Chapter 44: Chapter 44: Getting Drunk At The Bar Part 2

I was standing on the pavement next to Mark below the entrance staircase of the building with a frazzled expression as I watched my colleagues descending out of the building one by one, filling the street with their excited chatter.

Even though I knew that the entire team had agreed to a drinking party, it was still a surprising sight to behold to see so many heads towering over my tiny figure.

“Hey.” Looking out the corner of my eyes, I saw Cher walking to me, pushing herself through the mass of people. “Everybody is here, so shall we leave now?” Cher asked.

I nodded. “Sure, but how are we going to get there with everyone?” I inquired.

We both decided in the end to go to a bar near the Manhattan riverside park. That bar had supposedly a beautiful view on the Manhattan river and was only nine minutes away with transport, so we thought it would be the perfect place to start the out drinking festive, but there was one problem that we had overlooked.

How are we going to travel with an enormous group of people? It would be a palpable move to use the public transport, but around this time it will be too crowded with people since it’s the rush-hour, so adding another bunch of people doesn’t seem like a smart move.

“How about we all split into groups and just hail a cab?” Cher presented her idea.

I hummed in agreement. That may be the best move for now. “Shall we?”

“No need to do that.” Pithily Mark interjected himself in to the conversation. We both turned our head up and saw Mark typing something promptly on his phone. I glared semi-cautiously at him. “What do you mean by that?”

Putting both of his hands in his front pocket, he smugly looked ahead. “You will see.” He responded. Confusion was painted on both of our faces as Cher and I glanced at each other, but that expression soon transformed into startlement as we heard a loud honking noise coming from the road.

We snapped our heads to the road to see a Minicoach parking at the side of the road. Our jaws went slack, and we slowly craned our heads to look back at Mark, whose smug grin only intensified.

“You called a Minicoach for a drive that only takes nine minutes?” I screeched incredulously. Those buses are expensive!

Mark pushed out his chest, inflating his already big chest as he snorted proudly. “Yep.”

“Why!?” I cried.

His brow turned into an arch. “You don’t like it? Would you have preferred to go with the public transport?”

“W-Well no-but.” I sputtered. The bus can transport the entire team with no problem, but to throw a couple hundred of bucks away for a short drive is ridiculous!

I was about to open my mouth to protest when I felt a pair of hands pressing my back, pushing me to the luxurious bus. “Now, now April. Don’t you know the saying: Don’t look a gifted horse in its mouth.” Cher said, grinning wolfishly.

“But!” I cried. Cher ignored me and instead beckoned and yelled for everyone to enter the bus. No one hesitated and gladly complied, scurrying their asses onto the bus.

Throughout the short drive, I stared sulkily out of the window, earning a chuckle from Cher and a triumphant look from Mark. Everybody else was enjoying the warm air that was blowing throughout the vehicle, heating everybody slowly up and the comfortable seating.

Arriving at the bar, the hostess welcomed us. When she asked under whose name we made a reservation under, Mark pulled out his gentlemen-like smile and said his name. Like an instantaneous effect of hearing his name, the hostess face lit up and excitedly guided us to our table.

The potent scent of beer and sweat immediately hit you as you went further inside the bar. Everywhere you looked, the tables were filled with customers. Behind the counter you saw a middle-aged bartender with rolled-up sleeves, freshening drinks and filling up orders for the people sitting at the counter. The people there obviously had already drunk quite a bit as their skin were flushed. They also didn’t control their volume when they spoke, letting their whiskey-soaked voices ring throughout the bar.

Our assigned table was a long black table that was made of smaller tables being pushed together. The chairs that were surrounding the table shared the same color as the table, but the vibrant crimson dyed seating cushions stood out like a sore thumb. The table was for the rest adorned with four lit candles that were placed away from each other at a good distant. Next to each candle was a see-through vase standing with a rose in it.

Everybody gasped in awe and slid their coats off, hanging them over their chair. The ladies didn’t waste their time and run like predators to where Mark was sitting, situating themselves around him. I was pretty pleased thinking that Cher and I could just sit at the opposite end of the table without being disturbed, but-

“Ms. Westwood!” Smiling, Mark called out to me and patted the empty seat next to him. I grimaced and was about to refuse, but Mark quickly shot me a warning-glare. I let out a resigning sigh and pulled Cher with me so that she would at least sit next to me.

As soon as we sat down, the surrounding air turned awkward, as the ladies didn’t hide their hostility in their blazing glares. Cher shot her own threatening glare at them and I only tittered, but on the inside, I was reciting a beautiful long sentence that only composed of profanities, as I could feel my blood boiling in frustration.

You guys wouldn’t be as fucking thirsty for him if you knew his true character, I thought as I tried my best to just ignore them and stuck up my hand, calling out to one of the waiting staff that were interspersed around the bar so that we could start taking our order.

The server came and pulled out a pen and a leather pad folder. He went around asking everyone what they wanted and wrote it down. After hearing everybody’s wishes, the waiter went to the bar counter to pass the order over to the bartender.

In the meantime, that the bartender was busy preparing the orders everybody was talking to each other. While I was busy engaging in a conversation with Cher, I felt Mark nudging my leg with his own. I eyed annoyed at him, asking him with my eyes what the hell he wanted, but he himself was animatingly chatting with the ladies around him, putting on his smile that was reserved for clients.

I felt a nudge again and glanced down at my lap to see Mark typing something on his phone beneath the table.

His message puzzled me too much to be shocked at the fact that Mark could type blindly with one hand at that!

“Don’t accept a drink from anyone else except from me, also not from the waiting staff. Just tell me what you want to drink and I will bring it for you.”

