After The Kiss

Two Years Later

Becca sauntered into the bar, the sharp smell of alcohol wafted towards her like black plumes bellowing from the windows of a burning house. She did a quick sweep of the room. Like every other friday night, it was cheerful in a noisy kind of way. The bar was hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing with the defeaning music that dominated the atmosphere.

She slowly made her way to the counter and slumped on a stool beside it. The barman greeted her and she smiled in return. She leaned on the bar and watched quietly as he skillfully poured beer for a customer. The liquid glittered and danced gracefully into the cup.

"What would you like?" he asked coolly, eyes drooping momentarily to her low cut neckline.

"A martini," she replied rubbing her eyes absent-mindedly as he busied himself with making her drink.

"Here you are," the bartender said with a toothy smile as he pushed the cup towards her.

She grabbed it and enthusiastically gulped it's content earning a surprised look from the guy beside her. She couldn't care less. Her mission here was to forget all about Marvin and it must be accomplished. A vibration in her pocket halted yet another journey of the cup to her mouth. She took out her phone, it was Julia calling. Julia was her best friend and roommate. She thought about picking the call but decided against it as she wasn't in the mood to narrate sob stories.

'Can't talk now' she typed into the phone as she gulped the last batch of her drink.

"Another," she requested pushing the cup back to the bartender. He returned it within a couple of minutes. After three quick gulps, the cup was empty and she asked for a refill. She lolled her head to one side, pushing out her red lips just a little. The drink was slowly working it's magic on her. She wasn't drunk but definitely not sober.

"Having a bad night?" The guy asked.

"Nope. I'm good," she replied, not bothering to look at him.

"Okay. I'm Charles," he smiled, "and you?"

"Not in the mood," she said hoarsely.

"What if I try and put you in the mood?" he asked with a cocky grin.

"And how do you intend to do that?" She turned to face him for the first time since the conversation started. He was definitely in his late thirties, bald and his permanent grin exposed teeth in desperate need of cleaning.

"My car is outside," he winked. "I will take you for a ride you will never forget."

"Oh really?" she whispered raunchyly with mischief dancing in her eyes.

"Uh huh." He nodded with a look of accomplishment.

"Thank you," Becca murmured as she took her drink from the bartender and in one swift move emptied the glass on Charles's head.

"Shit!" he yelled. "Fuck you bitch!"

"Maybe next time jerk!" She gritted her jaw as she slammed the glass on the table.

A tear ran down her eyes but she wiped it off furiously. She let her mind meander to the event of the night before. Her boyfriend after taking a break for two weeks, called off their three year long relationship via text. The icing on the cake was that he also used the opportunity to announce his fast approaching wedding to his ex girlfriend, the same girl she spent months helping him get over. He didn't forget to add 'it's not you, it's me' in his text because obviously a breakup text was never complete without those words.

"Another," she groaned, running a hand through her knotty hair. The bartender arched his brows as he collected the cup from her.

"Don't you think you should go easy on the drink?" he asked as he pushed the cup towards her.

She sloppily rolled her eyes as she snatched the drink from him. She lifted the cup to her mouth but before she could take a drink, someone interrupted her.

"Hello," the voice said.

She clenched her teeth as she inhaled sharply and let out the air slowly. She turned to look at the owner of the voice and to say she was stunned was an understatement, he was a specimen of a man. His flawless chocolate brown skin was clad in a white cotton shirt and black pants. His tousled black hair was thick and lustrous. He was tall and muscular with an almost perfectly symmetrical face.

"Hello," he said again. The deep tenor of his voice reveberated in the air and his midnight black eyes stared into hers.

"Hi," she replied.

"Uhmmm, I just..." He squinted and sighed.

"What do you want?" she asked impassively.

"Your hair, it's..." He paused trying to find the right word.

"It's what? For the love of God can't a woman have a drink without being sexually harrassed ?"

"I was not..." He began to speak but was interrupted by a woman in a short red dress.

"What's going on here?" the woman asked.

"Is he yours?" Becca asked, giving her her full attention.

"He's with me. Is there any problem?"

"Well tell your boyfriend to leave me alone."

The woman pursed her lips and sighed before turning to him. "Andre what's going on?" she asked calmly.

"This woman is crazy. I was getting a drink when I saw her and out of the kindness of my heart, I tried to tell her that her hair and makeup was messed up but she just blew up in my face," he launched into response.

The woman turned to face Becca as she silently brought out her phone to check if his claims were true. Her hand flew to her mouth when she saw that her hair was dishevelled and her makeup was in all the wrong places.

"Why didn't you say something?" she whispered as she futilely tried to wipe the mascara that had dripped down her cheek.

"I tried but you went all feisty on me," he said in his defense.

She eyed him furiously before scooting towards the ladies room.

Twenty minutes later, after unsuccessfully trying to summon the spirits of her ancestors to grant her the power of teleportation, she was left with no choice but to do the walk of shame. With her head down, she walked silently to the counter and paid her bills.

She sighed with relief when she finally made it outside the bar. As she tried to flag down a cab, she reasoned that the apartment would definitely be empty as Julia was never around during weekends. Going to an empty apartment wasn't so appealing. She needed to be with someone, anyone. Taking out her phone, she dialed Peter's number. He was the only one she could think of who could comfort her. writing here…