"Hombre joven, usted tienen gusto otro?" the bar's owner asked the man leaning on his folded arm on the countertop in front of him. Stirring his thin coffee straw, fixated on the two ice cubes circling in his glass, bits of waterdrops fell on the its left side. "Young man?" the barkeep asked a bit louder taping his finger next to the man's glass. "Oh, sorry." looking up from his glass of ice "Yes, I'd like anouther." "Eh, no problem. Hehe." with a gruff chuckle the barkeep poured some liquour into Billy's glass from a rather small bottle.
Turing his head twards the door, small hints of warmth shown in from the morning rays of the small yellow tinted windows of the door. Being in a bar at 9 in the morning wasn't going through Billy Coen's mind, but nothing much else was either. The oblonged panes of glass in the window bent the light, making waves of yellow shine on the bar's few tables and chairs. Morning light always made the dust in the air more visible, it felt as if it had a vintage feel to the small room. The peaceful rays were interrupted by a large framed man walked in from behind the door, yellow light outlined his figure, a shadow cast on the table. The man's metal tipped boots tapped on the wooden planks of the bar's floor as the bell on a string above the door jingled, signaling a new customer. Slamming the door behind him with a loud reverberating sound, Billy rubbed his eyes with a slight groan. The large man sat on the stool next to Billy, his leather pants making crumpled noises as he tried to make himself comfortable on a tall wooden stool. "Hey, ya'll mind if I turned on the T.V.?" "No problemo senor." The large leather man took the remote and began surfing through the black and white staticy television which sat on the tabletop in front of him. "Another loud tourist" the barkeep thought with an obvious shake of his head. He sat a bottle of the bar's finest drink next to the new customer. "Beer senor?"
"Two years since it's been" Billy thought to himself. His mind replaying that night he thought would be his last. Fighting monsters he would never have belived existed, a crazy old man, a nasty leach monster, runing away from a building that housed horror blowing up. "Running away.." he paused, remembering a short girl that stayed by his side to survive, leaving her go on her own way as he went back to Raccoon City and then arriving in Barcelona, here. He had checked his file soon after, his name and his declaration of death, Rebecca kept her word, she saved him, he would no longer need to run. The whirl of static from the television of wrestling stations, to the news to a Spanish soap opera. "Man, there isn't anything on this old box." an annoyed sounding leather man. "Heh." Billy said as a breath of air came from his lips. "Leave on one channel, I dont have fancy cable here!" the barkeep rightfully angry at the leather man. "Oh fine." and he stoped his channel surfing, and consentrating more on drinking his half bottle of beer.
Billy sliding his finger on the underside of the strap on his black tank shirt, barely listening to the sounds of the bar. Picking up his glass of clear liqour he took a drink, the cold liquid felt good traveling down his throat. "And with us now is young cheif scientist of Spain's Umbrella Company, Dr. Howard Allen." the perky voice of a female reporter could be herd above the delayed translation in Spanish which they oddly matched with a lower female voice. "Umbrella?.." Billy set his glass on the table and turned the top half of his body to face the small television.
A thin young man draped in an oversized black lab coat held his face close to the reporter's microphone. His voice was almost timid in speaking, " Uh, yes ma'am. We are comming out with a new line of um, beauty products that can totally erase all wrinkles and scars on the face.." he brushed a few strands of pitch black hairs from his eyes which his bangs still coverd "It's completly safe and we plan to have our product out on shelves in Spain in a few weeks after the American release." Then the lower mainlier voice dubbed it in Spanish after. "And now back to Como el mundo se desmenuza!" the view switched back to a man and woman in red passionately kissing.
"I hate soap operas" the leather man whined. "Its all fake lovey-dovey and dramatic music. Oh I love you Sandra, but I'm in love with Emily. But I am having your baby!" he said in his most highest voice, mocking a bad soap opera cast. The barkeep laughed heartly dispite just yelling at the man for almost wrecking his television."Turistas" the barkeep shook his head with a smile, taking out a few wet mugs and started drying them with a towel on his shoulder, going back to his early morning work.
