Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. Iβm clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and heβs muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals Iβm still Β at the bar. You look to the exit, thereβs still time. But thereβs not, thereβs not, thereβs not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. Β I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I havenβt shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and Iβm missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, itβs like that only instead of boots itβs my muscles and instead of walking itβs punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your familyβ¦ Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insultedΒ theΒ Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playingβ¦ no playing you fuck. No playingβ¦ it was real.. the realest thing Iβve ever know.. feltβ¦ Love. I loved themβ¦ Blaizβ¦. Chas-Chasβ¦ Funkβ¦ I loved all three of emβ¦ but theyβ¦*My face is wet with tears and Iβm blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left meβ¦ leftβ¦ *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?!Β *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging.Β βPft, you brought this upon yourself dude.β He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left meβ¦ * I fall to the floor and sob.*
Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
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