Drops of vodka slid down my hand as I studied the overflowing glass with light refracting from the side, making rainbows dance along my arm. The old club was almost empty tonight—it was just me and Joel, the new bartender. He mindlessly downed a few shots, drowning his sorrows of being rejected by this new girl in town. I haven't seen her yet, but I've heard from numerous sources that she could easily be Aphrodite, the Greek god's, relative. The mere thought intoxicated me even more.
The brown antique upright piano was catching and collecting dust in the far left hand corner. Although I was the pianist, I never played. At least not anymore. Just a simple A sharp would remind me, the vile old man, of her, my little neighborhood Lolita. Her voice would fill my mind with sweet, innocent things of the past that has kept me from smiling. It was just too painful—that limitation.
Life put many limitations out for me. That's why we never ended up together in the first place. Marty was thirteen, I was twenty-nine. We were two star-crossed lovers from the start. We both longed for each other, but the gap in ages seemed to stop me cold. As she advanced forward, I stepped back. I planted sad, true concepts in her head that we both ached to deny.
Picking Tracy over her was a huge mistake. I know that now. Tracy sensed it too—after we got back from my hometown, I grew more distant and depressed. Things my girlfriend did that once aroused me now seemed silly and annoying. Every time she tried to get me to sleep with her, I'd lace the situation with lies that'd make her stop. After awhile she finally caught on and our relationship broke off. It was a new beginning for her and a new resolution for me.
There was always resolution in my existence.
"Hey, Willie—it's time to close up shop." Joel's voice wavered as he reveled in his slightly drunken state. He swiftly cut off the lights, but stood at the doorway, watching my hand go through my dark brown hair. "Y'okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Ya sure? You seem down."
I sighed, irked at his observance.
"I'm fine. You go home; I'll be out in a bit."
"Okay. Bye, I guess."
"Bye."
I waited for him to scoot to his car before I let the visions of the pale, brown haired beauty occupy my daydreams. In all of them, I would be holding her as she softly spoke of her life while I was away. Sometimes she'd even lift her head up to press her soft lips to the bottom of my chin. Never my lips, but that was enough. My Marty still wanted me—well, at least my illusion of her did.
A/N: Okay, when I get at least four reviews, I'll update.