"Umbrella..again?" the blue eyed Billy Coen asked himself, frowning his eyebrows. "What are they doing here?" He slid his hand in his back pocket of his black slacks, a crumpled up piece of paper rolled between his fingers. Pulling his arms to the front, he set them both on the countertop, he narrowed his eyes at the paper, his thumb tracing the few small black letters of his handwriting. Flipping the paper he read an address carefully written out on the back. Along finding his death certificate, he found where the person who declared it was. Billy slid the paper under his finger, his nail catching a few torn slits, its worn out and almost faded from being folded in his pocket for some time now. "She's probably not even there anymore..." His eyes flashed with the thought of them both just escaping death many times, all from the same company that's come back.
Billy stared unblinking at the shelves lined with half empty coloured bottles in front of him. His mind set in thought, he saw himself and Rebecca saying a short goodbye on the edge of the cliff, the same morning light rising over blurry rows of trees. Placid light that they survied, unknowned dangers awaited both of them on their seperate ways. A shaky eyed girl saluting the former leuitenant, trying to leave with a strait face, Billy couln't help but replay watching her leave back into the forest, "Thankyou, Rebecca."
"Otro?" Billy's flashback ended and his vision came back to the small bar. The barkeep holding Billy's glass of melted ice and a bent straw had asked him. "Oh, no thanks." quickly replying. He stood up, both hands on the countertop, scooting his stool to the side. "Hey..I gotta go." he said with an almost urgent sound in his voice as he pulled out a few dollars from his pocket, sliding it flatly on the counter under his hand. "Thanks for.." looking at the small bottle that contained his drink "..the Vodka." "Gracias, Senor" the barkeep picked up the money after Billy let go.
Walking to the door, his own shoes tapped loudly on the wooden floor. Reaching the door, Billy layed his hand on the edge of the door for a pause, opened it and took a step outside. "Take care young man!" the barkeep called out to Billy with a slight smile. A quiet reply, "Yeah." and Billy Coen stepped outside completely, the door shutting loudly behind him, the soft pale rays of sun layed out around him.
Turing his head twards the door, small hints of warmth shown in from the morning rays of the small yellow tinted windows of the door. Being in a bar at 9 in the morning wasn't going through Billy Coen's mind, but nothing much else was either. The oblonged panes of glass in the window bent the light, making waves of yellow shine on the bar's few tables and chairs. Morning light always made the dust in the air more visible, it felt as if it had a vintage feel to the small room. The peaceful rays were interrupted by a large framed man walked in from behind the door, yellow light outlined his figure, a shadow cast on the table. The man's metal tipped boots tapped on the wooden planks of the bar's floor as the bell on a string above the door jingled, signaling a new customer. Slamming the door behind him with a loud reverberating sound, Billy rubbed his eyes with a slight groan. The large man sat on the stool next to Billy, his leather pants making crumpled noises as he tried to make himself comfortable on a tall wooden stool. "Hey, ya'll mind if I turned on the T.V.?" "No problemo senor." The large leather man took the remote and began surfing through the black and white staticy television which sat on the tabletop in front of him. "Another loud tourist" the barkeep thought with an obvious shake of his head. He sat a bottle of the bar's finest drink next to the new customer. "Beer senor?"
"Two years since it's been" Billy thought to himself. His mind replaying that night he thought would be his last. Fighting monsters he would never have belived existed, a crazy old man, a nasty leach monster, runing away from a building that housed horror blowing up. "Running away.." he paused, remembering a short girl that stayed by his side to survive, leaving her go on her own way as he went back to Raccoon City and then arriving in Barcelona, here. He had checked his file soon after, his name and his declaration of death, Rebecca kept her word, she saved him, he would no longer need to run. The whirl of static from the television of wrestling stations, to the news to a Spanish soap opera. "Man, there isn't anything on this old box." an annoyed sounding leather man. "Heh." Billy said as a breath of air came from his lips. "Leave on one channel, I dont have fancy cable here!" the barkeep rightfully angry at the leather man. "Oh fine." and he stoped his channel surfing, and consentrating more on drinking his half bottle of beer.
