It had been a whole week since Daria had seen Barsad at the bar on that Saturday and she soon realised the unlikelihood of ever seeing him again and therefore gave up on any hope of a romantic encounter with him. On Saturday evening as she was driving to Exotica, she thought of how different she was to the girls she served at the bar. She wasn't the type to go out partying every night and sleep with random men – hell, she'd never even gotten past first base with a guy! She remembered about some of the guys at Gotham High who would try and sneak around with her behind the bleachers after football matches she'd go to – not because she cheered at them or anything, although she always had been a gymnast; it was just that cheerleading, to Daria, seemed so pretentious. She preferred dance: ballet, modern, contemporary. She loved dance, dance was in her blood and she had attended classes twice a week up until her mom's death. Everything stopped after her mom died, she stopped going to school and dance in order to get a job. She got work at shitty cafes and newsagents on and off for a year before she found some weird sense of solace in Joey's bar and after that she got a permanent place there working three nights a week with decent pay.
She pulled up outside the bar and went inside. Tonight, she'd opted for tight black disco pants, a dark red v-neck top and her Doc Martens. She felt good tonight and had put on a shade of lipstick that matched her top. She nodded at the bouncers who were already on duty and headed to the bar, greeting her workmates as she went. The night passed in a dim-lit and noisy blur and it was what Daria considered a typical night, with at least four men being thrown out for starting a fight and two gold-digger-looking skanks bitch-fighting in the middle of the dance floor, trying to claw each other's eyes out or rip out each other's platinum bleached blonde hair extensions and them too, being thrown out. Daria sighed as she pulled up outside her apartment block. I kinda wished he'd been there tonight, she thought to herself. Barsad had been the only guy in a very long time to spark up even the most remote hint of interest in Daria. Whatever, she thought.
On Monday morning, at around 10am, Daria woke up and walked to her refrigerator before looking inside and mumbling, "Oh great, now I need to go to the frickin' store…" considering how the contents of her fridge consisted of some yogurt, a couple of Coronas and a pack of bacon. She hastily put on some black jeans and grey sweatshirt before grabbing her keys and wallet and walking to the store. She returned an hour later and as she began unloading her groceries she stopped short and stared at the contents of her fridge.
I swear there were two bottles of beer in this fridge, what the-, she thought, frowning at the only bottle of beer left in her fridge. Whatever, maybe I'm still half asleep. Blame it on my fucked up sleeping pattern, I guess.
On Tuesday evening at 5pm, she once again set out to Exotica in her car, wearing black leggings and a silver scalloped vest top with earrings to match and once again, her Doc Martens.
"Hey, doll, you look hot tonight," winked Kelly.
"Aw, Kel, why thank you," Daria replied putting on a southern American accents and pretending to blush.
"Hoping to score anyone's number tonight?"
"You know me, Kel, terminally single and will probably end up alone with 15 cats."
"Don't be silly, good looking gal like you will find your prince charming, someone rich and handsome, y'know like Bruce Wayne."
"Kelly, are you kidding, Bruce Wayne hasn't been seen in public for what – six? Seven years?"
Kelly smiled and shrugged, continuing to chew her gum, "Maybe he's not your type. I know who is though…the cutie patootie from last week, huh?"
"Oh my- Kelly, will you stop going on about that guy, one: he is not my type! And two: I haven't seen him since, so there – he's not into me."
"Blah blah blah, all I here is denial," Kelly winked, walking over to the first couple of customers.
Daria sighed, exasperatedly and began taking the drinks orders of a group of young guys.
"That'll be $25 please."
The guy who paid for the drinks smiled at her and throughout the night, Daria noticed, was the only guy in his group to come and order the drinks. Two or three hours into her shift, he came over for the fourth time. He smiled shyly at her and asked her what time her shift ended.
"Around 2:30, why?" she asked flirtatiously. She didn't know him at all but she wanted to get that Barsad guy out of her head.
"Well, me and my friends are celebrating so maybe you wanna party with us after your shift?"
"Isn't it a little late," Daria laughed.
"Heyyy, it's never too late to party, c'mon, whaddya say?"
"Okay, sure, tell me ya name?"
"Andy. You?"
"Daria."
"Pretty name for the pretty girl with the pretty smile."
Daria laughed and Andy told her to come find him at the end of her shift. The night went on and secretly Daria was excited at the prospect of an actual nice guy taking an interest in her. At 2am there were only a handful of customers let in the bar and so Joey let her and Kelly off early, with Kelly offering to help clear up since she wanted Daria to go and have fun.
Daria spotted Andy in the corner and walking over she asked where his friends were.
"They're just outside getting a cab. Let's go," he said, placing his hand on her lower back and steering her out of the bar.
As soon as they were outside Daria noticed how there were no other guys outside getting a cab and suddenly Andy pushed her into the alleyway and before Daria could protest and much less scream out he lunged at her covering her mouth with his and slobbily kissing her whilst he held her arms pressed firmly against the brick wall of the alleyway behind her. His hands began to slip lower and he was soon roughly grabbing at her ass and sliding a hand underneath her top. She tried to push at his chest but it was no use as he had at least fifty pounds on her. She began squirming and he finally took his mouth off of hers and just as she was about to scream out he clamped his sweaty, meaty hand over her mouth. Her eyes wide and dilated with fear began to tear up.
"Don't scream or so help me I will beat the shit out of you, you got that?" Andy breathed in her ear.
He slowly released her mouth and she began to plead in a desperate whisper, "Just let me go please, I won't scream, I won't tell anyone, please, please, just let me go, please, don't hurt me, oh god no, please don't rape me, please…" tears began to fall from her eyes.
"Bitch, shut the fuck up," Andy said harshly as he closed one hand around her neck.
Daria daringly kneed him in the balls causing him to double over and release her from his grip and she began to stumble towards the entrance to the alleyway before he regained his composure and grabbed her hair, turning her around to face him before smacking her right across her face. She screamed out as his hand collided with her face and as she fell to the floor she heard two gunshots.
She expected to feel the pain and then the blood but soon realised that she didn't recall him ever having a gun. Instead of standing up she stayed down and hoped that whoever had fired the shots wouldn't shoot at her. Suddenly she heard voices and suddenly found herself back inside the club with someone shoving an ice pack on her now throbbing cheek.
"Daria? Daria? Oh my god, are you okay?!" she heard the frantic voice of Kelly. "We heard a scream and then gunshot and shit oh my god, I' so glad you're not hurt!" Kelly grabbed her hand and squeezed tight. In the background she could hear Joey phoning 911.
She recounted what had happened and as the police arrived she retold the story again before the police, after much argument, allowed her to drive herself home. The swelling had gone down immensely and her cheek, although red, wasn't that damaged.
She paused outside her front door and noticed, as she tried several times to push the key into the lock, that her hands were shaking.
"Shit," she grumbled to herself, and walking into her apartment.
She fumbled for the light switch and what she found in front of her caused her tremors to still.
In the middle of her apartment was a man. A man holding a fucking gun. She was stunned into silence as she looked at his dark combat boots and dark cargo pants. He wore a dark jacket and a red neck tie or scarf. It was him. Barsad.
"Well, aren't you going to offer me a drink?" he asked with a smirk.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Please review, it would mean a lot to me, I don't usually actually write fanfiction so I'm not sure how I'm doing, so dome feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!