text: This is a **work of fiction**. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental \ The music was blasting, my ears were ringing already, and I was only at the bar. My musketeers had asked me to fetch them some drinks while they evaluated the state of the dancefloor and looked for potential dance partners. It was too early for me to party; I felt like shite, I could still smell Anne’s perfume in my sheets and in my pillow. I couldn’t bring myself to wash them, maybe yearning for her touch was my way of beating some sense into my own head. That woman had been in my life since I was 7 years old, and now, in every moment of the day, I always felt like there was something missing, no matter where I went and no matter what I drank. The waitress came back with 4 rum and colas, throwing me out of melancholy lane for the moment. I tapped my card, collected the glasses and snuck a peek at those beautiful green eyes of hers as I mouthed thank you, they seemed to beam with their own light. Back on the dancefloor, we were doing a poor job at balancing our drinks in one of our hands while dancing like proper dorks: flapping our arms like birds, doing the robot; the whole shebang. I loved the fact that we were happy to chill for once; when we were in our early years of university, it was all about women and it got boring quite quickly for me. We must have looked ridiculous together since we are extremely different. Raf stood at 2 meters tall, slim, with wild curly brown hair breaking free from underneath a stylish hat, and a huge nose. Loui was looking careless lately: he had left his black hair to grow out of control, almost reaching shoulder length, thick glasses framed his pale white face. He didn’t visit the gym that much anymore; you could tell he was ripped, but we had all seen him in better shape. Richard was out hunting tonight, he wore a stylish white shirt over some jeans and when he raised his hands to dance you could see the hypertrophy struggling to break the bonds of that expensive shirt, tattoos sneaking off to his forearms from the sleeves. I stood between Richard and Loui, my dirty blond hair was barely combed through and I was wearing a shirt that did a good job at hiding how much I had stopped taking care of myself lately. Richard was the first one to spot them: the blonde was hard to miss. She was probably under 25, and she was wearing a dark red dress that was too short for my taste, ending just a few centimetres from her bottom. She was petite, slim and slender, but the dress stuck to her like a second skin, shifting over her as she danced. It was mesmerising, I had to admit. The dark red tones of her dress matched her lip colour and contrasted with her porcelain skin. She was wearing a heavy layer of makeup that probably took a few hours to put together. I could still hear Anne’s voice: *‘If you want me with a proper face on, either shut up or fuck off. Would you darling?’* The dress reflected some of the dancefloor lights and made that golden hair of hers even more obvious. She was sipping on a cosmopolitan and talking with her group of five friends. I could already see ‘The Womaniser’ thinking about a plan of approach. Richard was an open book to most of us. We had known each other since we were in our early teens. Raf pointed towards Richard, as he moved towards the group of young women. He smiled; ‘Classic Richard’ screaming out as body language to those that could read it. Patience is a virtue and I was not in a hurry to turn this guys night out into whatever it was that Richard had on his mind. I had recently started to drink a lot faster, and hence, I was running dry, so I went to get another one for myself. Alcohol was starting to numb my previous melancholic state of mind and I felt like indulging myself. From the bar, I asked the green-eyed bartender for a whiskey double. She briefly made a recommendation of a brand they were carrying. I was happy to humour her, she nodded as she went for the bottle. From the bar, I could clearly see Richard perform his mating ritual moves nearby the group of girls, casually approaching. Not casually enough. Their faces went from amusement to annoyance to amusement again as he realised that he had been caught and went full dork mode again. ‘Your friend better stay away from Chloe, she is too much for him to deal with.’ I barely caught the last words over the loud music. I turned to see an attractive woman around 30, wearing a very light layer of makeup over dark caramel skin and what looked like pale brown eyes, yellow maybe, I couldn’t tell with all of the lights. Her lips were a shade darker than her skin. She wore a very simple black dress that clung to her shoulders by a single strap around her right shoulder, almost touching one of the two silver loops hanging from her ears. She was of medium build and looked like she hadn’t been skipping gym lately. Her expression was a mixture of contempt and irritation. ‘How do you know that I’m with that dork, lady?’ I smiled as saw Raf and Loui join Richard in what it seemed to be a native American rain dance. ‘Cause you’ve been laying everyone low with those 60s moves and we’ve been laughing at you for the entire night!’ She wasn’t quite smiling. ‘I don’t see the problem on making a bunch of, if I may say, very lovely women laugh at us. Do you?’ I offered her my most innocent smile. ‘Ha! Cheeky!’ It seemed that comment caught her by surprise, as her stern face lit up momentarily. ‘So, you’re with Chloe the cheerleaders, I take.’ I asked pointing at Chloe and her red dress. ‘It’s more of a hen party actually. She’s is getting married.’ *‘Jack, STOP it. Get up, please.’* I somehow managed to smile through the flashback of my brief, failed attempt at marriage. ‘Pleased to meet you, mother hen.’ I replied playfully, extending my hand. ‘Oh, would you sod off?’ She slapped my hand away, looking irritated, after a brief pause she turned her back on me. ‘Pardon me miss, I meant no offence, I was simply jesting.’ She looked away, without bothering to answer. I got the message loud and clear. My drink got here, I signalled the waitress to come close. ‘I’ve been a proper jerk to that lady I’m afraid! Whatever she’s having, get her another, and charge it here.’ She nodded and loaded the contactless payment platform with the proper amount. Whatever I ordered for her was cheap. I collected my drink and gave it a sip. ‘Holy moly miss! That’s some proper whiskey, thanks for the recommendation.’ I smiled at her. She smiled right back and made an ‘I know a thing or two’ gesture. I shook her hand and went back to the dancefloor, quickly setting my unfortunate encounter aside. It was only 1 am, I had plenty of time to have fun. ‘Somebody got rejected by an Indian goddess.’ Loui shouted at my ear. ‘She was already angry to begin with! She cannot take a mild joke...If you talk with her, whatever you do, do not call her mother hen.’ I said. ‘Hahaha, you can be such a twat sometimes Jack.’ He replied while smiling. We talked about the girl group for a few minutes, got the remaining musketeers up to speed. I grabbed Richard, who was looking a bit grim after discovering that his mark was already taken and invited him to join me for a legendary waltz. After we were done and we were all laughing at the poor show we were putting on, someone tapped me on my shoulder. I turned to see Mother-Hen, holding an empty glass and looking less angry than before. ‘My friend told me that you love nicknames.’ Loui shouted through the music, sharp as ever. ‘You can call me Daddy Rooster!’ the subtle Richard strikes again. ‘I see you’re all clowns!’ she replied. ‘Yup!’ we shouted in unison. That got her to laugh and she got closer to me so that I could hear her better through the blasting speakers. ‘May I return the favour?’ She raised her empty glass. ‘You may.’ I was short for words. I didn’t know where this was going, this woman was still feeling a bit off, and I wanted to be a bit cautious. ‘Tell her to get me a rum.’ Loui wasn’t done being an idiot. As we headed towards the bar, it got quieter and quieter. We could finally speak in a normal tone of voice. ‘Sorry, I overreacted before.’ She looked forward, trying to find a spot to order. ‘Don’t worry about it, you’re not the first nor the last lady I piss off by running my mouth off.’ She was walking in front of me; I got a brief look of the back of her dress, which was open just before reaching her lumbar back, showing a discrete tattoo in black ink between her shoulder blades. Her skin tone made it really hard to see clearly. We saw a spot in the middle of the bar and we headed towards it to order. ‘What are you having?’ she asked. ‘They have a lovely single malt here, the bartender will know what I’m referring to. Tell her no ice.’ I turned around and placed my elbows on the bar. 'My my, a bit young to take your stuff straight aren’t you?’ She playfully stated, her tone change was sudden and it seemed out of character. ‘Just old enough to appreciate my liquor bare.’ If she was game, so was I, god knows I could use some company. There was something wrong with this lady though, I could feel it, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. She nodded as she spoke to the waitress and swiped her card. She had a single ring on her right hand’s middle finger, a silver band and a black stone. Classy. Our drinks got here and we gently knocked our glasses together. ‘So I take that to keep things civil I’m going to have to call you by your name.’ I said, while taking a small sip, it was lovely. ‘My name’s a bit long, you can call me Shiva.’ She said, funny enough, an Indian goddess after all. Shiva was the male God of destruction, I could faintly remember. ‘Nice to meet you Shiva.’ We shook hands. ‘I’m Jack. So, how is it that you ended up in charge of the girl scouts over there?’ She smiled. ‘I’m their boss...’ Her face turned grim again. ‘I really didn’t want to come here.’ ‘How so?’ I could relate. ‘Oh you know they are just in the whole celebration mood. They want to drink till they’re fuzzy enough to not give a fuck and then go to this strip club down the road.’ I knew the place, it was one of my recent haunts, something that I wasn’t about to admit. ‘They’ve hired a boy toy for a private party.’ I did not know they had male strippers. ‘They just want to enjoy the view as he shakes his junk all around the place.’ She was clearly nervous about this last part, which made me wonder why. Her thumb kept turning her ring around her middle finger. ‘Well, if you are looking for an alternative, you are in luck! My friend Richard there happens to be a fantastic dancer.’ I said. ‘Is that the discrete one?’ She smiled. ‘That’s his surname, yes’ Her smile grew wider. ‘Yea I bet he wouldn’t mind.’ She kept turning the ring on her right hand around. ‘You two could have your own number.’ ‘Ha! It’s a work in progress. We don’t get much practise I’m afraid. I can barely dance while I’m sober so we only get the chance while we’re out!’ I replied. ‘It sounds like that’s not very often.’ Her expression turned neutral again. ‘Do you come here much? I haven’t seen you around.’ ‘No, I‘ve been a bit of a shut-in lately, but it’s good to go out with the gang again.’ I pointed at them. Raf seemed to take this as an invitation, as he decided to approach us. He faced Shiva, greeted her by taking his hat off, with his other hand, he took my glass and chugged my drink in one swift gulp. I closed my eyes, raised my eyebrows, gently shook my head and sighed with a profoundly sad expression. You don’t do that to a nice whiskey. I could have slapped him, except, not really, because he was too bloody tall. He smiled as he flicked me off and went back to the dancefloor. ‘Well... that’s one way not to drink whiskey.’ She said. ‘Yes indeed, but I’m not ever going to teach that twat how to drink for pleasure rather than numbness.’ I waved at the waitress, pointed to the glass as I mouthed another one. ‘Please, let me get this for you.’ She said. The waitress was pouring the whiskey into the measuring cup. ‘Under no circumstance lady. You’ve already bought me one.’ I held my card on my hand. ‘But your friend drank it! You didn’t get to have anything...’ Her tone turned melodic and playful again. She got closer to me. ‘Let me get this for you. Please. I probably make more than you do anyway.’ She said as she held my hand back with hers. I’ve always had a short fuse, and I’ve always been very aware of this fact. It has always gotten me into trouble. Even my mom was never able to understand how I could ignite so easily when I was being looked down upon. ‘How patronising of you!’ I tried to hide the fact that my blood was boiling under my skin with a very poorly faked smile and a mockery of her playful tone. I removed her hand from mine with more firmness than I meant to, as I signalled the waitress to ignore her. ‘Oh please don’t take it the wrong way!’ She replied sung with that bloody tone again, it was driving me insane. ‘I must be 10 years older than you! Just let me get you that drink!’ She said, putting her hand again on mine so that I couldn’t swipe the card. ‘Seriously Shiva, piss off, I don’t want you to pay for my booze.’ At that point, I was the one wanting to slap hands away. ‘Oh come on... Did the baby get offended?’ She got uncomfortably closer and she playfully grabbed my cheek. ‘Don’t be like my kid!’ My patience came to a sudden end. ‘Yeah, I bet you don’t need anymore else that just wants you out of their life.’ The slap made the heads of everyone in this side of the bar turn. There was a jolt of pain under my left eye. When I opened my eyes I saw her face lit with a fury that I did not expect. She drew her hand back again, her upper lip was drawn upwards and I could see her teeth showing. She hit me again, on the same side with her open hand. She was going for the third hit. I grabbed her wrist, gently but firmly. ‘Whatever the hell you got going on, love, you should really get some help... You obviously need it.’ I said. I let go of her hand, as I gently pushed her back, picked up my whiskey, drank it like Raf did, placed the glass down and headed for the exit of the club. She didn’t say anything, she just stood there. I only caught a brief glimpse of her face before I turned, a weird mixture of anger and embarrassment. My friends had been watching, they had seen what happened and they were coming to meet me. ‘What in the world did you say to that woman? It looked like you were about to have a little moment there. I blink and I see her properly slapping you.’ Richard looked worried. ‘You okay?’ ‘Yea, of course, I’m okay. It’s not like I’ve never got slapped before. To be honest I don’t usually mind getting roughed up.’ I joked while trying to make this less serious than it seemed. ‘We’re not taking you out ever again. You never keep your mouth shut.’ Raf said, barely standing. ‘Now we’re going to have to hit another club!’ I smiled, and a jolt of pain went through my right cheek again. She had some wrist power for sure. I put my hand on my face to find that it was sticky. ‘What the hell?’ I thought out loud. ‘Jack, you’re bleeding.’ Loui said. ‘Let me have a look at you...’ I tilted my head back so that we could shine some of the lights from outside the club. ‘How did she even draw blood?’ I wondered. ‘I don’t know but you have a nasty ass cut on your face mate. Maybe two? I can’t quite tell.’ He grabbed my face and made it face the light. ‘We’re going to have to get you stitched up to avoid this from scarring. This looks deep...’ ‘Oh my god there they are!’ We four turned our heads. Shiva and Chloe were out of the club, apparently looking for us. They approached us with urgency. ‘Coming for strike three?’ I said while they were approaching. ‘You crazy cow! You managed to cut me!’ ‘I know...’ She said after arriving, panting, a fine layer of sweat on her forehead. She paused for a moment and looked at her hands, which were bloody. ‘It was the ring. I’m so sorry I lost it there I...’ She didn’t finish the sentence, she looked down and her gaze fixed on her hands. ‘Apologies not accepted, now kindly piss off.’ I replied. ‘No, wait! I’m really sorry, may I please have a look? I’m a doctor.’ She insisted. ‘No, you may not. Seriously, leave me alone before I call the coppers.’ I was not impressed by her sudden remorse. ‘Look, the sooner you get that stitched up, the lesser chance you have of it actually scarring. I live in that block.’ She pointed at the building directly opposite to us. ‘I’ve got the necessary stuff to patch you up in the next 10 minutes. I’m a surgeon so I know what I’m doing. You can call the police afterwards if you want, call them now if you want. Just... let me fix this.’ *‘Please Anne, just... let me fix this.’* I looked at Loui, he was almost done with the fifth year of his medicine grad. He didn’t say anything, which meant that he somewhat agreed with what she said. ‘How much has she had to drink?’ I asked Chloe, she had just observed the encounter, silently standing behind her boss all this time. ‘She doesn’t drink at all.’ Chloe looked at us worried, and then to Shiva. ‘She did come back with two drinks from the bar once, but we checked. You know? Cause we like... we thought we had finally gotten her to grab a proper drink but no... they were both sodas.’ That was the first time I invited a woman to a flipping soda in a club. ‘Seriously, you should let her stitch you up. You can’t even imagine what she does to faces on a daily basis.’ Said Chloe. ‘I think I might have a slight clue.’ I pointed at my open wound. ‘So I take you’re less of a doctor and more of a plastic surgeon.’ said Loui, he was aiming for neurosurgery, elitism was something that just came in the package. ‘Yes, I’m a plastic surgeon.’ Shiva barely looked at him to respond before turning to me. ‘Just please let me help. Please?’ Her yellow eyes stared right into mine. \ We walked into the lobby in complete silence, we hadn’t spoken since we left Chloe and the musketeers waiting downstairs. We got into the elevator and we both turned and stared at the door. The elevator went up to the twentieth floor, the last one, it wasn’t a short ride. It was the only apartment on that floor, must have cost a fortune. She pushed her keys into keyhole and swung the heavy duty door open. I didn’t break the silence as I didn’t want to wake up some kids in the middle of the night with a bloody face. She turned the lights on, the lounge turned bright. The ceiling was quite high for an apartment, it was about 3 meters high and it had white walls with dark brown furniture, the floor was pale marble, it looked a bit like a futuristic palace. There was a single corridor making the way into the apartment. A single empty three shelved shoe rack marked the start of the no shoe zone. She took her heels off and placed them there, leaving her purse hanging inside the closet. Everything was in an immaculate state. ‘Could you take your shoes off please?’ She said. ‘Yes of course.’ I bent over to undo the laces on my trainers. A few drops of blood fell on the marble floor. They looked like how the dress looked on Chloe’s skin. ‘Ugh, I’ve...’ I said struggling to find my words. She turned around and she looked where I was pointing at. ‘Oh don’t worry about it, I’ll clean it later. Come to the bathroom, I got my first aid kit there.’ She looked nervous, but emotionless, cold, like a bonfire that’s just been smothered by a bucket of water. She moved into the apartment turning lights on as she reached the switches. I followed her after I had neatly placed my shoes on the rack next to hers. The corridor was long, I passed two rooms on my right hand, one of them had punk rock posters pasted on the door, Sum 41 and Green Day. I smiled, those were from my generation. The second room had a figure of a moon hanging from the knob and was open. I peeked in, and the walls were blue, a single cradle was in the corner that was visible from the door, and there seemed to be a mattress on the floor, which looked slightly out of place. ‘Jack?’ I heard her call my name. I hurried to the source of her voice, I passed two corridors to each side, I kept going straight and arrived at a huge, professional kitchen, the fridge was huge, and the induction cooker looked completely unused or very well kept, there was a high dining table in the middle of the room, with high stools, which reminded me of the ones from the club. At the furthest side, there was a baby chair. There was a half open bottle of wine on the middle of the table, and a dirty glass right next to it. I thought Chloe said she didn’t drink. A few dishes were piled up next to the sink, it had a faint food smell like the kitchen hadn’t been aired in a while. There were a few boxes from what seemed to be takeout piled in the trash and there were a few family pictures hung on the walls. Nice place. ‘Shiva, where are you? I’ve gotten lost in this small apartment of yours.’ I whispered into the corridor. She came from the corridor to the right carrying a little bag. ‘Oh, you found the kitchen, that works better than the bathroom. Sit on that chair would you?’ She hurried me back in, grabbing a stool and sitting next to me. She took the contents of the bag out, and methodically placed them on the counter. ‘This might sting.’ She cleaned the wound with some transparent liquid from a small bottle and some cotton. ‘It does sting like the devil.’ ‘Do you want to sit on the baby chair?’ She gave me a Mona Lisa smile. ‘Yes please.’ I could take a joke, even in this weird situation. She didn’t reply, her smile grew a bit wider before she started to study my cheek, she seemed worried. She gently tilted my head to the side and asked me to hold the position as she got way too close to my face; her rounded nose was close enough to be burrowing into my beard; her yellow eyes, centimetres from mine, not aware of my gaze; her chest was pressed against my arm. She seemed to be a lot more comfortable with this than I was. While trying not to think that this was the closest I had been with a woman that I hadn’t paid to strip for me in some time, I focused on one of the pictures hung on the wall. Shiva was wearing a full piece swimming suit, she was hugging a pale, blond, muscular man, they were on the beach and she was pregnant. ‘I’m so sorry Jack... I’ve done a good number on you, there are two cuts, almost parallel to each other.’ A few tears fell from her face into my beard. ‘Oh god, I’m sorry, I must look like a proper nut-job at the moment.’ She wiped the tears from my face and from hers with the back of her arm. ‘No worries...’ This was beyond awkward, I was still somewhat angry at this woman and I wasn’t quite sure that I had made the right decision following her there. She continued cleaning the wound, the cotton was turning reddish as she methodically and carefully pressed it against the cuts. ‘Okay, I’m going to need you to stay still. This is some very fine material and I don’t want it to snap.’ She grabbed the hook with something that looked like tweezers, the thread was barely visible to me. She spread my face with her fingers, now behind a silicone glove and she put the stitches down one by one. I decided to keep my pretty mouth shut and looked at the picture again. I noticed that there was a small boy climbing on her husband’s leg, holding onto his waist with both hands and wrapping his legs around him to push himself up, he had curly dark hair and his skin was a very light shade of brown. It was a lovely family picture. ‘Okay, we’re halfway through, you still there with me?’ She said. ‘Yea, just admiring your little monkey, he seems to have excellent taste in music. How old is he now?’ I pointed at the picture. ‘He’s seven.’ Shiva said, completely emotionless, focused on her work. ‘Pretty young to listen to Punk Rock isn’t him?’ I realised that was none of my business after those words came out of my mouth. ‘That’s his dad’s fault.’ She quickly stated, less neutral than she wanted to sound. ‘Sorry, I was thinking out loud. It’s no concern of mine.’ I did not want her to snap again. I pictured her choking me with the thread, very plausible indeed. ‘Don’t apologise, please... I’m almost done here.’ She tied another knot, but at the end, she dropped the tweezers, which ricocheted off the floor and went under the sink counter. ‘FUCK’ She shouted. ‘Shh!’ I tightened my whole body and pushed my open palms down in a “be quiet” gesture. ‘Jesus Christ, you’re going to wake your whole family.’ I was in no hurry to experience how wonderful it might be to explain this situation to her husband. ‘Shit, those things are slippery. I don’t have another pair, we’re going to have to get them from down there...’ ‘Seriously don’t worry about it, I’ll get the rest done at the hospital. God knows what’s down there, I don’t want to get the cut infected...’ This was getting weirder and weirder and I just wanted out of the house. This had been a really bad idea. ‘You’re right, I think Jonh keeps another pair in his nightstand.’ ‘No no, do not wake your husband up please.’ I pleaded anxiously. ‘He’s not here.’ She said in a neutral calmed tone. ‘Now shut it and wait till I’m back!’ A few minutes later I heard a loud noise. ‘Shiva?’ I whispered loudly into the corridor again. ‘I’m okay, I just fell down, wait there.’ I’ve never been the waiting kind, I headed to the source of the noise, to the left of the kitchen, and I saw her sitting on her side, in the dark, facing the door, patting her right thigh and looking in pain. I turned the lights on as I entered the room. ‘How did you fall?’ I offered my hand, she grabbed it and pulled herself up. ‘I must have tripped on something. Let’s get back to the kitchen.’ She seemed to want to get out of that room rather quickly, she was tight, nervous. I thought it was because of the fall, but then I actually looked at the room. I had not noticed the state it was in until that point. There were bottles everywhere, she had tripped on one of them for sure. There was no mattress on the bed, it must have been the one that I saw in the room with the cradle. The blinds were shut and there were two ashtrays sitting on one side of the bed, completely full of cigarette butts, everything else on them was glasses and mugs, some of them overflowing wish ash and more cigarettes. As I noticed this, the smell of home hit me: stale tobacco, marihuana, closed room and the sour-sweet smell from the dried alcohol in the bottles. The pictures in the room were taken off the walls and turned around and there were piles of books on both sides of the bed frame. ‘Seriously please, let’s get out of here, I got Jonh’s first aid kit right here.’ She waved the little purse in front of my eyes, capturing my attention. It was the same way a mother would wave some candy in front of their kids while saying ‘look what I got here’. By this time, Iw as already used to her forcefully playful and cheerful tone. Before she left, she opened the windows. We left the room without speaking at all, as she left, she closed the door behind her. I sat down in my stool, rested my hands on my lap, and she started working on me again. We remained in silence for a few minutes, this allowed me to unpack the night a bit. I thought about my own demons, and how much they might look like hers. She looked calm and serene while she dug into my skin with that hook. By the few last stitches, I was no longer angry. ‘He left with the kids right?’ I said as I looked her in the eye. ‘Yes.’ She tied another stitch and wiped her first tear away. \ If you've reached this far, thank you for taking the time to have a read. I really appreciate any feedback. English isn't my first language, so if I've gotten anything wrong: do let me know. Once again, thanks.