What A Figure!

The night deepened with Mark continuing to talk with the brunette.

Before he knew it, the tantalizing woman had already drank a plethora of glasses while he was retelling his current situation with the gangs- this time in greater detail.

They both smiled, happiness lining their faces under the mellow lighting of the bar. The room had long been filled with many parties who now relaxed and enjoyed theirselves, whether alone or with others.

A joyous mood lingered throughout the wooden establishment. The sight widened Mark's smile.

Cielo looked around the room with a curious gaze.

"You really are suited for this line of work. It always seems like a party whenever I come in here. Almost as if the bar attracts me…"

She took a sip from her sparkling glass.

"Or maybe it's just you."

With a wink, the brunette drained the rest of her glass with a slight blush on her face.

'She's already too far gone.'

Shaking his head, Mark took the emptied glass and lightly tapped it on her head.

"The alcohol is what makes your twisted mind aroused."

While putting more money on the table, she looked up at him with a raised brow.

"Who's mind is twisted?"

Mark took the money and picked up the bottle of champagne, refilling the glass before returning it to her.

"Yours."

He dangled the sparkling glass right above the brunette. Her impaired mind showed its effects as she amusingly struggled to grasp the drink.

"Cut the crap. We both know it's you who does all the messed up stuff… give me the glass already!"

The bartender laughed while settling the champagne on the bar.

A light tapping caught his attention.

A bit to the right, a man who seemed just around Mark's age sat comfortably on a stool.

He had red eyes and jet black hair. Though casually dressed, Mark felt an authoritative vibe from him- the same feeling Royce gives off.

The man felt like a leader, a boss in particular.

"A bottle of red wine, if you please."

Mark smiled brilliantly while trying to keep his expression stable over a tide of annoyance.

He felt slightly envious of the brunette who was simply frowning at the unwanted interloper.

Nevertheless, he had a job to do.

"Of course! Here are the prices."

He handed over the menu, slightly surprised to see it modified once more. Then, while the uninvited man read the prices, Mark turned back to the brunette.

Yet he found it hard to start up a conversation in front of the authoritative man. It was as if the figure had become an insufferable noise- not allowing any conversation.

So he waited for the red-eyed man to finish.

While doing that, Mark reached out with his mind and amplified the sensation of unwelcomeness in the newcomer.

After a long look, the man regarded the bartender with his brows furrowed.

"Are you scamming me? These prices are too high."

Mark stopped wiping the glass he held.

As much as he wanted to say 'deal with it' and move on, he had his livelihood at stake.

Besides, situations like this will become more common as time goes on. At least, for the time that prices continue to increase.

"I'm deeply sorry, but that is the lowest we can afford to go at the moment. Please bear with it."

The words felt cold while they left Mark's mouth, as if uttering them put him at risk.

But to the bartender's subtle relief, the man nodded in understanding before getting up.

"That's truly a shame."

While walking to the door, the figure turned around and focused his red-eyes on the two with a profound glint before smiling.

"Cherish the things you have. Who knows what could happen in the future?"

Then he left.

Mark looked at the brunette, clarity burned in her eyes despite the many drinks she had downed.

She looked back at him with a subtle undertone- to let her enjoy the rest of the champagne before anything else.

A silent understanding resonated between the two.

With that, they resumed the roles of bartender and patron. The former wiped the glasses while the latter drank from them, both doing so in the silent warmth of each other's company.

…

Before leaving, Mark went into the kitchen.

"Royce, I'll be leaving now."

The old man looked up.

"Wait! I need you for a second. Come and try this."

The bartender nodded and walked without dread. He just wanted to end the day and sleep.

Only now did he realize the tantalizingly rich aroma that wafted through the room.

On the counter, a creamy-white soup steamed with an alluring display. It seemed like the dish was finally complete.

He unhesitatingly took a spoonful and was met with an outstanding surprise.

