I didn't know where I was heading. I was just so mad and aggravated at the thought of him being gone. It just sits on my mind like a bird perched on a tree branch, and I hate it. I hate it because it is this constant reminder that I am alone and no person is ever going to change the way the events of my life have turned out. My outputs are not the same as my inputs anymore, and I know I can't change that.

Before I know it, I am in the parking lot of a bar. The buzzed lights that say 'Coors Light' on the outside show that it is open, and I just.. Fuck it.

I open my door, locking my car and jogging to the door. I huff and walk in, seeing a few men and women on the makeshift dance floor, cowboy hats lamely hang on their strings from nails dug into the walls, a jukebox shamelessly sits at the corner of the dance floor. Some old country song is playing, and I roll my eyes, seeing an open seat next to some low life with tattoos and long, curly hair. I strip my jacket off, setting it on my lap as I sit down, the guy looking at me.

A bar tender walks over to me, asking me what I want.

"What'll it be?"

"Whiskey. Straight. on rocks. Thanks." I nod my head, as does she, and disappears behind the counter to pour my drink. I look around at the musty old place. It smells like old alcohol, stale, old alcohol at that. An old couple is dancing to another song, and some girl is buying sex off of a guy sitting at a table.

The bar tender brings my drink to me, and then leaves. I take a sip, and the burn feels absolutely amazing. The guy next to me speaks.

"What the hell you in 'ere for?" His speech is slurred a bit, not too bad. He isn't drunk, but tipsy.

"Nothing. Parental issues. None of your damn business." I snap and take a drink again, turning my attention to the glass doors.

"Well damn, newbie. I just asked. Jesus. I'm Harry, nice to meet you." He laughs and takes a drink of his beer, laughing while he does it.

"Michael. I'm in here because I am having issues and this bar seemed legit so.. I thought why not." I look at him, my lips pressed into a solid line.

"I'm in here because this is my only home." He sighs and I raise and eyebrow at him, conveying that I was clearly confused.

"I live upstairs. My dad owns this pub, and its a shitty one, let me tell you. I come in here at least twice a day, since you know I live here. I basically own this place because my dad doesn't even know this place is still up and running." His lips are forming into a slight smirk, and raise both of my eyebrows, nodding my head.

"Okay then.. So you're basically an alcoholic then?" I then smile, making sure that I made a good comeback.

"Fuck no. I only drink when I feel like shit or when I haven't been laid in a while." He chuckles and raises his glass. "See?"

I laugh lightly and look down at my whiskey. "How old are you, kid?"

"Oh, I'm 21. Dad just died, mom is a psychopath, etc. Kind of a boring life, you know?" I smile and look up from my drink.

"I thought it was 'none of my damn business'?" He moves his fingers up and down to mock me.

"Yeah well, I guess this alcohol is pretty damn good in order for me to open up to anyone. How old are you?"

"I'm 24. Y'know, living the extreme twenty year olds' life." He smiles. "I moved out on my own at 17." I nod at his response and take another sip from my drink.

"You realize you've been in here for like, an hour or two right?" He looks serious now, his green eyes now a dark black.

"Shit, no. Thanks. I'll see you around, you bastard." I laugh and leave my tip on the counter as he raises his glass at the remark, laughing.

"Come back and see me, newbie! I don't have a whole lot of friends!" He burps, still a bit bubbly.

"I'll try. Cock sucker!" I laugh and close the door, unlocking my car and climbing in, driving home.

*A few hours later*

"Michael! Where the hell is my fucking saucepan!" Yelling, I run downstairs and point.

"It is in the goddamned dishwasher. Open your fucking eyes and you would see that, you bloody idiot." I growl and go upstairs, my mother following me.

"Do not speak to me like that, young man. I am your mother!" She screams up the stairs. Who the hell is this, and what did they do with Renee Clifford?

"Oh, go to hell." I roll my eyes and slam my door.

"I want you out of my house! Now!" I stop dead in my tracks.

"What did you just say?" I open my door.

"You fucking heard me. Get. Out. Now." She is gritting her teeth, speaking through them. "You are nothing to me anymore. You constantly get on my last nerve and you are a fucking bother. I want you out of my house. Get your shit and leave." I look at her with a scowl.

"Fine." I go into my room and grab a suitcase, packing all of the stuff I could and grabbing my keys, running out the door and unlocking my car. I throw my suitcase in the back and I drive off, going to the only place I knew.

The buzzed lights shone through the dark and I saw the 'Coors Light' sign on the wall outside, and a light was turned on in the apartment upstairs. I went through the bar and ignored the woman telling me that it was not permitted for me to enter up there.

"Go to hell." I seethe and walk up the winding metal staircase, knocking on the door.

I knock harder and harder, calling out the persons name until the door opened.

"Newbie. What a surprise."

Notes

HERE IS THE NEW CHAPTER. I THINK THIS ONE IS MY FAVOURITE SO FAR. HOLY SHIT KILLJOYS.

d y i n g .

All righty, well enjoy this chapter, and tell me what you guys think. I hope you love it as much as I do.

Peace, love, and John Lennon.

g r a c e e x x