigarette smoke and spilled alcohol wafting towards me. After a long day locked up in my room, commiserating the absolute misery my life was in, the thought of a quiet drink and a distraction from my troubles seemed appealing.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit bar. A low hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses filled the air, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter. I found an empty stool at the counter and settled in, feeling a sense of relief wash over me as I blended into the background.
The bar was crowded, which was normal I guess. It was a Friday night, people were looking for ways to blow of steam.
A moment later, a friendly face appeared behind the bar, a man with a warm smile and twinkling eyes that seemed to hold a hint of mischief. "What'll it be?" he asked, his voice carrying a pleasant rasp.
"Just a glass of white wine, please," I replied, my voice slightly hesitant.
"Nothing else?"
I hesitated for a moment, "Make it on the rocks."
He smiled, clicking his tongue and winking jovially, "Gotcha."
As I waited for my drink, I observed the other patrons scattered around the bar, engaged in their own private conversations. A group of friends laughed raucously, their voices rising above the din, while a lone man sat hunched over his drink, his face obscured by the shadows.
My thoughts drifted back to my day, the frustrations and disappointments piling up like a stack of unsorted bills. I had hoped that a drink would help me forget, but the weight of my worries seemed to follow me into the bar, casting a dampener on my mood.
I hadn't heard from either Jamal or Xander. And Sophia really seemed banged up pretty bad so I had tried to call her multiple times but it always went to voicemail.
It was clear she was still mad at how everything turned out, and who could blame her? I felt just as guilty as everybody else. She didn't deserve all that happened to her.
As my wine arrived, I took a sip, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat and sending a shiver down my spine. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment of respite, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly.
Suddenly, a voice broke through my reverie. "Mind if I join you?" it asked, polite but with a hint of playful curiosity.
I opened my eyes to find a man standing beside me, his face framed by a tousled mop of dark hair. His eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, and his smile was as warm as the glow from the neon sign outside.
"Of course," I replied, a touch of surprise in my voice. I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn't noticed him approach.
He pulled up a stool next to me and introduced himself as Chris. His voice was smooth and engaging, and he had an easygoing charm that quickly put me at ease. We started talking, and I found myself opening up to him, sharing my thoughts and frustrations about the day.
Chris listened attentively, nodding in understanding and offering words of encouragement. His presence was like a soothing balm, easing the tension that had been building within me. I found myself laughing at his witty remarks and feeling a sense of connection that I hadn't experienced in a long time.
As the evening progressed, my initial reluctance melted away, replaced by a sense of comfort and enjoyment. Chris's company was like a breath of fresh air, dispelling the gloom that had been clouding my thoughts.
When it was time to leave, I felt a pang of regret. I had found myself enjoying Chris's company more than I had expected, and I didn't want the evening to end.