hades

Dorian suppressed a sigh, guess this was going to be a conversation and looked like he wasn’t going to be getting that cup back anytime soon. At least it was a topic he could relate to all to well. “I hear you man. I’ll never understand people who waste time on getting attached.” He took a moment to look at the profile on the phone. Great ass was right, Dorian wouldn’t have hesitated to swipe right. That is if he had been someone who bothered with dating apps. “Truly a shame.” He couldn’t help but chuckle when the man said Meet the folks. “You think the stereotype will hold up and you can get around the taking it slow by going for men over females but life is never so kind it seems.” Dorian often thought he was aromantic. Dating  had never done it for him though then again he often just felt empty so maybe it wasn’t about romance at all. “Correction, gotta feel bad for anyone wasting energy getting attached in this day and age”

“You’d think, huh?” Sending off a quick text, he found himself up and out of his stool, swaying ever so slightly. He’d drank so much previously. The temptation of unlimited alcohol provided by his date. He couldn’t help but cringe. The dude deserved to be locked up for all the shit he was drunkenly slurring into his ear that night. He’d elected to call an Uber for the poor guy and find another bar to sleep on. Going home was also a blatant waste of time. Besides, he needed the distraction. Taking his wallet out, he took out a few of his larger bills, passing it over without much thought. “Well--- thanks for a somewhat good rest of my night. Alcohol was decent. You humouring my doomed loveless life wasn’t too bad. Hope I didn’t make too much of a mess of your bar. Oh, and keep the change. For putting up with me.”

Clearly the man was asking rhetorical questions to which Dorian would be happy to ignore under normal circumstances but given the time, whatever it took for the stranger to decide it was time to leave. “I’ll never understand it either man. Why people waste their time on one person is beyond me.” He walked over to lean on the bar opposite the man, “variety is the spice of life in my opinion.” Hoping to keep the stranger in an agreeable mood he made a motion towards the scotch glass, “Mind if I clean that up for you?”

“I was married twice,” he began, temptation to slam the cup down sweeping the back of his mind. “First was with my dad’s colleague’s son--- then to my best friend of seven and a half years,” he furthered explained, mirroring the man’s lean. “When both of your husbands die,” he emphasized, pausing briefly before throwing the rest of the liquid to the back of his throat, holding it out for the other man to take. “---and you can’t hold down a relationship to save your life--- I think that’s the universe tellin’ ya something’s up.” A low chuckle, as if to dismiss any heaviness in the air. “Not getting attached, keeping things casual and moving forward--- that’s the dream life.” Pulling out his phone, he flipped it around to showcase a Tinder profile before he scoffed. “Waste of skin, if you ask me. Nice guy, great ass; but he wanted to take things slow. Get to know each other. Go on a couple more dates,” he continued, leaning on his palm. “Meet his folks.” A pause as an internal gag nearly made its way out. “Slow my ass.” A beat. “Gotta feel bad for anyone who gets attached to a walking omen.”

Another day, another shift, another paycheck that was a pathetic fraction of the amount of money his employer had made thanks to Dorian’s hard work. Had he made a mistake leaving his family behind and trading the power and money for this escape from obligation? Now wasn’t the time to consider such thoughts though. Now he had to focus on the costumer sitting at the end of the bar with no visible signs of being ready to leave.

“Excuse me,” Dorian called to the stranger as he finished wiping down the bar for closing. “Last call was an hour ago, I’ve got places to be so it’s time you moved along too.” He hoped this customer wouldn’t give him any trouble, he wasn’t in the mood to throw someone out forcefully.

“The romantic trope is kinda tired, isn’t it?” He noted with a nearly labored sigh as he twirled his scotch glass by the brim, clearly ignoring the other as he sank into drunk thoughts. “I mean--- what’s so wrong with sleeping with someone and losing their number? This generation is so obsessed with finding their ‘one true love’ or some bullshit they don’t appreciate a good hookup when it presents itself,” Roman rolled his eyes. “Like--- catch a hint, amirite?”