Page 57 of Hello, Listener
I pick up the bat and with every memory of her and I swing.
The bat smacks into the half-empty bottle of bourbon that sits on the kitchen table, with the thought of her pale, smooth skin that felt like silk underneath my fingertips. The glass cracks under my feet, and I don't flinch when the sharp edges cut into my skin through my gray socks.The way my heart breaks is worse than the shattered fragments digging into my flesh.My feet leave bloody footprints when I make my way to another part of the kitchen.
“Fuck, Thalia. You're more beautiful than I had imagined.”Seating tears continue to fall down my chin onto the kitchen tile.
The once happy memory of her exposed breasts is replaced by the loud sound of wood crashing into each other. The top row of newly remodeled cabinets is shattered. Several pieces of wood fragments are collected in the same scattered piles as the shards of glass.
I take a few steps to the right and look at the top row of cabinets that have been untouched.
“I want you, Thalia. I’ve never wanted anything so bad.”Another memory I wish would dissolve turns the few remaining pristine cabinets into a broken mess of wood and crystal.
With every painful memory of every time she screamed my name and begged me to make her come, I splinter any piece of wood and break all of the glass or ceramic that remains.
Standing in the middle of my spacious kitchen, now filled with demolished remnants of what was a beautiful picture of homedesign, I find myself just like the broken glass at my feet. I drop the bat, and I fall to my knees with my head in my hands. More pieces of glass digging into my kneecaps. No amount of pain will ever match the mental torture that Thalia has caused.
“FUUUUUUUCK!” I cry out again, the agony inside me too much to contain. The realization has set in, and the louder my sobs become. She has broken me.
I drive past The Neon Rose and see her pouring drinks like she does every night. My heartbeat speeds up when I see her smiling at the patron in front of her.Even my heart isn’t ready to let you go.She hands him a drink she just made him without a fucking care in the world.She has no inclination that she just ruined me and all of the future plans I had for us. My stare out of my car window is evident as I keep driving.Tonight isn’t for you.
I continue the drive until I notice a smaller building with a row of people in a line waiting to get in.This is another bar that Lee supplies.He keeps all of his clients in close proximity to each other. How lucky for him, this one happens to be close to The Neon Rose Lounge.Maybe he’s just as intrigued in her as I am.
Just thinking about his name makes me strangle the leather steering wheel with rage. A man whom I once considered mybrother is now my adversary. I bite my lip until I taste blood, and my thoughts are clear of all emotion. My lips turn up into a smirk when I notice the small space across from the club, and I parallel park.
My car idles in silence. I let out a long sigh and pull my dark hood up over my head. A mental task list of sorts forms in my mind while looking over the bar and the long line in front of the door to the small club.If Lee is here, I need to find a new way in. My plan will only work if I can remain unseen.
My eyes move over to the crowd of people in the long line. The men standing next to their dates are looking desperate in similar outfits of distressed jeans and flannel shirts. It’s like they’re photocopies of what their dates asked them to be.Pathetic.They’re positioned behind their dates–or who they wish were their dates–with looks of impatience and overeagerness. Their eyes move down their skin-tight clothing as it clings to each of their curves. With each glance, I wonder how easy it would be to replace Thalia with one of these desperate-looking women.
I look around to the side of the building and notice a small alley, similar to one I familiarized myself with between Thalia’s bar and the small boutique next door. I zero in on a man coming out of a thin door next to a large, dark green dumpster.He must be one of the employees. There’s my way in.
The ricochet the door creates while it shuts is muffled by the loud noise from the crowds in front of the bars and restaurants on either side of the narrow street.
I stuff my hands in the pockets of my black zip-up sweatshirt and look both ways before crossing the busy street.Safety first.I manage to walk through the empty alley unnoticed. Thepink light from inside the club shines under the small slot at the bottom of the door. It creates a soft neon glow on the wet and dirty concrete. I try my hand at jiggling the gold, metal door handle.Too fucking easy.
Making my way in through the back way of the club, I manage to get past one of the employees as I hide my face under my hood and look down towards the dark, stained carpet.I made it in.Continuing to be inconspicuous, I walk through the short hallway, past the bathrooms and the kitchen, until I’ve made it into the small open space of the club. The bar is near the back of the building, unlike The Neon Rose.
My senses are assaulted as I make my way through the crowded room full of barely dressed women and the smell of overpowering perfume.Play the part, Alan.Reluctantly, I sigh and remove my hood. I walk through the thin spaces between groups of people towards the long bar in the back of the building, continuing to push myself past many groups of people who reek of intoxication and sadness.This is fucking pitiful. Only a few more steps and I’m there.
I find an empty space at the end of the bar and notice the bartender eyeing me up and down. Without any sign of hesitation, he gives me a wink. My mask of contempt conceals my expression as I try to hide my disgust.His eagerness is annoying as hell.
“Hey, handsome. Are you here alone tonight?” His dark mustache moves up, covering his small smirk.Remember, play the part, Alan.
“Yeah.” I parrot his smile. “I just needed to get out. Rough week at the office.”
“I get that.” His eager look stays on his face. “Do you want anything to drink?” He stands with his hands on his hips and waits for myresponse.
“Yeah."Keep it up, Alan. “I’ll take a bourbon and coke.”
“Coming right up.” He grabs the glass and adds a few ice cubes. I watch his hands move as he pours in the two shots of bourbon and fills the rest with Coke.His technique is sloppy.He slides the drink in front of me. “Here you go, handsome.” His mustache moves up again over his smirking lips.
“Thank you.” With a curt nod, I pick up the glass and notice the splashes of bourbon around my glass. I wipe the excess drips from my cocktail on my jeans as he walks towards the other end of the bar.Thalia would have made a better drink.
I study the people sitting at the bar with my glass in hand.Who will be the lucky lady to make me forget that image of seeing her ride my best friend?The women here are not my ideal. They all look like clones with masks full of makeup. The sad excuse for outfits they wear, made of flimsy fabric, covers their obviously fake tits. Most of the hems of their skirts sit right in the middle of their thighs, showing off their long legs. I notice some of the women wearing their jeans skin tight as if they painted the denim directly on their flesh. They all sit at the tables with their phones attached to their hands. Some women scroll mindlessly while others take numerous pictures of themselves and their cocktails.
Standing with my back touching the bar, I try to hide my look of anguish. I let out a long sigh and put the glass up to my lips. More of the bourbon burns my throat as I take a long drink.
The men in the club are just as ridiculous. Some gape at the women while they stand like lost puppies across the room. Others peacock themselves and bravely walk up to the set of clones they've had their eyes on, only in the hope of sinking their dicks into what might as well be silicone robots.This is fucking hopeless.
I turn towards the bar and set down my half-empty whiskey glass.Maybe I should call it a night. None of these women come even close to Thalia.The thought is soon overlooked whenI turn my head towards the other end of the bar.Then again, maybe I shouldn’t be too hasty.
