The floor was hard but it was clean. She cuddled up tightly with Christine's sleep over blanket, a large printed liking of Randy Orton striking his usual "viper" pose. She'd bought it for Christine two years before she died and surprisingly it still smelled like her. She played soft music from her music, some of her favorite music from Christine's playlist. For now, The Night We Met by Lord Huron was playing, and she found herself on the brink of tears. It had been a year since Christine's death but it felt like it was only yesterday that she had to organize the funeral. Her heart was still breaking. She never really had a chance to mourn, she never let herself cry either. In her mind, Christine deserved no tears, she deserved smiles. That's what she would have wanted at least. It was moments like this however that made her realize how empty the space around her was. She could feel her heart shattering in her chest, making her hiss. She needed to get out, take her mind off of things. She pushed herself off the floor, staggering slightly as she searched for her dark washed skinny jeans, and studded belt. Her knee high black socks allowed her to smoothly pull her legs in her pants. She found her white dream catcher tank top and leather jacket, sliding on a pair of black boots and headed out the door. Her car keys jingling on her hip as she made her way down the stairs, her phone clutched in her hand as she began scouring through the map of the area before settling for a nearby bar.
She made it to her white 2014 Ford Focus, settling into her eco fitted seats and revved up the engine. She pulled out carefully and turned the car out, driving forward into the busy street. Her mind raced, hoping she could get a gin and tonic, God knows she needed it. She hated being alone, and she hated feeling lost. Her legs ached, she missed her nightly stretching, she was too busy putting her bag of belongings away and making dinner to stretch. She only hoped this bar would help ease her troubles.
Dean threw a shot back, grimacing slightly at the burning tingle that fell down his throat before feeling a hush of warmth spreading throughout his body. He normally didn't go drinking on work nights but Seth and Roman had convinced him and after looking at his schedule for the next month this might have been the only time he could see them.
He felt a hard hand clasp him on the shoulder, making him grunt softly. He looked up from his shot glass, meeting the gaze of Roman.
"Bad day?" He asked, Dean sneered and took another sip of his jack and coke.
"You could say that," he answered with a shrug.
"Wanna talk about it, brother?" Seth asked, his black hair tied into a small man bun, leaving his blonde strip of hair hanging down. Dean furrowed his brows.
"What the hell is that on your head?"
"Hey, don't change the subject, douche," Seth shot a look at him after chuckling, taking a sip of beer.
"I wouldn't have to if you didn't get all pretty for me," Dean teases. Roman let out a hearty chuckle before adding in.
"He has a point, bro."
"You two are just jealous of my lady killer style,"
"More like cock block style. Who would fall for that?" Dean pokes fun at him. Seth's cocky smile fell instantly before a waitress walked past them and winked at him. Seth arched his eyebrow on interest.
"I rest my case. I'll be back." Seth said, leaving his spot to chase after the waitress. Dean shook his head and Roman giggled.
"So seriously what's wrong, bro. I haven't seen you this down since Renee left."
"What are we, girls?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Look, it was just a bad day, I found out I'm supposed to be training some newbies and this chick knocked into me at the store then called me a dick." He explained in a long drawled out sigh, his Cincinnati accent slurring through some of the words.
"Oh I get it, she bruised your ego,"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Dean didn't get a response as Roman's eyes seemed to catch a lone woman walking up to the bar. Dean didn't bother with looking at first, Roman had a wife and wasn't the type to cheat but when he heard a familiar voice ordering a gin and tonic he had to look. At the end of the bar sat a quiet looking girl, her brown hair looking more red under the dim lighting of the bar. Her grey eyes outlined with sharp but subtle eye liner. She pulled out her cell phone and set it in front of her. She looked tired and...he couldn't figure the last part out.
"No way." He growled, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"What?"
"That's her!"
"Haha! Really?! Go talk to her," Roman encouraged,
"Nope."
"Come on the worse thing that can happen is her telling you to fuck off,"
Dean watched as the bartender handed her drink. She smiled at the man, thanking him.
"What are you doing alone?" The bartender asked her. She took a sip from her drink and cleared her throat.
"I just moved here, I don't really know anyone yet besides my landlord. She answered. Dean felt Roman's eyes burning into the back of his head. He met his gaze with a raised brow.
"What?!" Dean snapped.
"Go. Talk. To. Her."
"N. O."
"Oh really? Well, welcome to Los Angeles..." the bartender welcomed, smiling flirtatiously at her. Dean felt annoyed at the sight, seeing her eyes narrow slightly. She was becoming uncomfortable.
"Auburn, and thanks." She nodded her head, taking a bigger sip of her drink.
"Auburn? That's a unique name, how's your parents come up with that?" She was about to answer him when Dean found himself calling the bartender over.
"Hey! Can we get some, like, nuts or onion rings her or something?" The bartender stood up straight, throwing a glare their way before nodding. Auburn glanced over at Dean, a blush returning on her face. She left some money on the table, getting ready to leave. Dean jumped to his feet. He caught her arm, making her look back at him, her eyes widening at his grip.
"Can you let go of me?"
"Is that anyway to thank the man who saved you from an awkward date?" He smirked at her, she cocked her head.
"What?"
"Sit with us."
"Excuse me?"
"Come on, kid. I'm sorry for earlier, just come sit with us and enjoy your drink. There won't be any funny business, my friend just doesn't like seeing people alone in the bar." Her eyes roamed over to Seth. She pointed her thumb over to him.
"He's alone, you going to invite him to?" She challenged.
"Trust me, kid. He ain't alone." He began pulling her over to their spot. Roman's eyes brightened up, smiling warmly at her.
"Hey, I'm Roman." He said, sticking his hand out. Dean watched as she took it hesitantly.
"Auburn, nice to meet you."
"Likewise." Dean grunted, grabbing her drink for her and handing it to her. She nodded her thanks at him,
"So what brings you to Los Angeles?" Roman asked, Dean remained quiet, hunching forward and staring at his glass as he listened.
"A promise," she said vaguely. His jaw flexed again.
"A promise?"
"Yeah, I couldn't really back out of it."
"Can I ask what was promised?"
Dean looked up from his glass, his eyes searching her face enough to notice the small tears forming. She took a deep breath before answering.
"I'm attending a pro-wrestling academy tomorrow,"
"Oh, so you are training to be a wrestler?"
"Yeah, But her hearts not in it. Didn't you pay attention, Ro?" Dean scoffed. Auburn flared up at him.
"What the hell are you talking about,"
"Hey, you said it yourself. You are only doing this because of a promise. Who made you promise to go to school, huh? Your mommy and daddy? I guess you know who we are, right?"
"Dean—" Roman warned only to be waved off.
"How dare you?!" She snapped, standing up and tossing her drink on Dean. Roman muttered a curse and Dean gasped, clearly taken aback by the girl's fierceness. "You know nothing about me!" She spat, turning on her heels and storming out of the bar. Dean's eyes followed her, her fists clenched tightly by her side. Guilt kneaded into his gut, he'd just ruined her night. Instead of just going after her like his conscience was telling him to, he just shrugged it off. After all, he was probably right anyway.