Billy sliding his finger on the underside of the strap on his black tank shirt, barely listening to the sounds of the bar. Picking up his glass of clear liqour he took a drink, the cold liquid felt good traveling down his throat. "And with us now is young cheif scientist of Spain's Umbrella Company, Dr. Howard Allen." the perky voice of a female reporter could be herd above the delayed translation in Spanish which they oddly matched with a lower female voice. "Umbrella?.." Billy set his glass on the table and turned the top half of his body to face the small television.
A thin young man draped in an oversized black lab coat held his face close to the reporter's microphone. His voice was almost timid in speaking, " Uh, yes ma'am. We are comming out with a new line of um, beauty products that can totally erase all wrinkles and scars on the face.." he brushed a few strands of pitch black hairs from his eyes which his bangs still coverd "It's completly safe and we plan to have our product out on shelves in Spain in a few weeks after the American release." Then the lower mainlier voice dubbed it in Spanish after. "And now back to Como el mundo se desmenuza!" the view switched back to a man and woman in red passionately kissing.
"I hate soap operas" the leather man whined. "Its all fake lovey-dovey and dramatic music. Oh I love you Sandra, but I'm in love with Emily. But I am having your baby!" he said in his most highest voice, mocking a bad soap opera cast. The barkeep laughed heartly dispite just yelling at the man for almost wrecking his television."Turistas" the barkeep shook his head with a smile, taking out a few wet mugs and started drying them with a towel on his shoulder, going back to his early morning work.
"Umbrella..again?" the blue eyed Billy Coen asked himself, frowning his eyebrows. "What are they doing here?" He slid his hand in his back pocket of his black slacks, a crumpled up piece of paper rolled between his fingers. Pulling his arms to the front, he set them both on the countertop, he narrowed his eyes at the paper, his thumb tracing the few small black letters of his handwriting. Flipping the paper he read an address carefully written out on the back. Along finding his death certificate, he found where the person who declared it was. Billy slid the paper under his finger, his nail catching a few torn slits, its worn out and almost faded from being folded in his pocket for some time now. "She's probably not even there anymore..." His eyes flashed with the thought of them both just escaping death many times, all from the same company that's come back.
Billy stared unblinking at the shelves lined with half empty coloured bottles in front of him. His mind set in thought, he saw himself and Rebecca saying a short goodbye on the edge of the cliff, the same morning light rising over blurry rows of trees. Placid light that they survied, unknowned dangers awaited both of them on their seperate ways. A shaky eyed girl saluting the former leuitenant, trying to leave with a strait face, Billy couln't help but replay watching her leave back into the forest, "Thankyou, Rebecca."
"Otro?" Billy's flashback ended and his vision came back to the small bar. The barkeep holding Billy's glass of melted ice and a bent straw had asked him. "Oh, no thanks." quickly replying. He stood up, both hands on the countertop, scooting his stool to the side. "Hey..I gotta go." he said with an almost urgent sound in his voice as he pulled out a few dollars from his pocket, sliding it flatly on the counter under his hand. "Thanks for.." looking at the small bottle that contained his drink "..the Vodka." "Gracias, Senor" the barkeep picked up the money after Billy let go.
Walking to the door, his own shoes tapped loudly on the wooden floor. Reaching the door, Billy layed his hand on the edge of the door for a pause, opened it and took a step outside. "Take care young man!" the barkeep called out to Billy with a slight smile. A quiet reply, "Yeah." and Billy Coen stepped outside completely, the door shutting loudly behind him, the soft pale rays of sun layed out around him.