Chapter 2 - 5
th
February 2021
Declan sat on a stool at the bar of the local dingy, underground rock club, illuminated only by the offensively garish, strobing disco lights that pervaded through an otherwise perfect gloom. Over on the dance floor - not, not really a dance floor, just a space in the place where there were no tables and chairs, a menagerie of local misfits and weirdos were flailing themselves to The Number of the Beast by Iron Maiden, hair streaking through the smoke in ropes, sweat pumping from every conceivable pore. The smell of rum and sambuca hung thick in the air.
This was his favourite place in Bury. His people, the folk that didn't fit the norm of aesthetic that seemed so popular on Tinder and in yoghurt commercials. The kind that were always made to feel like outcasts on the main drinking street in this town, Argentine Street - colloquially known as Argenwine Street. Should one of them head into a bar on that street, with tattoos, piercings and dyed hair proudly on display, they would be met with the look of derision that only premature botox and lip-fillers can create. So, they all headed to the Deaf Leopard.
Tonight though, Declan was not having a good time. He was agitated - no, not agitated, anxious? No, just straight up depressed. Angry? For sure. If the big fucker next to him trying to order five pints didn't get his elbow out of Declan's ribs, there was going to be trouble. Theoretical trouble, of course. Declan was no fighter, in any sense of the word. And this had been happening for the past hour. By and large, the bar area was pretty quiet, people turning to dancing as rock anthem followed rock anthem, but, without fail, every few minutes, Declan would feel a bump, a nudge, a knock, as people's spatial awareness completely fell victim to alcohol intake.
It also didn't help that, 10 minutes before this, his ex walked into the bar with the social group they both used to be part of. They had split just over a month ago, just after New Year's Eve. They had been growing apart for years, but everything came to a head one night - a decision made by her, hugely impactful of their future, which Declan didn't agree with but had absolutely no say in. An ocean of resentment built on all sides of their relationship until the pressure became too great - the romantic technology of their relationship unable to withstand the depths of this abyss, and so they imploded.
In the immediate aftermath, the other members of the group - John, Norman, Zoe and Leslie - had vowed to stay friends with both of them, but it became seemingly untenable for them to maintain two separate friendships and one by one, they drifted - no, drifted wasn't the right word - charged away from Declan.
Which is how Declan found himself sat alone in The Deaf Leopard. Even over the music, he could hear them. Laughing. Having a good time. How dare they. How dare they!
Then Declan laughed to himself - he was starting to sound just a touch on the side of madness. He wasn't bitter, he wasn't even resentful. Just a crappy moment. He leant up on his seat to pull out his smoking gear at the same time as trying to get the attention of one of the bar staff to order a pint. He sat back, hoping he got the attention of one particular member of the bar team. He couldn't help but take her in for a moment, not for the first time by any means. While he was staring, she looked over at him with a half-smile, raised her hand to a specific beer bump, tapping on it with a false nail as black as a raven's wing. Declan nodded and the half-smile turned to a straightened mouth, a nod and wink as she went to get a glass.
As she turned, Declan's gaze followed her. He'd been coming in quite a lot over the last few weeks, clearly often enough for him to now have a "usual", and over that time, he had admired - he didn't even know her name! He had wanted to ask for some time now but had always found the words caught in his throat. He couldn't seem to communicate with her beyond asking for, and paying for drinks. It did always seem to be her serving him though. Tonight, her outfit was simple. A black vest, cut high around the neck, yet taught around her chest and clinging to a petite frame beneath, and black leather trousers which formed to her legs and curves perfectly. As she bent to get a glass for Declan's pint, he couldn't help it, his eyes drifted to how the leather stretched slightly over what he imaged was a simply perfect arse.
As she came back up and looked back over at him, he quickly averted his gaze back down to the cigarette paper he had just pulled from the pack. He started to pick a filter from the little plastic tube, furtive glances back up towards her. Her make up was simple. Eyeliner, foundation and a touch of pink lip-gloss which seemed to match the pink streaks in her otherwise blonde hair. As she finished pulling the pint, Declan had filled the paper with tobacco and rolled it, about to raise it to his lips to lick the glue strip. As she placed the pint down, she looked up at Declan. As his tongue came out, their eyes met. He dragged his tongue along the paper and, at the same time, her tongue poked out from her glossed lips just slightly, and seemed to lick along her top lip.
She leaned against the bar, both hands on the edge with her fingers hooked under the marble, and pushed her shoulders back. Declan fished into the pocket of his brown leather jacket, which was hung on one of the hooks under the bar, for his wallet and handed her a five pound note.
"Keep the change..." He let the end of the sentence hang as if he was about to finish it with her name but once again remembered he didn't know it.
"Millie" She laughed a little, giving a little eye roll and taking the money from him. She started to turn away, then stopped.
"Want me to watch that for you?" Millie cocked her head a little as she asked. Declan could swear her eyes had drifted down from his eyes a little, but couldn't tell if she was looking at the drink or at him.
"That would be wonderful. Thank you, Millie." Declan spoke through a thinned mouth, having already put the cigarette between his lips and was flipping his jacket over his arms.
Millie gave Declan another wink before moving away to serve another customer. Declan made his way past a handful of people towards the stair that lead outside. Once he hit fresh air, he stepped away from the entrance, feeling his pockets for a lighter when he heard his name being called. At first, Declan assumed it wasn't for him and turned the other way, heading to the steps of the Italian restaurant next door to the Deaf Leopard. He leant against the brick wall, perched up on the first step and lit his cigarette, exhaling into the cold night air, a mixture of smoke and condensed breath in the cold.
It was then he heard his name again, and looked up to find the source of the voice. Towards him was walking one of the first friends he made in his life post-marriage. Well, it was someone he used to work with when he was in his retail work days, Casper. They had worked in a fly-by-night phone case and repair shop in the local shopping centre. At the time, Casper was 18, and went by the name Chloe, but that was five years ago, and a lot of discovery can happen in five years. They had bonded at work over their shared geekiness, and the fact that they both knew the job wasn't going to last. They spent the working day watching comedy on the company laptop - there were never really any customers to disturb them, and playing silly word games. After the shop inevitably shut down, they had drifted apart, but a few weeks ago, they had bumped into each other again and reconnected. It felt nice to Declan to have a friend again. As Casper walked towards him, he cursed himself again for having such a depressingly cliched thought.
"Declan!" Casper shouted for a third time, on this occasion practically in his face. He opened his arms to hug Declan and they stood for a few moments hugging before breaking away. "Are you in here tonight? They won't let us in."
"Who's us? You're telling me you have other friends? A pox on you!" Declan smiled, and Casper returned with a laugh.
"Hey, I'm not a complete loner like you. I'm out with Evie. Have you met Evie? They're just over there somewhere..." Casper turned to look down the street, his voice trailing off. He turned back, straightening out the pleats in his pink skirt, then pulling the black band t-shirt out a little. It had become a little too tight around his chest as it was pulled into the tuck. Casper had a very alternative style, the skirt being complimented with knee-high gothic-style boots with more buckles than Declan could count, and to top the outfit off, neon green cat ears sat in a shoulder length pink wig.
"Evie is somewhere, I'm not sure at the moment. They won't let us in" Casper had a giddy energy in this moment, not annoyed, but more like he had chugged 3 cans of Monster in under a minute.
"Why won't they let you in?" Declan continued to smoke his cigarette, leaning against the wall.
"I, erm" Casper looked down at the ground, spinning the hell of one foot in a semi-circle.
