Never once in her life had she regretted anything. Yes, she may have done some bad things, but that never made her feel any pain. And yes, she may have been a little bratty, but that's how she grew up. With money. With popularity. With knowledge. But most of all, with power. In the dog-eat-dog place this world has become, power was important. Power was a must. No doubt about it.
But what happens when love gets in the way of power? The one thing she truly hated. No, maybe not the one. Unpopular kids had to be in the number one, right? But still, love gave her nothing but heartache. And if the one thing she had enough of was heartache.
The walk to the bar was cold. The girl with the long black hair would never consider Winter her favorite season. She never enjoyed even the littlest of snow. And when you live in Canada, you don't exactly get the littlest of snow. More like blizzards, as her late-grandmother would say.
But the 16-year-old was more occupied looking through the neon signs filled with the new sparking make-up jars to care. The purse she held to her side was making a jingling noise as she crossed the street to look through the windows.
Product. Importation. Expensive. All things she considered when buying anything. But today wasn't her Make-Up Day. No. That was Thursday. Today was Get Drunk Day. And today, she needed something to make her mind wander, and nothing better than to get totally wasted.
The teenager crossed the street one more time before she could reach the bar. And when she got to the door, the same man who has been there for months to check ID was still there. She had already bought a customized Drivers Licence that gave her the age of 19, and since she was considered a local to the bar, he didn't need any ID. And beside, even if he did suspect that she was underage, she had already done the man enough favors to let her go through for the rest of her life!
"Hey Tony, I'm here for the normal. Oh, by the way, you look very buff in that snow hat!" the underage girl commented. Being a Suck-Up to also get what she wanted was also an easy-to-do job for her. She could almost feel the world balance on her finger tips, and the taste of temptation to do whatever she wanted was on her lips. She owned this world.
"Thanks yer, Heather. The Old Misses bought this ol' hat way back. Yer being the firs' to notice. Come on ins," said the old man. I'm being the first to notice that? That ugly hat should have been noticed as the winner of the Ugliest Accessory Award she quietly thought. She only slightly smiled and entered the bar that always warmed her heart. No, not her heart. But more like her entire body.
She walked to the same booth and the same stool she always sits. The same bartender who has been making her martinis since the day she first arrived to the pub. He only had to acknowladge her existence before he got out a glass and a couple of bottles of whiskey, liquor, and beer.
"Hey Ricky. Just the normal," Heather told the bartender. He was old too, but not as old as the ID Man. Maybe late 40's. Not really handsome, but his hair stood out like a sore thumb. His hair was a beautiful shade of blond. Some may even call it gold.
"Why of course, Miss Heather. And actually, the first round is free. That man over there already paid your drinks when you first came in," Ricky told the young woman. But in truth, this really wasn't a shocker for her. She was used to getting free drinks at least twice a night. But never one as soon as she came in.
'Which one of these guys was it?" she whispered to the man.
"The one with the green mohawk. He's been eying since you first entered the door!" Ricky tried to whisper, but in reality, it came out kinda loud. He pointed to the man at the table located by the small the stage the bar had.
"Thanks, Ricks. I'll be right back," Heather told Ricky as she walked away. She quickly checked and added her lipstick, and walked closer towards the man. As he saw her getting closer to him, he quickly turned away, trying to avoid the determined girl. When she got to the table, she pulled out the seat to the left of the man.
"Why hello there. I heard you bought me some drinks. Is there anything I can do to repay you?" Heather asked the man in a flirtatious way. But even though she directly talked to the man, he was still looking the other way, with his hand covering his face.
"Um...No thanks," the mystery man said. But with his hand covering his face, it included his mouth. So it sounded more like a mumble.
"Look! I'm trying to be nice, which is something I don't do very often often. And you decide to treat me like crap. You better look me in the eyes and tell me thank you. Cause if you don't, I don't have any problem sitting here for the rest of the night. Understand?" Heather yelled at the man. It was true, she didn't normally do this, but this man had an energy that made her want to go with him. She was mad at the disrespect this man gave the woman. Doesn't he know who she is?
"Fine...Whatever," said the man. His face still hidden under his hand. He dropped his hand off his face, turned the way the woman was, and frowned. He looked directly into Heather's eyes. Black. But they gave such an expression that both provided shock, and jealousy. Her look was a combination of fear, but also smug. She was definitely a site to see.
"Well, looked what the cat dragged in! Duncan. Haven't seen you in a while. But may I ask, how did you get in here? You have to be 19. And last I checked your only 17," asked Heather. She looked in his eyes. She felt hate run through her body, but she also felt safe knowing that one of her old 'companions' was nearby.
