One Night In A Bar
One Night In A Bar
Navin enters the Mystic Bar at 10 pm. This is not his usual bar, but he suddenly wanted to change. He goes every Friday night to a bar to drink, flirt, and dance sometimes, if he feels like it. It's his little moment of personal relaxation.
Navin is an employee. He works in a marketing company. He is 28 years old. He does not have a girlfriend and does not look for more than a shot of a night. Both parents are alive and well. He went to college in his city. He went to high school in his city. He went to the business school of the neighbouring city. He is brown-haired. He has brown eyes. He was born on April 18th. His favourite colour is red.
Navin is an ordinary man, satisfied with his present life.
The bar is already full. The music is good, the atmosphere is good. There are pretty girls and nice guys, each trying to seduce the other. The price of drinks seems affordable. This bar is perfect. He begins by ordering a drink. A tequila, please. He drinks his glass with a sharp blow. It's just an appetizer. Then he begins the tracking.
The girl in the back on the left? Blondes are not my thing. The one with the blue dress? She is constantly surrounded by her friends. And the one with the braid? We can see that she is already completely drunk. Maybe the one who just ordered a mojito? She has already rejected four guys; she clearly has not come for that. So, this one ...
It takes him a few minutes to find his first target. She is red, her freckles make her look charming. Her red dress marries beautifully well and is well worth its long legs. She is sitting with another girl, blonde, and another guy, charmed by the blonde. Yet the posture of the redhead suggests that she wants more than being the friend of the blonde. Leaning forward like that, revealing her generous chest with her pronounced cleavage.
She's beautiful. She is not blonde. She does not have an army surrounding her. She is sober. She is interested. He wants her in bed for tonight.
He orders a cocktail first. A little vodka, and a slice of lemon. He fixes it. He is waiting for the right moment. He sips his glass quietly. He is waiting. He's still fixing it. He's almost halfway through his glass when it happens.
She looks up. To leave the conversation, to go for a drink, to find someone, we do not know. We do not care. What matters to us is that their eyes finally cross. Two looks, one eye contact. Two passions, one message.
“I see you. I want you. “
Navin quickly finishes his drink. He orders two whiskeys. Then he goes to his table. A glass in each hand. She does not take her eyes off him. She bites the lips of anticipation unconsciously. Looks like she likes what she sees.
"I saw you from the bar. You looked very lonely, so I thought you'd need companionship. I also noticed that your glass was empty. I ordered you another one. Do not you mind if I sit down?
He plays her charming. The sentences are already ready, written in advance in his mind and repeated in his mind. You have to be nonchalant but interested, flirty but not invading, frank but not arrogant. The drag is an art. And Navin always had the soul of an artist.
"It's true that the seat next to me seemed empty ... And how could I refuse the company of a man who so kindly bought me a drink?
- All the pleasure is for me.
It looks like it's working. He sits next to her.
"Laura.
She reaches out. He takes it.
"Navin. He responds.
His hand is soft. She smells like cream. His grip is not too firm. As their hands move away, he cannot help but notice how his nails are lingering on his skin.
They speak. They drink. They laugh. They are dredging. It works. The keys are more persistent, the looks more languorous. A passion rises in the hollow of their belly. Their skin burns, their pupils dilate. His hand is resting on his thigh. She stays there. Then after the time has passed, the alcohol is absorbed and the patience is exhausted, she leans towards him and whispers in her ear.
She smells strongly of perfume.
She gets up. She goes to the toilet. His eyes invite him to follow her. He follows her.
Kissing the toilet was not part of his plan at first, but it's not his first time. It's fast, sloppy, impulsive and messy. But it feels good. In the end, they are both out of breath. He is sitting on the toilet; she is on his lap. She pulls up her panties, puts on her dress and finally puts on her shoes. She opens the cabinet door and then leaves. Navin does not follow her. He takes off just the condom and jets in the trash. He bends down to close the door. He's not putting on his pants.
He's still slouching there. He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and a lighter. He takes one. He watches the smoke rise to the ceiling and wonders absently if the toilet has a fire detector. The alarm does not ring, so he assumes no. He gets up from his position only when his cigarette comes to the end. He throws it into the bowl. He flushes the toilet. He gets dressed and goes out.
He does not know what time it is but the bar is much emptier than when he arrived. It is quiet. He sits at the bar. With a wave of the hand, he orders a drink. He does not even know what. He does not care. He is just thirsty. Even water would be good. He tells himself that he will finish his drink and then go home.
He enjoys calm. He enjoys the taste on his tongue. He takes advantage of the burn in his throat.
A person sits next to him. He does not pay attention to. Why should he? He continues to enjoy.
It's his voice that makes him turn his head.
"A gin, please.
His voice is clear, crystalline and melodious. It's a woman. But it looks like another type of woman. The redhead of earlier was also a woman, but her voice was that of a child. A capricious and rotten little girl who was looking for the passing love of a man. The voice that came to order is different. It's as if all the wisdom of the world flows into one sound, one tone. This person was a woman. A woman who had seen. Who had seen the good and the bad, who had crossed unexplored lands and climbed impassable mountains? This voice had spoken words of great cruelty but also great kindness.
