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Careless Whisper
Written by Moerae
Damn! Why is the music so loud tonight? Those damn bastards! Are they trying to kill me by blasting my ears or something? Is it about time for me to find a new club? This place is getting so boring now. Same old faces… same old stories, aren't those idiots tired of them yet? I tug down the hem of my leather skirt, irritated with the whole world in general. I swear tonight is the last night I ever come to this place.
"Mike!" I call out my bartender friend's English name to catch his attention. He is busily serving his customer's drink. "What do you want?" He leans over, handing me my usual drink.
"Make it stronger, would ya Mike?" He gives me a scolding glare. In return, I flash him one of my sweetest smiles, and he eventually relents.
"I thought you were going to look for another place. No luck?" I absently nod as I sip my drink.
"I will… eventually. I just missed you, that's all. Anything new?" I survey the room as always, and once again I am disappointed that I can't find anyone interesting to distract me for a little while. Truly this is not my day.
"Uh yeah. While you were gone, a new face showed up. Quite a looker actually. It's about time he shows up, but then I don't think anyone was ever successful in approaching him. Not even a simple dance. Wanna try?" Mike gives a quick glance to a dark corner of the bar and gives me a curt nod to indicated that the new guy is indeed here tonight. I take a quick glance to the side, and the first thing that catches my attention is his blood red, crimson hair. It looks as if it is dyed in blood. Not to mention he got one hell of a pair of eyes. They're damn gorgeous, brightly glowing under the dim light. He is pretty, kinda looks like a girl, but at a second glance, he doesn't look like one at all. He is one damn pretty boy nonetheless. But what the hell is he doing in a place like this? Alone at that?
"He is good-looking, that's for sure. Let's hope that he is as interesting as he looks, ne?" Mike shakes his head in resignation and hands me another glass of tonic. "You are so masochistic."
"Of course, you know me so well. Thanks for the drink, Mike." I give Mike a quick kiss on his smooth cheek, pay for my drink and casually walk toward him. He doesn't even lift his eyes as I take a stool beside him.
"Would you mind if I sit here?" I smile sweetly. but he ignores me, as if I don't even exist, and keeps his green eyes on his drink. 'Fine. You want to play that game, then I'll play it.' I carefully lift some of his long crimson strands and feel them between my fingers. They're so soft. "Your hair is beautiful, how long did it take… what the hell?" I jump back off my stool as he lifts his eyes and glares at me. Those eyes held such hatred that I unconsciously begin to back away from him.
"Don't touch me. Once more and I'll kill you." He bitterly spits out every syllable, but then his eyes soften a little as he realizes that I meant no harm. His eyes look guilty for a second, before he turns back to his drink and continues to sip it like water, as if nothing had happened.
Interesting…. Call me suicidal, but his reaction instantly catches my fancy. I slowly walk back to my empty stool and quietly sip away my drink as well. He glares at me, as if I'm crazy… but then I ignore it blissfully. I have to be going insane, but then I've got nothing to lose anyway, so why not?
"What are you doing here? I thought I made myself rather clear that I do not want company." I shrug in response.
"There is no law stating that I can't sit wherever I want to. And for your information, this place is not yours. I can sit wherever I want, and I want to sit here." I glare back at him.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, my curiosity got the better of me. "Why the hell were you so mad? I was just complimenting your hair." I was almost ready to give up when he opened his mouth to answer.
"Sorry. It's just reminds me of something
I don't want to remember. And I'm going to cut it anyway…."
"What for? It's beautiful like that.
It would be a total waste if you did that. Broken up with your girlfriend?
What an unlucky girl. Throwing away someone as gorgeous as you."
I grin and take another sip. God, I think I will have one hell of
a hangover tomorrow morning, but then I can worry about it later.
"Yeah… something like that…." His green eyes now look like liquid emeralds, and they are simply mesmerizing. He doesn't even look like a human with such eyes.
"Hn. How old are you anyway? You don't look like the type who would come to this kind of place." The music has slowed down, and some soft old songs are being played. I sigh as those songs bring in memories that I am not that fond of….
"22…. You don't have to worry about me drinking if that's what you were thinking." He orders another drink and soon another cup is emptied.
"Is it for real?" I ask, and he looks at me as if he is confused. "What do you mean?"
I shrug nonchalantly. "Nobody gives out their real age or name in this place. I thought you might be one of them. You really haven't been to place like this, ne?" He was silent for minutes before he spoke again. "…Why do people do that? Hiding?"
"Some things are better left unsaid. They don't want to know the truth because more often than not, truth only causes pain. If you get too close, you get hurt. In a place like this, people just want to forget things like that for awhile. Even if you end up regretting what had happened when the effect of alcohol vanishes. Stupid, isn't it? But then isn't it just what you're doing? You are drinking an awful lot for a beginner. I guess it has to do with your girlfriend." Why the hell am I telling him all these idiotic thoughts of mine? Perhaps it's his eyes… eyes that remained cold and dead despite their seeming beauty.
"…He was my best friend. He died a few weeks ago…. I think… I loved him…." He shakes his head and sighs as if he can't believe what he's saying. "Oh, Inari. I'm pathetic! Why am I telling you this? Gotta be the alcohol, ne? I think I can finally understand why people drink this stupid stuff." He looks intently at the dark transparent liquid in his hands, as if he'll be able to find an answer to his questions.
