Bar Scuffles
ROBERT
“A refill?” The bartender asked as I held up my empty glass, and I curtly nodded.
Taking a sip of the burning liquid, I grimaced at the bitter aftertaste, then returned my gaze to my phone on the bar’s countertop. I sat and stared at the picture of Renee displayed on the screen.
In this photo, she was asleep on my hotel bed, her mouth slightly open and her strawberry blonde hair messy and scattered on the sheets.
Her long lashes cast shadows across her delicate cheeks, giving her a soft and fragile appearance. Dammit, but she was so beautiful. The most gorgeous sight I’d ever seen and one I’d never get tired of looking at.
Flipping through my photos, I found another picture of her. One I’d taken while she was standing on the balcony of our new mansion.
With her arms outstretched, her dress fluttering against the wind, and the fabric dancing wildly before settling back into place. She looked so happy and at peace that, for a moment, my heart clenched.
Her eyes were closed, but adoration and joy were written all over her face. I’d done well, unknowingly capturing this beautiful moment.
“God…” I muttered as my fingers flickered through the screen, scrolling past photos of her, each more stunning than the last.
There were so many, and each one caused me more pain than the last, bringing tears to my eyes.
My heart hurt, and it wasn’t because of the alcohol in my veins. Seeing Renee reminded me of how much I’d hurt her and messed things up.
It’d been two days since I’d shown up on her doorstep and demanded to see her. I couldn’t stop thinking.
As I tightly gripped the whiskey glass, I couldn’t seem to relax into a comfortable stupor. Because no! The memories of that day were still too fresh.
My mind kept going over everything that’d happened. From her rejection to her hurtful words, which I deserved, and the look of pain in her eyes. Damn! I’d hurt her so badly.
So badly that she was willing to throw away everything we had. Everything we’d built together.
“Fuck! Fuck!” I cursed as I chugged the last remnants of my drink, wincing at the burn in my throat.
I was in shambles. Both literally and metaphorically.
I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t think straight. God! I felt terrible. And the worst part was that I deserved it.
Everything happening to my drunken depressed ass right now was entirely my fault, and I deserved each ounce of pain and suffering.
Apart from my personal life, what about my business? Oh, I was stalling work. I’d been getting dozens of reports here and there, calls and meeting appointments that I’d ignored in the last few days. My stocks were plummeting drastically, but I didn’t care.
Maybe next week, I’d get myself together and focus on business, but I wanted to get lost in this haze for now.
This haze which-
“Some vodka and whiskey shots, please.” My head shot up. The owner of the smooth voice bedside me broke through my spiraling thoughts.
Looking to my left, I froze. The owner of that familiar voice was my son.
“Dylan.” I croaked as I stared at him, unable to figure out what he was doing there.
He wasn’t alone. He was with some men, most likely his friends.
Why was he here? Of all the days I’d chosen to come to this damn bar, he’d shown up. What a strange coincidence. I scoffed to myself.
“Dylan?” I called out again, this time louder, and he finally responded.
He gasped and tilted his head. His gaze narrowed on me, and he staggered slightly, obviously in disbelief at seeing me.
Silence fell around us, broken only by clinks and the splash of drinks poured into glasses.
Dylan stood motionless, his blue eyes fixed on me as if he was having an internal struggle with himself, and as for me… My rage was boiling over.
Since this was the first time I’d seen him since the masked ball party, my temper was frayed, and I reflected on everything he and his mother had done to me.
Then I thought about him being Renee’s cheating ex-boyfriend. Him leaking word of their relationship to the press for money, obviously, and…
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.” Dylan said sarcastically, breaking the tense silence engulfing us.
“I’d like to-”Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.
He cut me off and and spoke again, this time to his friends.” Guys, please take some time to say hi to Daddy dearest for me.” He drawled mockingly, “My wealthy as fuck father, who cut me off some years ago and disappeared from my life, only to come back and steal my girlfriend.”
“You arrogant brat!” I spat, my jaw clenched as I glared at him with clenched fists.
“Um, Dylan… We’ll give you two some space to catch up.” One of his friends spoke hesitantly, shooting nervous glances between us.
“You’re right, man. Let’s go.” Another agreed with him. After patting Dylan on the back, they hurried away, leaving us alone.
“Your friends appear to have the much-needed respect and politeness you lack.”
“My friends and respect are two words that shouldn’t be in a sentence. But I’ll leave it at that. I’m sure they left because they didn’t want to see me humiliate you. It would be degrading and-”
“Humiliate me? Have you no conscience, for fuck’s sake? What on Earth are you doing here? Because I don’t believe that meeting here is a coincidence for a second. Did your mother send you?”
“Oh, please come on. I should be the one asking you that. What are you doing in this run-down establishment? You chose this bar out of all the bars in Orlando. Isn’t it lovely…” He trailed off sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he asked again, “This is not a place for people like you, so why are you here, Daddy dearest?”
I remained silent for a while, staring at the piece of work I called my son and attempting to decipher the question he posed to me.