Navin was fascinated by this voice. He does not know if it was the fault of alcohol, fatigue or sex, but this voice has spellbound.
Then he turns his head.
The woman standing next to him is ordinary. She is blonde. She does not wear a dress, just a sweatshirt, and jeans. She is less beautiful than the redhead. And he never really liked blondes. He knows a thousand and one ways to approach a woman, a thousand and one sentences engraved in his memory, all as clichéd as the others. But in front of her, he loses all these words, all his text. This is the first time in his life that he does not know what to say. So, he says that.
"Good evening. “
It's simple. Just a courtesy. No drag technique. No artifice. Just good evening. ". And that's enough.
She turns her head quickly. By her reaction, one can, first of all, believe that she is surprised. But his blue eyes say the opposite. It's like they know.
"Good evening. “
A smile is emerging on his lips. It's strangely sweet. Like a mother who looks at her child.
The seconds before his answer seem endless. He swallows.
"I have never seen you here before. You're from the corner?”
The words come out painfully from his throat. It's a nasty phrase, used too often in romantic movies. But that's all he can say. Maybe he tries to find his attitude of Don Juan? In vain.
"No. “
She says nothing more. He did not ask for more, so she said nothing more. The redhead had said more.
Navin continues.
"So, what brings you to this lost hole? You could have gone to any other bar in town and you chose this one. Why? “
He does not flirt anymore. He wonders if he has ever flirted with it. He has just noticed that he sees it. And then he really asks himself the question. Why? Why this bar? It is poorly located, which prevents good visibility from tourists, and then it is far from hotels. This bar is for regulars, connoisseurs. Even he only heard about it recently, and he lived in this city for 3 years. What is she doing here?
"Because I like music. “
The answer is simple but so complex at the same time. She likes music? It is true that it is not bad, but the music? Navin did not expect that. He does not understand.
And the woman's smirk suggests that she knows her confusion. That she did it on purpose.
"Music? “
She nods. This simple gesture is filled with wisdom and knowledge.
"I like to dance to good music. “
So, here's another surprise. She loves music, and now she loves to dance. “People who come here do not come to dance. They come to get drunk, to let off steam and maybe even get a good shot, but not “to dance. “The more the conversation goes on, the more this woman intrigues him. And the more she intrigues him, the more he becomes a player. And then his seductive side resurfaced. She likes to dance, ok. So, let's dance.
"If you like to dance ... Would you join me on the dance floor? “
He gets off his stool. The action is fluid. He wants to be sensual. But he remains a gentleman. Then, like a charming Prince not so charming, he holds out his palm to his princess. A smile a corner is added to perfect his character.
“Come with me. “
She does not seem to impress. She looks at the hand carefully, she gives the impression of hesitating, but her decision is made for a long time. It does not escape him, the lack of smile, maternal warmth in his eyes, and the disappointment mixed with disgust on his face. Navin's smile is losing its lustre.
"No thanks. “
She turns her back on him and goes back to her drink. Navin is a little embarrassed. He never really faced so many rejections in one night. He does not really know how to react.
He sits down. Keep drinking. It's silent. He casts a few furtive glances. They did not return to him. It was his last attempt. Navin can sometimes seem stubborn, even persistent, but he knows, unlike others, that no, it's no. He gives up. There are more looks, more smiles, more tension in the air. They are now only two people sitting side by side at the same bar. They have no connection; they have never spoken.
It's a bit sad. The silence. Resignation. Shoulders sagging. The spirit replaced by fatigue. The glass that is empty. The bar is almost empty.
Maybe that's the wounded puppy side, the melancholy of the scene, which makes him change his mind.
She sighs
"I'm waiting for someone. “
He is surprised. Maybe less than it should be. As if he were hoping for that reaction.
"It's not you. It's not that I do not find you pretty or not charming, but I'm waiting for someone.
She explains. She explains how to explain to a child. Maybe he's the child. He is too young in the face of the old age of his wisdom. She wants to console him.
He nods. He understands. She smiles and goes back to her glass. A smile of relief. A maternal smile. A beautiful smile. Navin wants to see his smile again. He wants to hear his voice again. See his wise eyes look at him, pierce him, know him better than himself. When she returns to her glass, the discussion should be over. The rejection was understood, and the child comforted. The night should continue like this, both side by side, in the calm of the bar. Two strangers. Navin does not want it to end.
"How long have you been waiting? “
The charm is back. It's no longer a question of flirting, flirting. For the first time in a long time, maybe just for the first time, Navin is curious. This is another form of play, but the goal is not the same. It is not a matter of seducing, but of knowing. Navin wants to know her. He wants to know her as he never wanted to know anyone. When he was in college, he did not even know in which class his girlfriend was. In high school, he did not know his favourite colour. Now he hardly remembers their name. His longest relationship lasted two months. Her name was Emily and she had a cat whose coat colour escapes her. He can hardly remember what she was doing in life.
Navin is not made to know people. He can know them, but only if he feels like it. And that desire has never been stronger than today.