Huh? Why shouldn’t I accept a drink that I’ve ordered from the waiting staff?

“Is something there?” Cher's face popped out of nowhere, giving me a fright. Her eyes followed curiously my line of vision, trying to see what I was looking at.

I shifted my body in front of her, blocking her view as I smiled wobbly. “N-No, nothing is there. Sorry, what were we talking about?” I asked sheepishly.

Cher’s brows raised to her hair-line as she laughed mockingly. “Girl, you haven’t even had a sip of alcohol and your mind is already somewhere else. Are you sure you can handle a drink?”

I rolled my eyes and grinned. “Of course I can. I am more worried about you knowing your history.”

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Placing her hand on her left chest, she let out a gasp, feigning a hurtful expression. “I sure don’t know about which history you’re talking about.”

I grinned sardonically. “Yeah, that happens when you chuck down too many alcoholic drinks. You blackout.”

“Shut up!” She laughed as she playfully smacked my arm. I giggled as I was having fun teasing Cher, until I felt a sharp pain coming from my thigh, causing me to let out a sudden yelp.

Cher blinked, shocked, and I laughed awkwardly, letting her know everything was fine. I twirled my head around, glaring at Mark while soothing my thigh with my hand.

Did that asshole just pinch me?

Grimacing, I glanced down again to see a different sentence being displayed on his phone.

“Am I clear? You better answer me before I pinch you again.”

I narrowed my eyes and looked back at Mark. Vertical wrinkles appeared between my eyebrows and I pursed my lips as I felt the anger shimmer in me. The urge to hit him was soaring, but I had to taper my heated feelings down, not wanting to cause a scene- also because I know I would be the only that gets hurt from my hand colliding with his face while he wouldn’t even have a scratch. Bastard that he is.

I screwed my eyes shut as I let out a shuddering breath, breathing out the anger with it.

“I understand.” I grumbled under my breath, knowing that Mark could hear it.

The waiter finally came back with our drinks and some snacks, placing them on the table. But only mine drink wasn’t placed in front of me. Instead, Mark went to the counter and came back with my drink, which earned some questionable looks, but Mark just quietly sat down as if everything was okay.

I cleared my throat and took the glass in my hand as I stood up, turning my head around to look at everyone. “The reason we have this drink gathering today is to forget the happenings of the past few weeks and to just enjoy. Cheers” I ended my small speech and thrusted my glass forward and soon everybody followed suit.

“CHEERS!” Everybody yelled in union, clinking their glasses with each other

“Let’s get wasted!” Cher yelled, slinging her arm around my shoulder to pull me closer against her. I giggled. “Yeah!”

Few hours later the chatters intensified, more alcoholic smells got mixed in to the air, people were getting more comfortable, loosening their ties around their collar or opening a few buttons on their suit. Everybody was laughing at the top of their lungs, but somehow, I wasn’t part of that laughter.

The heaving and hurling sound of Cher was reverberating all over the lady’s restroom. “Is that my gummy bear?” Cher asked meekly in a daze before continuing spilling her contents. I was hoisting up her hair, keeping it away from her mouth as she was too busy introducing her breakfast, lunch and God knows what to the toilet. The heaving sounds and the acid smell that came off it made me feel nauseated- almost making me want to spill out my own contents.

After a while, nothing came out anymore and she slouched down against the stall, her legs flat on the ground as she kept nodding away. I crouched down. “You okay?” I asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She fluttered her eyes open and looked at me with an unfocused gaze. Her face then broke out in an innocent smile. “I loooove you ssssooo much!” Her words were all slurred and lisping.

Oh no.

“You know I love you, right? I love you thiiiissss much!” She yelled and made wide hand motions to intensify her words.

“Yes, yes, I know Cher.” I nodded absentmindedly.

With her eyes shut as if she was about to fall asleep, she opened her arms wide and clenched her hands open and close repeatedly. “Come and give your bessstie a hug!”

I sighed, shaking my head. “I think that you have one too many drink Cher. Let’s get you home.” I said and stretched oud my hand.

And I immediately regret doing that as soon as Cher’s eyes flung open. Pushing her trembling bottom lip out, her eyes welling up with tears. “Why are you saying that? Are you saying that because you don’t want me to be here? Because you… don’t… love me… anymore?” Her trembling voice broke at the end of the sentence and she wailed, flinging herself at me- engulfing me in an impeccable embrace.

Her arms tightened around my neck and I could feel my airway being cut off. “Don’t hate me April! I’m SORRYYYY!” She cried.

Oh God, what am I supposed to with this child. This is what I meant when I said that I was more worried about her drinking than about myself. She is the emotional drinking type; easy to laugh and easy to cry. And the worst thing about them all is that she always forgets about it in the end. I have lost count of how many times she had told me she loved me and when I don’t respond to her love properly; she cries like now, thinking that I hate her.

I let out a heavy sigh and stroked her head soothingly. “I don’t hate you, silly. I love you.”

With mucus covered face she looked at me with her doe eyes. “Rweally?” The way she pronounced her vowel, consonants, and syntax had totally digressed into a childlike manner.

I chuckled, wiping her tears away. “Yeah, of course! How could I ever hate you? I only said that because I want you to go home so that you can properly rest.” I talked to her like you would to a child.

“Bu-”

“You want to see Brandon, don’t you?” I asserted, cutting her off.

She pouted and started to fumble around with her fingers, but still answered quietly. “Yeah…”

I patted her head and smiled, pleased. “That’s a good girl.”

‘I have to call Brandon.’ I told myself.

Sighing inwardly, I looked up heavenwards. There goes operation: Lets sneak out while Mark is being kept busy and everybody is wasted.

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