((OOc:: pardon the delay. I went on my lunch break.))<br/><br/>The glitz of the city took no time to thrust its shine upon her lightly freckled nose. She couldn't stand the time wasted in traffic, no matter how light, which is why she preferred riding Deackin around. But he still had a sore healing, thus rendering her to walk. She sighed with just a few minutes in traffic, eager to park. Just on the edge of downtown, she was finally able to pull her crusted jeep into a spot. She looked at the meter which still had several hours on it - to her pleasure. She simply shrugged and moved along. Her dark, mahogany "Twisted X" boots barely thumped against the concrete, even while mostly hidden below her slick, boot cute denim. To no one's surprise, they were tattered and worn, more so up the sides than the knees, yet still impressively dark considering the fade. They sat perfectly on her hips without a belt, showing just enough of her sculpted abs. Her solid crimson "cowgirl shirt" was tied at her stomach, holding loose at her waist, but moving just a bit with her steps. If someone was looking just close enough, they could spot the bottom of her tattoo.<br/>Her hands were shoved comfortably in her pockets, taking a nice stroll with no cares. She saw a few familiar faces, none that would pay her any mind. It was sure they had many other pressing things and people they cared more for. Making friends certainly wasn't her strong suit, but she couldn't force herself to be anything but who she was.<br/>After her lengthy walk, she finally came upon the automatic doors of the grocery store. This place never ceased to throw her for a loop. Despite how often she came, it was always such a maze. A simple basket and the list she produced, from her back pocket - tucked beneath the slim-flip cell phone - and she was on her way. Wandering back and forth, looking up and down, it took longer than she would have liked, but there was no reason to be in a hurry. Just a little over an hour. Before departing, she visited<span style="font-style: italic">her</span>favorite section - the Natural Foods. Scotch never had much of a preference, but she always noticed a bit of a difference when she ate unhealthy. As she double checked a few ingredients, she finally topped off her overflowing basket and made her way to the checkout. Another wait lifted her eyes, but this person seemed proficient enough.<br/>"Paper or plastic?"<br/>"Paper, please." she smiled.<br/>'High tech.' she thought and he pulled the handles up. This made things much more convenient, keeping her from having to trek all the way back the jeep. Even with the handle, she still carried one in her arms, rather traditionally. As she came upon her final stop, she grinned a bit, also realizing how the dark was threatening to set in as she glanced at the sign.<br/>"Liam's Liquor Hole." The royal blue shimmer lit up, even in the dim light, almost as much so as the neon OPEN sign in the window.<br/>Upon stepping in, she set her bags down on the floor, tucked away behind the second door. Walking straight up to the bar, she leaned in and smiled.<br/>"Johnnie Walker Green, please."<br/>The bartender smiled at her, his perk barely seen through his thick, black beard, hands busy polishing a glass. She must have just beaten the rush that was about to ensue if he had time for mindless cleaning.<br/>"Don't you get that crap anywhere else?" he chuckled.<br/>"I could," she smiled, "but you always sell it to me for a much better price." she whispered with a wink.<br/>He stared for a moment, as he always did when he long, naked lashes caught the hints of dim light. However, though he enjoyed their games and banters, the fun on his face quickly melted.<br/>"Tequilla, I can't sell to you anymore." He said looking over his shoulder.<br/>"Jacob-"<br/>"That ruckus you cause the other night pissed off some major high up and I've been told to reject you."<br/>"Come on, it wasn't that big of a deal."<br/>"Apparently it was." he said brows raised. "Look," he leaned over, tucking the over clean glass under the bar and looking up at her, "I work over at the club on Taylor street on the weekends. Come see me over their."<br/>"Jacob, I don't do clubs, you know that. Do I have to write some letter of apology or somethin'? I like this place."<br/>"Just give it a couple weeks and things may blow over. Come back then and we can see what happens." He leaned over even more, the entirety of his forearm flush with the bar as his opposite hand sliced through the air, "Do not tell anyone. I like my job."<br/>"I know. Can I at least get my bottle from you this last time before I go?"<br/>He curled his bottom lip up, looking at their shelf and back to her before reaching for an unopened bottle. She slapped a $50 bill on the bar which he swiped. She took her bottle and turned away. Though she was good at thickening her skin, she couldn't ebb away the hurt. It wasn't personal, she knew, but it was still something she wished she'd thought about - for once. She knew how many "I told you so's" she was going to hear for this one.<br/>As she tucked the bottle in one of her previous bags, she collected them in her arms and made her way for the door. Pushing it open with her back, she paused at the touch of someone, quickly stepping out of the way.<br/>"Sorry about that. Pardon me." she said.<br/>Walking down the street, she adjusted herself a couple times, thinking back and swearing the man she ran into had different coloured eyes.