Thread; 003 - Blog Posts
astral-silk:
closed starter to @le0davis location: dive bar on 9th
There was a certain tension to the expression she held as she practically stormed into the bar, as if she might turn into torrential downpour at the slightest twitch out of deadpan. Sometimes life just felt so frustrating and impossible. Like she was constantly swimming upstream and wasn’t going anywhere. Some days it was easier to handle, to stay focused and keep that dream alive she’d held since she was a child. Other days it felt like this—chaos in her head. Like she wanted to scream in the streets; ask all of New York why she just wasn’t good enough.
It’d started from the moment she’d woken up. Late to class because she was late to wake up and had to commute from the Bronx into Manhattan because she was too poor to live down by NYU. The perpetual underlining of every experience; an emphasis she could never escape. It made every bad day even worse. And then to top it off, by the time classes were over and she’d rushed to get to NASA, a taxi driver had splattered dirty snow water all over her. That not only earned her some extremely judgmental looks from all the astrophysicists, but also had her pulled into a meeting with her boss. The boss that she’d been sleeping with to even have her internship spot—not that it was that big of a deal outside of the quid pro quo. She was actually attracted to them, all things considered. But the least they could do was understand she hadn’t intended to show up covered in mud—she just didn’t have time to go home and change. After twenty minutes of being spoken down to, the rest of her shift continued in similar fashion. It was like she just couldn’t get it right. Nothing she did, all day long. The last straw was being yelled at by one of her coworkers for interrupting him, to give him the seltzer water he’d asked for.
That’s what landed her here, cheeks flushed with anger but unable to express any of it. She was negative in her cashapp—how the hell did that even happen? But at least she had some quarters in her wallet. “What can I get you?” the bartender asked. “A shot,” she responded, painfully obvious she wasn’t much of a drinker. She really wasn’t supposed to drink—the doctors said it was bad to drink on steroids and her nephritis wouldn’t take kindly to it. She didn’t care. She was frustrated. “Um…” she paused. “Vod…ka?” it came out like a question, like she was unsure of herself that vodka was even a spirit. And then slid her handful of quarters the bartender’s way. “Will this be enough?” She couldn’t even feel the embarrassment of it anymore with how exhausted she was from the day.
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Leo’s index finger and thumb appiled pressure to his throbbing temple. today was one of those days where he couldn’t escape from his wife’s attempt to communicate with him. though he couldn’t blame his wife for the silly game of twenty-one questions about his feelings. no, that blame belonged to his therapist. he rubbed his eyes now, with elbows propped on the bar. why on earth was it so important to know what he was thinking about? he’ll never understand nor did he want to. he felt like he was exisiting and trying his best. how was that not enough? he let out a groan and pulled his hands away from his face to find the bartender freshening up his drink.
after some proper nursing of whiskey on the rocks, leo was feeling a lot better. he was buzzed. completely radiating with false energy that was just his heart stressing under the poison of his vice. leo offen people watched when he was this phase. his spotlight now shone on the tall, raven haired woman who sat adjacent to him. he watched her in silence, pinching his cold glass in his dominant hand. he took a drink just as the bartender had spoken to her. he almost laughed; his mouth curving around the glass as he sipped his drink. it was the most amusing order he’s heard since someone ordering a slippery nipple.
Leo couldn’t help but insert himself, eyeing the mix of dirty and shiny quarters in her palm. He let out a low whistle. “Looks like we know where all the missing coins went.” He said, referencing the national coin shortage. Him making a joke, really kept him from sympathizing with her at first. He had been there once before. He couldn’t even afford a bagel with a proper smear when his career was going down the drain. “That’s not enough if you want to numb up whatever you’re feeling.” His tone still coated in smugness. His brown eyes read her face some more as he leaned back in his seat. His gaze shifted to the bartender. “I’ll cover the rest. Give her a triple and a water.” The bartender looked over at her for confirmation, as the amount of quarters she had presented them was barely enough for one shot.
