Thirteen people in a bar. Sunset passed not too long ago; light fading, sky darkening.
The bartender wipes down the counter, stoically eavesdropping on the trio perched on stools. A party of five are seated in the largest booth. They are young, the bartender thinks at least one of them is underage, and playing some inane drinking game.
One customer, leaning indolently against the wall, has already had four drinks. She has only paid for one–the others were bought for her by the three guys trying to show off at darts. The two trying their hardest are not very good, the one who doesn’t care has hit bull’s-eye consistently.
The bartender is keeping an eye on her, making sure to put the drink directly in front of her. It seems to put her at ease, irritated instead of fearful at the situation.
A chorus of yells erupts from the booth, four of the kids raising their empty steins while the fifth stares morosely at his own partially filled one.
The patrons at the bar, on hour two of nursing their first drink each, continue their baffling conversation.
“Why don’t you just give in?” Says the one on the left, wildly tousling her short dark hair.
“Why don’t you take a hint?” Responds the one in the middle, softly tapping his tan fingers on the wood of the counter.
“Have you found any clues?” Adds the one on the right, teeth gleaming in the low light.
“Have you lost your mind?” Says the one on the left, bringing the conversation back into a circle.
It’s a code of some sort, obviously. There’s not enough to decode it, and so the bartender doesn’t try, but it’s interesting all the same.
The boy from the party of five, the one who presumably lost, leans up against the bar and signals the bartender. With a minute eye roll, the bartender tends the bar.
The kid flushes nervously, licking his lips and fiddling with the cuffs of his sweatshirt with the local college’s logo on it. He asks for something, but his voice is too soft for the bartender to hear.
“What was that?”
They both lean in closer.
It is at that point when everything goes to hell.
~
A/N: I need to work on being more descriptive… And still no use of the actual word prompt.
JackSGreyson Says 