"I would be a total hypocrite if I say that I am sorry, wouldn't it? After all I don't know him, or you, that well to feel such a thing. The least I can do is not lie to you or to myself tonight. …If you don't mind me asking, what was he like? I'm curious…." I slightly lean back and gaze at the ceiling. Dancing begins, and the room was filled with bright colors that made everything seem surreal. Somehow it fascinates me. It feels like I'm no longer bound by rules…. How ironic that the only time when I feel free is when I'm in a small dark room like this one.
"He was stubborn…. He was one hell of a cold bastard. He looked as if he never cared for anything, ready to destroy whatever was in his way…. I don't know why the hell I accepted him as a friend in the first place. I'm an idiot. I guess I'm paying for my stupidity now…. Even though he was one of the strongest people I had ever known, both physically and emotionally, he was probably one of the weakest as well. Maybe I wanted to protect him. Or perhaps… I was lonely…. This alcohol thing is so strange. I barely know you, and I'm telling you everything. You must think I'm crazy, ne?"
"…Iie. We probably won't even meet again so it doesn't matter. Alcohol, night, music… everything is set to lower our inhibitions. During day, we hide, afraid to show anything to even our closest family and friends. But at night, you feel like grabbing the person nearest you and telling that person whatever is on your mind. I've done it before… everybody is doing it. What stupid idiots we are, ne? We hide our identity to the world, such as names, ages, our appearance; everything that has nothing to do with who we really are. But on the other hand, we're ready to tell anyone anything, even our deepest secrets. In the morning, we wake up, regret, and blame it on alcohol, and then we swear we will never do it again. But the next night, you're ready to do same thing over again." I glance back at the crowd on the dancing floor. They look like they don't have a care in the world; they look like they're enjoying every moment of it, but then their smiles look so fake, their laughter so hollow and meaningless. What's behind the make-up? A trail of tears…?
"You sound like you have done it a lot before…." He trails off, but then I know what he meant.
"Hai. I am not proud of it, but I have done it often. As Mike said, I must be a masochist or something. I always regret it, get hurt, but I'm doing it again as usual. …Did he love you?" I take out a little band from my handbag and begin to tie my hair back. It's so damn hot in here. But it's better than being stuck in cold room. At least this heat tells me that I am not alone.
"…I think so. He never said anything… but then he trusted me. And for me, it was enough…." I give him one of my rarely seen genuine smiles at his hesitant words. You're lucky… but you just don't realize that yet….
"Consider yourself lucky. At least you had his complete trust, right? He probably loved you… and you should treasure it. In this fuckin' world, such things as trust is rarer and more precious than any rarefied jewel. People cease to care anymore. You had one person's complete trust. I think that's the same thing as having that person's heart. Just remember the single fact... he had trusted you. If I were you, I wouldn't be drinking like this, as if I'm bent on killing myself. If I had such knowledge, I wouldn't want to disappoint that person who had given me such a treasure…."
I close my eyes…. I know I should take my own advice… but I don't have anything. He had something… he just didn't realize it. I wish… I would meet someone who would make me realize that I am worth something.
"Thank you…. By the way… I'm…." I stop him before he can say anything further and secretly rejoice that his eyes don't look as dead as before. Even if I can't help myself… I guess I have done something worthwhile for once.
"Don't say anything. As I said before some things in this world are best left unsaid. I'm glad I was able to help you, and for that you can pay for my drink. That will be enough." I glance back towards the dancing floor. The music playing is slow… and sad. "I feel like dancing. Want to join me?" He shakes his head in polite refusal. "Oh well. Then I guess it's good bye…. Thanks for the drink." I move towards the dancing floor not sparing a second glance to the boy with the hauntingly beautiful green eyes. As I step onto the smooth platform, I just close my eyes and let my body move in a familiar rhythm. It's oddly comforting….
I feel so unsure
As I take your hand and lead you to the dance
floor
As the music dies
Something in your eyes
Calls to mind the silver screen
And all its sad good-byes
I'm never gonna dance again
Guilty feet have got no rhythm
Though it's easy to pretend
I know you're not a fool
Should've known better than to cheat a friend
And waste the chance that I've been given
So I'm never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you
Time can never mend
The careless whispers of a good friend
To the heart and mind
Ignorance is kind
There's no comfort in the truth
Pain is all you'll find
Never without your love
Tonight the music seems so loud
I wish that we could lose this crowd
Maybe it's better this way
We'd hurt each other with the things we'd
want to say
We could have been so good together
We could have lived this dance forever
But no one's gonna dance with me
Please stay
Now that you're gone
Now that you're gone
What I did is so wrong
That you had to leave me alone
Yes…. I guess this is the way it's supposed to be. Expect nothing, want nothing, trust nothing, and move on as if nothing really matters. That's how I live… but I hope that this boy, who has such pain and sorrow in his eyes, finds a different path. I suppose I'll never meet him again. Maybe he'll forget everything I said and come back to this place again. But remember one thing. This path is… so lonely, boy. Don't ever follow my footsteps. Never….
p.s. If you're wondering why bartender's name is English when it's supposed to take place in Japan, well... a friend of mine said some clubs in Asia makes employees choose English name. Don't ask me why since I have no idea.
