CHAPTER 4—AT THE BAR
I sit at the bar and analyse Draven's contest. I have a growing suspicion that my brother, who values entertainment above winning, would happily lose the contest to me if I resort to his methods to win it. This would enable him to make capital of the situation. I can already hear him bragging:
"My pickup lines are so good they even work for my brother, hahaha…"
I resolve to triumph without resorting to any sort of Dravenism.
Unfortunately, shameless lying is also part of Draven's way with women, which means that I should restrict myself to honesty.
However, if I am too honest I will make it apparent that I have no real interest in true romance, because I am only doing this to prove something to my brother and to the other Noxians.
Hmmm. Grrr. I am hating this Draven Special already.
No point in delaying the inevitable. I'll just have to approach women until I can find one willing to listen to me. I'll be friendly and honest, and see if anything comes of the direct approach.
A woman in a very swank black evening dress is staring morosely into her drink at the other end of the bar. Great. I'll play the attentive listener, and see if I can cheer her up. I move in immediately. However, my mouth betrays me and I find myself saying:
"Pardon me, ma'am. My name is Darius, and I'm in the mood for some intelligent conversation, which I never get when I'm with my brother. May I join you?"
The woman straightens and turns to face me. Without a trace of warmth, she says, "What do you really want, Darius?"
She pronounces my name Dahri-oose. Strength for glory, it's Fiora. This could get ugly.
"I'm sorry, you must be waiting for somebody else. Whoever it is, he's one lucky man because you look stunning."
"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?"
"It's a long story, involving several idiots."
"One of whom is your loutish brother Draven. I loathe that man."
"I completely understand that. I'm not feeling a lot of love for him myself, at the moment."
"Vraiment? I thought that the two of you were inseparable."
"He's in the other room partying it up with Katarina and Cassiopeia. It was Katarina who was trying to show off her skill with knives but instead ended up ruining my suit jacket, shirt and tie. I'm done with them for now."
"I see."
I get the impression that she is politely waiting for me to leave. For some reason that annoys me and I resolve to stick around a little longer, to test her patience.
"I would like to congratulate you on beating me in lane the other day. With a victory like that, you should be the one smiling and I should be the one looking grim."
Fiora looks surprised, as well she should. As a general rule I keep praise to a minimum. She says nothing for a few seconds, while her eyes scan my face suspiciously for any trace of mockery. My smile, however, is up to the test. Eventually she mutters a thank you and returns to staring at her drink.
I decide to try to outwait her, hoping that she will lose her self-control and insult me. That would be satisfying. To pass the time I ask the bartender if he has any shirts in my size, knowing that the Oasis does sell merchandise to tourists.
Soon he returns with one and I put it on.
"How do I look?" I ask brightly.
"Like an arrogant Noxian tourist trying in vain to be cool," says Fiora coldly after barely glancing at me.
Inwardly I am laughing. Indulging in a little Demacian-Noxian rivalry is more fun than Draven's stupid contest.
"I could point out that most Demacian tourists are equally as arrogant and just as uncool in the eyes of most of the rest of the world, but I won't. I'm not looking for an argument over which of our countries exports the most attitude."
"What are you looking for then?"
"I enjoy intelligent conversation, and my brother can't supply that. You could, if you could get past the fact that I'm Noxian."
"Please allow me to be blunt. I'm waiting for someone and I don't want to be seen with you."
"Please allow me to be equally blunt. I'm perfectly willing to make myself scarce, but before I do, may I comment that you've been sitting there looking unhappy for some time. I think your special someone has stood you up."
Fiora is actually pouting. Strength for glory, that's awesome.
After a few seconds of silence, I wonder if I pout like that when things don't go my way. I probably do…I decide not to rub it in any more.
"You know, Fiora, even though you are Demacian and I am Noxian, I do feel your pain. I've been stood up myself, more than a few times. And with my brother being the master of the casual meaningless intimate encounter, I really can't make him understand that his consolation advice always makes me feel even worse."
Again Fiora looks surprised. Obviously this side of me is something she never suspected existed.
"Just one toast and then I'll be on my way. Bartender! Set us up."
"This had better not be a Noxian trick…I'm not in the mood for a bad joke." says Fiora sceptically. But she accepts the drink and waits to hear the toast. I hope I can make it sound dramatic.
"To Success! May it soon reach out and sweetly caress us instead of lurking just out of sight around a corner in a dark alley."
"Well spoken. Santé." Fiora clinks my glass and downs her drink.
"Santé." I imitate her, but before I can slam my glass down on the bar a new voice is interrupting us:
"Demacia! What the Hell is going on here?"
End of Chapter 4
Next: The Newcomer