"Breaking News, an abnormally strong thunderstorm that had suddenly appeared over Seattle two days ago is still raging across the city. Officials are saying…"
Over a thick mahogany bar counter, the TV blasted its mundane routine. Going on about how the mysterious storm outside the pub. A mystery to everyone else, anyways. Nathaniel polished another shot glass from the depressed sap on the other end of the table. The same sap who's been sobbing about an ex-lover for the best hour or so. He'd lost count at this point.
"...And she had the nerve to blame me over this. Like I'M the one who cheated on her with an NBA player…"
"Did you?" He cooked an eyebrow. It surely would be a twist to this played out scenario.
"What? No! Of course not! She cheated on me, weren't you listening?"
'No, I wasn't.' Nathaniel thought to himself. It seemed like people tend to confuse bartenders with therapists, or Priests at a confessional. "Right, and what are you going to do about it?"
While he asked the question, his mind was on other things. He looked outside at the heavy downpour that coated the entire city in an aura of grey. The constant pitter-patter of raindrops soothed him, and the occasional lightning strikes that neared the pun filled him with a sense of power.
It helped him drown out the sorrows of other people. And let him deal with fewer customers.
The signature ring of the front door frame's bell, taking him out of his storm-brought trance as a couple in long coats, neither having an umbrella, came walking into the bar taking a seat next to the sad guy. This meant he didn't have to walk all the way to the other side of the 20 foot counter to get an order.
The couple who walked in consisted of a man and a woman. The man, potentially an Asian-American in his twenties, began to shift into his pockets. Which was never really a good sign. While the woman, Latina, began to talk to the sad guy, coaxing him
There wasn't anything wrong with the scene, not yet. So he turned to the new customers with one question in mind.
"What do you two want to drink?"
The woman answered first. "Strawberry Wine, please. No ice"
Not really unusual.
Then her accomplices answered,"Whatever this guy's having."
After the orders were placed, he turned to the arsenal of brews and beverages behind him. Enough glass bottles and alcohol to make a glass factory feel insecure. Then, he heard the slightest noise of something hitting a liquid, a drug most likely.
The strawberry wine was further down the shelves of drinks, as most of his customers don't ask for it. Seeing as most of his customers are men with some brooding personality, the bright pinkish-red drink probably wouldn't mix well with their macho.
After grabbing the glass bottle, he glanced a bit over his shoulder to look at the trio. The two men were just chatting just fine, the woman however seemed to have her hand hovering. over the sobber's drink.
Nathaniel came back with the drinks, his steps as steady as ever. "Here's the drinks. You two ordered. Michael...you don't seem so well."
The drunk crier babbled, his words slurring."Micheal? Who the he- *hic* is it Michael? I'm Raijin-" The man collapsed in a heap of drunkenness, tears and potentially being drugged.
As if on cue, the two couples stood up. "Well, we should probably get going. And probably take him so we can drop him off at his home."
Nathaniel didn't answer, simply nodded as the two people carried the unconscious man into the heavy rain. Only for the two of them to be met with two unusual precise bolts of lightning from the storm. His storm.
From within a humble bar, a lone bartender holds the power to bring a city to a standstill.
(Open To All)
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