‘This wasn’t a place for people like me.’ I repeated, and I couldn’t deny that he was right.
I suppose this wasn’t the kind of place that someone like me frequented, but it served its purpose for the night. No paparazzi were around, and I felt completely free and anonymous here.
Despite its rundown and small size, this bar provided the ideal setting for me to get away and escape everything, and that was just what I wanted.
“Aren’t you going to say anything, Father? Or…” He paused, his brows quirking, and his lips curved in a sly smirk. “Oh, I see now. It’s the paparazzi. That’s it. You’re hiding from them, and-”
“And it’s all because of you and your crazy mother.” When I interrupted him, I saw the hurt on his face before it twisted into a scowl.
“Don’t you dare call my mother crazy!” He snarled and leaned forward with clenched fists.
“What will you do if I call her crazy? Punch me? With those clenched fists of yours?” I scoffed as a cracked laugh bubbled up from beneath my throat. “I might be in my forties, son, but I’m still fit. If we turned this place into a boxing ring, I’d beat the hell out of you. So, if I were you, I’d tread carefully.”
“Oh, please…” He scoffed. I waited for him to say something else, but he abruptly fell silent, much to my dismay.
“Talking about paparazzi and the media…” I paused, trying to calm the rage bubbling inside me. “Why did you tell the press about your relationship with Renee?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No.”
“I did it in retaliation. You fucked my girl, and I had to do something about it. I also did it for the money too. I got a hefty pay if you’d like to know.”
Something in his words ripped at my heart, and I wanted to grab him by the throat and… fuck!
“Renee was never your girl!” I spat back bitterly. “If I recall correctly, you cheated on her. But I’m not surprised you’d do something like that. I mean, isnt behavior an inherited trait?”
I could tell that my statement pissed him off. With a smirk, I began to say something else, but he cut me off.
“Yes, I cheated on her. However, you still slept with my ex-girlfriend. Why did you choose Renee out of all the women in the world, Father? Why her? Or did she come to you?”
“Come to me?”
“Yeah. Where on earth did you meet her? Or did she meet you herself? She most likely did it to get back at me for cheating on her. That’s all there is to it!”
“Unfortunately for you, that’s not it.”
“So, what happened? And please don’t even attempt to defend her. I’ve told Renee about you but never showed her your pictures. She must have done some research and planned everything. Swooping in and entrapping you with her golden pussy, you succumbed to her tricks, and look where it got us. She’s such a bitch! A slutt who-”
“DON’T! YOU! DARE!” I bellowed loudly, blood boiling, as I hit the countertop.
I stood up from my stool and grabbed him by the collar before I realized what was happening.
“You won’t insult Renee or call her names in my presence. I will not tolerate it.” I spat out, my grip on his shirt tightening.
“Sir, could you please…” The bartender’s weak, pleading voice drew my attention away from Dylan.
“Don’t worry,” I deadpanned, glaring at him as I added. “He’s my son.”
I drew my gaze back to the quivering mess in my grasp, locking my eyes on his deathly pale features.
“The damage caused by you and your mother are enough. I won’t allow it to continue. There will be no more slander. No more-”
“I understand. Drop… let go of… me…” He stuttered, gasping for air and clawing at my hand, attempting to pry it away from his neck, but I refused to budge.
“You’re not going to say shit about Renee.” I paused and then continued. “Get this straight, Renee never approached me. We met in Miami during her vacation. A vacation she embarked on to forget about your cheating ass. So, no. She didn’t come up to me on purpose. Our meeting was entirely coincidental. It was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I have no regrets! You lost a good woman because you fucked up. I lost her too, but I’ll get her back. Regardless of who or what, I will fight for her. It makes no difference if you slept with her or were in a relationship. If anything, it’s pushed me to correct my mistakes.”
Dylan opened his mouth several times to speak, but nothing came out. His hands stopped struggling against my grip, and his head tilted slightly, almost questioningly.
“This is the final warning I’ll give you. Stay out of my path, and never disrespect my woman’s name.” I finished and let go of his shirt, watching as he coughed heavily and tried to catch his breath.
Looking around, I noticed that I’d piqued the interest of a few customers at the bar, who were watching the mini scuffle between Dylan and me.
Their eyes widened with interest and the usual curiosity that came with it. It irked me.
I needed to get out of there.
Hissing, I brought out my wallet and took out some dollar bills.
Placing it on the countertop, I pushed it toward the bartender. “This should cover my bill and his.”
“You don’t have to pay for my drink. I’m fully capable of…” Dylan muttered, but I interrupted him before he could finish. “Don’t take my kind gesture to heart. Rather, you should watch your back. Your mother should as well. Forward my message to her, as she appears to be ignoring my calls.”
Without sparing him another glance, I turned and stormed out of the bar.
Whipping out my phone from my pocket as I stepped out of the building, I dialed my driver’s number, and he picked up on the first ring.
“Mr. Clarke.” His voice came through.
“Hello. Please bring the car around.” I instructed, before adding stiffly, “I need to leave. Now.”