Xirysa Says: Wow. Valentine's Day. Also known as Singles Awareness Day. –sigh– Anyway, here you go. Lame 'fic is lame.
Fool's Gold
The sound of glass on wood cracks sharply through the nearly empty tavern as he downs yet another mug of beer and slams it on the countertop. He looks up expectantly at the barkeep, who quickly fills the mug again. Giving the man a curt nod in thanks, André lifts the mug and brings it to his lips.
He can hear the murmurs of the other patrons of the tavern as they watch him down mug after mug of alcohol—whispers about being jilted by a lover, losing something dear, being turned away from the person he held most dear to his heart.
They don't understand how right they are.
One man finally has the courage to finally ask him what is wrong. "Damn… What's wrong? You've been here all evening."
André swallows thickly. "Nothing, really." He squints into the mug and frowns when he sees that it is already half-empty.
"It was a lady, wasn't it?" When André suddenly looks up at him and scowls, the man grins. "Don't let it get to you," he says as he orders his own mug of beer from the barkeep. "Just forget the bitch and live your life."
Sighing, André swallows another mouthful of wine. "I wish it were that simple."
Taking a sip of his own beer, the man shrugs and sits down beside André. "She's only a woman—there's thousands of 'em in Paris. Just go to a brothel or something and have fun for the rest of the night." He hawks and spits on the floor. André sees the barkeep cringe. "That's what I would do."
"Perhaps."
"Women…" the man says as he looks André in the eye. "Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em." He takes another sip and continues. "I mean, just look at that Austrian woman. If she hadn't come here, France and Austria probably would have gone to war. But even though we're not in a war, Paris is worse than before."
The taste of the alcohol is acrid and sharp on his tongue, but André doesn't care. He takes another gulp, his eyes watering as it burns his throat. "You don't know what I mean, though. She…" He doesn't know what to do, what to say, and he looks at the man pleadingly.
"You love her?" The man looks at André curiously.
André nods.
The man snorts and takes a large mouthful of beer. "Pfeh. Love. It's for fools. You know, I thought I loved a girl once. I proposed, and she said yes. Stupid cunt ran away with my neighbor a week later." He finishes the mug and slams it down on the counter. "You can't trust love."
André simply shrugs and downs the rest of the alcohol. The man beside him continues.
"I mean, it's like fool's gold. It looks nice and pretty from far away, but then you realize that it's really not when you get closer." He spits again. "It's just a load of shit.
André looks at his drinking companion, his face expressionless. "Maybe."
The man just shrugs at him. "She's just a woman, anyway. Nothing important. Forget her and move on." He puts a coin on the table and walks out the door. "There's plenty of women in the city. Just find another," he calls over his shoulder as he is swallowed by the inky blackness of the Parisian night.
And so he is once again sitting alone at the counter of the nearly-empty bar, once again trying to fix his broken heart.
Just let go, he tells himself over and over as the barkeep fills his mug once again. Let go of her, so you don't have to deal with this heartache anymore.
But he can't. And the sad thing is that he knows that he never will.
Xirysa Says: Sorry if the language in this bothered anyone. But you gotta remember that woman were more or less looked down upon back then. Feedback would be nice, however… Yeah, I'm shameless.