"I was there before you. “
He does not even wonder how she knows when he arrived. The only thing he thinks is to watch the clock above the bottles. It is 4h. The bar closes in an hour. He arrived around 22h. It is, therefore, more than 6 hours she waits. It's been a long time since she's waiting. Who makes such a beautiful woman wait so long?
"More than 6h then? Well, this person must have a lot of value in your eyes. “
“Absolutely. She's really important to me. “
“She? So, I had no chance from the beginning? “he smirked.
“No, no. “
She smiled at the statement before taking a sip. Navin watches her drink. His smile becomes softer, less malicious. What woman is able to conquer her heart? What woman can be loved by her? What woman has the power to make her wait? What woman?
"How is she? “
His neighbour does not look at him, does not answer him. She fixes the bottles, one in particular, but he cannot really say which one. She is attracted by this bottle. Then his eyes become melancholy. His lips, dreamy. His air, sweet. She remembers.
"I do not think there are words to describe it. I have known her for a long time. Long time. Our meeting was predestined. I met her on a road, a summer night. I was alone. I went to get some food. And then ... I do not know if it's the heat, the exhaustion, or the thirst, but I collapsed there.
I just fell in his arms. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. She did not say a single word, and I was already under her spell. Her too. Perhaps our meeting was meant, but no one could have foreseen the feelings we felt for each other. That night we danced for the first time. There was no music, there was no light. Just us in the middle of the night, with only witnesses the moon and the stars. When the dance ended, we left each other on our side. But I knew I was going to see her again.
“How did you know? “
“Because it's always the same. When I leave her, I never know when or where, but I know I'll see her again. And then, when the time comes, I know. I cannot really explain it, it's like intuition, a light that lights up, a pressure in the air. And then she's here. “
“And you're sure she'll be here? It's been a long time since you wait. “
“She will be. “
Navin is not convinced, but there is this conviction, this unfailing certainty in his voice that prevents him from conveying his doubts. She lowers her head and looks at her glass. She has a bitter smile. She whispers in a breath.
"But I'm afraid it's our last dance. “
His voice is so low that Navin is not sure if he heard it. They frown. She looks up.
The bar is empty now. The bartender comes to them to tell them to go out. They know that. They continue to stare. They look at each other in the eye. As if they had a message to convey. Navin is the first to look away.
"Good. I think that's where we leave each other. “
Navin leaves his seat. He takes out his wallet and reaches out to pay, but money is already on the counter. He did not even notice she had moved. He questions her with a look.
"I enjoyed our little discussion. Even your flirting attempt was very flattering. Nice to have known you. “
“Me too. “
There is nothing else to say. So, he turns to leave. She does not move from her seat. His glass is not quite empty. Navin walks to the door, then stops right in front of her. He turns to the blonde woman.
The bartender is gone. There is no more music. They are left alone. It is soft. It's silent. It's peaceful. Like the look, they are exchanging.
"I still do not know your name. “
A few seconds pass. Visual contact is not broken for a moment. She pronounces it as a confession.
"Sara. “
She does not lie. She could have. She has already done it. But she's not lying.
"Bye Sara”
“Bye Navin”
He leaves the bar. He does not even wonder how she knows his name. He suspected she knew him.
He crossed the street. There is a bus stop on the other side. While he is in the middle of the street, he hears briefly the bar door closing. He does not pay attention. He continues to move forward. Without turning around. He is on the sidewalk, a few meters from the stop. The bus arrives in a few minutes. He still does not turn around. He does not pay attention to those around him. He does not see the sky changed colour. He does not smell the faint smell of cigarettes, nor the freshness of the morning on his skin. He does not hear the car coming at full speed, nor the loud music coming out of the vehicle. He barely notices that same car, passed right next to him and quickly turn around. He does not notice anything. He only does this when he hears the squealing of the tires and the sound of the impact. The sound guides him to the front of the bar.
In the distance, there is the car. She is on the sidewalk, at a standstill. She took a lamppost. That's what he notices first. The second thing he sees is a pile of people in the middle of the street, around a few things. Or someone.
Sara is lying in the middle of the street. She does not move. She does not breathe. There is a lot of blood. Navin is far away, but he already knows she's dead. He wants to rush to her. He takes the first step. And the morning rises.
Its light encompasses everything. Every house, every street, every person. She dazzles him. He closes his eyes for a moment, protects himself with his arm reflexively. Then after a while, they go back. It's like time has stopped.
Sara is still on the floor, yet she is up. She Looks like an angel. The light of the sun illuminating it, forming a halo. And that's where Navin sees her. A woman stands by her side. She's darker, and he's struggling to see her face because of the hood she's wearing. But she smiles. They both smile and hold hands. They love each other.
Then a shadow passes her. And they are not here anymore.
The bus arrives. Navin stays a few seconds to watch the scene and then goes inside. They leave.
Navin will never forget that night. He will never know if this night really happened. He will not try to find out. He will keep the secret, keep the story. For nearly 60 years, he will not say a word. On the day of his death, he will go to a bar, sit at the counter, and wait. Someone will come to talk to him. And he'll tell him tonight.
That night he met Sara, lover of death.