"Well, angel, I could ask the same thing! But I just sneak in. And if I'm what the cat dragged in, then you must be what the devil dragged in, toots. But either way, it's nice to see ya. Now, if you mind, I have some babes to check out," Duncan told Heather. He made a hand movement to get out of the way. But she still starred at the man. She was actually kinda proud, and maybe some would say attracted to the way the man in the mohawk treated her. The whole 'I don't care' attitude. She couldn't have said anything better.
"Hmp. Well, you still didn't say thank you. So that means that I get to stay here for the rest of the night. You move, I'll move with you. And if you are here to check out girls, why did you buy me a drink?" informed and questioned the girl. She suddenly got hot.
"I didn't know who you were! I didn't think your hair would have grown out. And I kinda forgot what you looked like with hair. And now you are wearing a sweater. Not used to seeing you when your not showing skin. So forgive me!" argued Duncan. But again, he spoke the truth. It had taken a rather long time for her hair to regrow since first season. And only Winter made her want to dress 'cleaner.' She would freeze to death if it wasn't for the clothing. But still, the thought of him checking her out left chills down her spine. She had already kissed him, even if it was for a challenge to possibly win one million dollars.
"Well, even if you are telling the truth, I'm still staying. I have nothing better to do but make guys like you try to buy me more drinks, and lets face it, I can spend money on my own beer every once in a while," Heather informed Duncan. She motioned for the bartender to bring her drinks over to her at the table. "So you might as well be giving me a reason to stay here. "So," she put her feet on the table, "tell me how you've been living life," she put her elbow leaning on the stage so her arm was holding up her head. "I'd love to hear all about it," she winked, and waited for a respond from the juvenile.
"If there weren't so many people here, you know I would have killed you," moaned Duncan. "But too many witnesses. So where should I begin..."
...
"Well, that explains....a lot.... so your scared of Celine Dion Standees because of that! Trust me Duncan, our lives aren't that much different. The only thing different is that I'm popular!" and powerful thought Heather. "And your such a wuss!"
"Yeah, you think. I don't spend my time trying to impress girls like you," Duncan argued
"You may not spend your time, but you do spend your money," argued back Heather. She held up the empty jug of beer.
"Yeah, b-but that's-s 'cause I want t-to!" stuttered the drunk Duncan. He cracked at only half a keg and two jugs of liquor. She was barely even tipsy.
"Great. Now I get to sneak you back home," Heather pointed to Duncan. But he never told me where he lived. If he lived anywhere. What if he ran away from home? He didn't like his home very much, Heather though
"N-no. I can make it back all by myself," Duncan found the strength the stay. But his 'L's sounded more like 'W's.
"Yeah, I don't think so. Go to the bathroom if you need to. 'Cause if you puke next to me, I swear to god, I will never talk to you again. So go," Heather yelled at Duncan like an undisciplined 5-year-old and pointed to the bathroom.
"Whatever," he moaned. As he stood, he fell. And even on the ground, he laughed. The kind of laugh that is so loud that everyone looks at you.
"Wow. Great. Alright, well, come on Duncan," Heather chuckled, "I can take you to my house. But please promise me that I don't have to drag you," and moaned.
"You-u have a house! B-but your only wike, 17. Where is your 'rents?" questioned drunken Duncan.
"My parents are so rich, they gave me the small house on there property. It used to be a tool-shed, but I used my money on making it something else. And, I did a few favors," replied the Heather that was bragging. She lifted Duncan off the floor, being sure to dust off his baggy skull shirt and bagging pants.
"Let's go, Drunkan," joked Heather. But Duncan found that joke a little too funny. He laughed even harder than when he fell.
...
The walk from the bar was harder than to the bar. It was even colder than when Heather came, and now she had to deal with a man stumbling at each and every step. At least I'm with someone cute compared to all the other guys, thought Heather. But it was true. She found a nice little sparkle in his eyes that just made her stomach flutter. She hasn't felt these feelings since....a long time.
When she got to her house, she quickly had to drag Duncan to make sure that her parents didn't catch the two running across the lawn to her house. She opened the door and the smell of fresh apples blast out the door. She loved that smell. It was so simple and childish, yet so mature.
"Okay, Duncan, you sleep on the couch and my bed is--" she was pointing to her bedroom, but noticed that the man she had brought here had disappeared. Oh god, what if went back outside. I won't be able to catch and drag another drunk man, thought Heather. Worry was sweeping over.
"Hey, H-heather, you might want to put a candle in the bathroom. Got a toothbrush-h?" asked Duncan, slowly sobering up, but puking his contents into her pink toilet.