Royce seemed to have perfectly balanced the various spices with the creaminess of the bisque. A subtle shrimp flavor served as a foundation for the dish- but it didn't seem as fresh as the previous time.

Still, it was great overall and could definitely be served.

"I'm not as good as a taster as you are, but I think that this will work… how about we get a third opinion?"

Royce scratched his bearded chin before nodding.

"Go ahead."

Mark grabbed the bisque and left the kitchen. He placed it before the brunette. The woman was clutching her head on the wooden bar.

"Eat something. Maybe it will do something to alleviate your pain, and hopefully your stupidity too."

She picked up the spoon.

"Shaddap."

The bisque seemed to warm her up as she suddenly sat straight and tried to analyze the creamy dish. But the alcohol quickly caught up and dragged her back onto the table, clutching her head in pain.

Mark wasn't exactly sure what to say.

"Was it good- I mean are you okay?"

The brunette lightly chuckled.

"Yes, no. Get your priorities straight."

Seems she was slightly better than the last time. Still unable to do anything though.

"Alright, I'll take you home."

He grabbed her arm and slung it around his back. She leaned closer, probably trying to get more balance and support. Her silky-caramel hair brushed against his cheek.

Mark turned around, giving one last glance to the kitchen door.

"I'll be going now!"

Nobody came out but a deep voice boomed throughout the establishment shortly after.

"Take care of yourselves!"

The two then walked into the chilling night with warmth only in each other. They clung close while traversing the streets.

Lights faded while the moon became increasingly more apparent in its ascent- now almost reaching the edge of the foggy barrier.

While the silence was comforting at first, it slowly grew heavier as their journey deepened.

Mark wasn't willing to be suffocated by the soundless night.

But first, there was something he needed to do.

"What was I supposed to call you again?"

The brunette looked back at him.

"You're seriously asking that instead of addressing the elephant in the room?"

Mark shrugged with his free shoulder.

"What elephant? I don't see any. Are you having drunk hallucinations?"

She sighed and simply hit the back of Mark's head.

"You know what I mean. Also I think it was… Celia."

'Definitely not.'

It was weird. He didn't know what her name was, but he could still tell what it wasn't.

They continued to walk, but Mark found that his patience was quite thin.

He shook the arm he held to get her attention.

"Do you know that guy who came in? You were giving him a terribly menacing stare."

Celia shook her head, flowing brown hair brushed across Mark's face.

"Nope, what about you?"

He plucked the silky brown strands from his sight.

"Not at all…"

'What an interesting fellow.'

Thinking back, the red-eyes man seemed like a far-off acquaintance that came to hang out- only at the utterly wrong time. Other than that, he seemed calm and collected, reliable too. The only weird thing was how he seemed so authoritative- like a boss.

But that could have simply been picked up from work habits. After all, Royce used to seem the same way before Mark became closer to the old man.

He peered into the peach-pearls that seemed indescribably close to him.

"But really, what about him made you act so anxious? You usually don't get this pent up."

'Even when you should be.'

Celia held his gaze.

"You didn't notice at all?"

Mark tilted his head.

"Notice what?"

He felt his arm get lightly gripped by her hand.

"That man… isn't a good person. No, he seems utterly depraved. You should try to avoid him as much as possible in the future."

Mark was taken aback. She viewed the red-eyes man in a totally different light. Their opinions were nearly the opposite of each other?

"And what makes you say that?"

Celia looked up, seemingly trying to find something that wasn't there.

"I don't know… it's just a feeling I get."

The young man went silent.

'Didn't her father say that she had a good intuition about these things? Might as well listen to them.'

He looked at her flawless face. It was so close, yet something made it feel so far.

"If you say so."

Celia nodded and patted his arm.

"Though, there is one thing the man said that I can agree with."

Mark was caught off guard, almost tripping.

"What?"

A smile was plastered onto her face.

"Those alcohol prices are waaaaay too high!"