Out of Control

It was dim inside the tavern. The bartender smoked behind the bar. The smell was pungent. Under the faint light, he looked down at Charles who was sitting outside the bar. The light illuminated his bald head, casting a shadow under his brow bone. His expression was hard to see.

Crash! A fist-sized glass was slammed down before Charles. He jumped at the loud sound. The liquor sloshed, almost splashing onto his collar.

While he was freaked out, the bartender pushed the glass over expressionlessly. He bent down and said, "Shall we drink?" Beside him was a bottle with the label scraped off. Charles froze and looked back. He saw a few men in the corner staring at him coldly. Gulping, he looked up for help. However, there was nothing upstairs save for muffled arguments.

"What?" the bartender asked. "Don't like it?"

"Uh…" Charles plastered on a smile. He was not stupid enough to say that he did not like drinking.