40 - Drunkenness...

***POV NOAH***

Sitting at the bar table, I’ve already lost count of how many drinks I’ve had. I’ve also lost track of time. The only thing I know is that the conversation with my friend’s employee has been going well. Neither of us stops talking.

“Noah,” I hear my friend’s voice. I shift my gaze away from the girl and look at the man approaching my table. He glances at the girl for a moment, then back at me. I can see the judgment in his eyes, but I don’t care. “It’s already dawn… I’m closing the bar.”

I just nodded in agreement and turned my attention back to the girl in front of me. She smiled.

“I guess our conversation ends here,” she said, getting up from her chair. “Remember what we talked about and know that you’re not the only one who suffers from love. Everyone goes through it at some point. And remember, there are only a few permanent loves in our lives: our mother’s, our children’s, God’s, and our self-love. Everything else is fleeting, transitory, intermittent, and temporary. They have phases and expiration dates. Some loves start, grow, and end, and there’s nothing wrong with that. There will be other loves and other broken hearts too. So feel the pain. Feel everything you need to feel, but don’t think it all ends today. You’ll love it again. And then you’ll hurt again. And that’s how it goes until we take our last breath. This is the first time, but unfortunately, it won’t be the last. You’ll get through this and survive. It’s not the end of the world. Love’s pain makes us stronger: no one experiences it twice in the same way. With each heartache, we transform, and there will come a time when you’ll be a completely different person than you were the first time you felt this. That evolution should make you proud, not sad. Some say a broken heart can only be healed by another love. That may be true, but I’ve always preferred to believe that a broken heart heals faster with a good dose of self-love. Don’t focus on negative feelings like anger, resentment, jealousy, or envy. Focus on your recovery and reclaiming the goodness within you. Sometimes, you might feel bad because the other person seems to move on faster but remember, their clock doesn’t run at the same speed as yours. So don’t deceive yourself into thinking the pain and suffering will be the same for both of you.”

I froze, staring at the girl. She seemed so young, yet so wise.

“Luana, I think you’re in the wrong profession. You should be a psychologist!” Liam said, making me laugh. We laughed, and I raised my still-full glass in her direction before taking a sip.

“How old are you, Luana?” I asked, curious. We spent the whole night talking, but we only talked about love.

“Twenty,” she replied simply.

I licked my lips thoughtfully.

“I need an assistant… Interested?”

“Oh no! Are you going to steal my employee?” Liam faked drama.

“With all due respect to your establishment, Liam, Luana deserves something better for her life than dealing with cheap pickup lines from the drunks who come here.”

“Does that include you?” he teased.

I got up from the chair and felt my head spinning. Maybe I’m a little drunk.

I leaned my arm on the table to avoid falling.

“You’re in no condition to drive. Crash at my place tonight,” Liam insisted.

I just laughed.

“I’m fine, man.” I looked at the girl. “My offer stands. If you’re interested, ask Liam for my number later and give me a call.”

I took my wallet out of my pocket, pulled out some cash, and placed it on the table.

“I told you it’s on the house,” Liam protested.

“If you do that with all your customers, you’ll go bankrupt, man,” I replied. “Thanks for the company.”

Swaying a little, I managed to reach my car. I unlocked the alarm and opened the door, sliding into the driver’s seat.

I tossed my phone and wallet onto the passenger seat and rested my head on the steering wheel.

“Look what you’re doing to me, Isabela.” I sighed.

(…)

The insistent ringing of my phone wakes me. My head pounds, and I dread opening my eyes because I know the pain will be three times worse. My body aches, too; I can barely move.

“I’m never drinking again,” I mutter, slowly opening my eyes and realizing I ended up sleeping in my car. The way I got in last night is exactly how I stayed.

I watch Liam cleaning his bar while music plays in the background.

My phone rings again.

I stretch my arm to the passenger seat, grab the phone, and glance at the screen to see my dad’s name. I take a deep breath, lean back in the seat, and answer the call.

“What?”

“Is that how you answer your father?” he asks angrily.

“Just tell me what you want already, please,” I reply impatiently.

“Where are you? Are you skipping practice again? What’s going on with you, Noah?”

“I’m on my way,” I lied.

“Do you think the athletes should be waiting around for you? You’re ruining your career!”

I take a deep breath.

“Dad,” I try to argue, but he doesn’t give me a chance.

“You’re throwing away a lifetime of effort over some woman, Noah. You sound like an emotional virgin.”

“It has nothing to do with Isabela,” I lied.

“Don’t take me for a fool, Noah. I know very well it’s all because of that woman. Forget her once and for all before it’s too late. She’s ruining your life. Do you understand that?”

“I don’t want to be rude to you,” I sigh, “but how many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my personal life?”

“I will stay involved. I’m your father and your manager, damn it. If you ruin your career, you’ll ruin my life too.”

Arguing with my dad never accomplished anything, and it’s not going to now. I don’t care what he thinks or doesn’t think.

“I’m on my way to practice.”

That’s all I say before hanging up and tossing my phone onto the seat beside me, irritated.

Damn.