Liquid fire burnt its way through my throat, if I wasn't conscious of the alcohol I had just consumed I could have easily been convinced to it being poison. In a way it was, consume enough of it and you'd meet the end. Selfishly, a small part of me wanted to meet my end as I sat alone, drinking my life away. Just like any other Friday night, people around me were drinking to celebrate the weekend, two days of freedom with no responsibilities. For me however, it was soon to be two days of pain, sadness and upset, which had led my current self here, drinking until I lay unconscious, at least, that was the goal.
My vision was already blurred around the edges and it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on anything, good. Two women sat beside me, equally as drunk, yet their vibrant moods transformed them into the typical loud, giggling drunk girls. They spoke amongst themselves, discussing which guy was lucky enough to take either of them home tonight and by the sound of things, it wasn't going well for them. At least it seemed to be that way, until my ears popped with the squeal that both girls abruptly made, I turned and followed their line of sight, somehow involved in their search for a good lay, and by the squeals, bingo.
Silver hair was the first thing I noted, followed by the pointed ears, honey coloured eyes and smirking lips. He was attractive but equally as much did he know about it. Narcissistic was the first word that sprung into my mind. I followed his movements, how his eyes scanned the entire bar before he took his first steps, he was almost calculating what would happen before it did. The two girls squealed louder at his approach whereas I found myself facing the bartender, ordering yet another shot of sickly looking, green liquid. Sure, I could stare and admire him, but that wouldn't lead me anywhere. I continued a cycle, as in replacing my glass as soon as it was empty and I'm sure the hair now standing tall next to me took note of my sudden alcoholism, however I could not care in the slightest what some stranger thought, although I took slight humour in naming him 'The Hair'.
Picking up my next drink I found to be a task, I was now, within every inch of the word, wasted, so much so that I swayed, right into Mr hair himself. It was then I found I was held back by a strong, sturdy hand firmly gripping onto my shoulder and as I giggled, just like those two girls, his voice found its way to me.
"Stupid woman." The words that then spewed from my mouth were nothing to be proud of, my less than informed choice to retaliate is what led on to my current, very sticky situation. Recalling that cursed night made me cringe in every way. I gazed up to the front of two large imposing doors and knocked once, twice as I held my breath, pinching the back of my hand to make sure all of this was real, that I was actually so stupid to sign my life away.
One door opened revealing the silver hair, honey eyes and of course the smirk.
"Welcome home darling, your contract starts now".