"Why would I have a toothbrush for you? Think about that when you get more sober," she screamed while she was in the kitchen getting an apple to munch on. "Now, you can sleep on the couch. Like, now. I'm tired and had a long day, and want to get to bed soon!" she was still screaming. But as she went to the bathroom to check on her puking friend, she noticed that he was in her bed. Sleeping. And getting drool all over her satin sheets. She thought about waking him, but noticed how cute he looked when he was sleeping. That brought both a cute and quick smile that quickly faded.
She grabbed her pj's and changed in the bathroom that smelled like beer and stomach acid. She found it hard to change with one hand covering her nose, but she did it anyways. The couch was sleepable. It wasn't soft, but it wasn't filled with rocks. And even the fabric smelled like apples. One of the few things she found joy in. She closed her eyes, and let Duncan's snoring carry her to her dreams.
...
The next morning, she did have a hangover, but not nearly as bad as Duncan. She woke up and went to put on her bath-robe. She went to the kitchen, grabbed a bag of ice, a few aspirin, and a two small cups of coffee. She banged on the door to her room with Duncan sleeping on her bed.
"Wake up Sleeping Beauty," she screamed to make him jump awake with him holding onto his ears to block out the loud noise.
"You suck, know that," Duncan whispered to Heather.
"Would someone who sucks be letting you sleep in her bed, use her ice, drink her coffee, and use her aspirin?" she argued to Duncan.
"Why are you being so nice? The Heather I know is a self-absorbed no-it-all who can care less about others? Your scaring me, man," Duncan asked Heather. Sitting up on her bed, swallowing the pill. Heather sat next at the corner same side of the bed he previously slept on.
"Who told you I'm nice. I just found you interesting last night. And this is thanks for letting me be entertained by you. Do you always snore when you sleep?" Heather tried to tease Duncan. But he spoke the truth. For some very strange reason, she wanted to be nice near him. He made her want to not criticize his adorable snoring. Oh god, what if this is...love? She questioned to herself.
Her stomach filled with butterflies. She was now growing weary of that feeling. Her head was filling with thoughts. The only thing she could ever love was herself. She hadn't loved any other human being in a long time. This was a surprise. But why her? She was happy without love. But now, she was trapped in a corner. Heartache would come soon enough. She was surrounded. She couldn't win. She was powerless.
But, she was hesitating to fight it off. She didn't want to. But even if she tried, she would still lose the battle of love. She was stuck between a rock and hard place. She might as well surrender.
"Well I don't know. It's not like I'm awake when I'm asleep. Do you always start the morning flirting?" Duncan questioned.
She was speechless.
"I'm not flirting. Trust me, you'll know when I'm flirting," she said with a smug look, but could feel her checks get warm.
"Heather, I spent a long, horrible summer with you. I know when your flirting. And right now, you are flirting. But hey, your kinda cute trying to make me like you, toots. So how 'bout you get yourself some breakfast and I'll consider dating you," said Duncan in a teasing voice. But it sounded as if his words were real.
She uttered a curse-word under her breath and left for the kitchen. She wasn't willing to let this guy make her choices. But she was hungry. But she did really wonder if he liked her. It was like he read my mind, she thought. Her heart pumped fast. This guy made her want to act different. And that was something she just wasn't willing to do. But she couldn't help it. She walked to the kitchen and grabbed an orange. She couldn't help but get mad at the man for teasing her and reading her thoughts. She wanted to let her mind wander. Get rid of the series of events that happened in the last 12 hours. So random, yet so fun.
Duncan came out of the bathroom with one of Heather's bathrobes on. She stared in shock of how childish a man with a mohawk and dog-collar wearing a pink bathrobe would look.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," smirked Heather.
"We went through this last night. I got a hang-over, and my throat burns. So lets skip more insults, angel," moaned the man.
"Whatever, just don't get your smell all over my 'robe. I don't want to be smelling like prison," Heather joked.
"Ha ha, very funny," he said, using as much sarcasm as he could. "Don't want to ruin the smell of crappy perfume now, do I?" Duncan teased. She just rolled her eyes and gave Duncan a mint for his coffee, morning, and puke breath. He grabbed the mint and started to chew.
"Anything for breakfast, tiger?" Heather teased. She opened her cabinets and fridge. Duncan walked over to check the belongings of both.
"I know what I want, but not for breakfast," Duncan teased, reached over to grab Heather, and kissed her on the lips. She closed her eyes. Seconds went by.
"Bet you liked that, didn't you. Now that's your 'Thank-you,' and this, this ones for me," and kissed her again.
She was shocked. But that still didn't want her to push Duncan away. This was heaven. Her heaven.