Lonely Hearts

Trigger Warnings - Sexual content, Drugs, Physical Violence.

Snow fell like ash over the city engulfed by

mother nature’s wrath. For William “Liam” Carson, it started how every night ended in a dive bar on the outskirts of the pretty side of town with a drink and a lifetime of regrets. It wasn’t his usual watering hole, nor was it local, but I guess the glitz and glam had drawn him in, as it does with every other sucker who lives in the city we call angels.

As the frost fell like small meteorites, Liam ducked into a quaint bar on the corner for cover. Sure, it wasn’t the Whiskey, Roxy, or Rainbow, but it served liquor, and the warmth came free. The blizzard tore through the city with no sign of slowing down. 

Liam approached the ageing bar and ordered his usual.

“Whiskey with water... make it a double,” 

“Coming right up, say would you like to try our homemade pies?” 

The barkeep replied. 

He was a merry fellow, didn’t suit the surroundings of shabby decor, and tired linen hanging from the walls and windows.

“Just keep the drinks coming,” 

Liam poured the first of many down his throat, savouring the sweet and smoky taste of the liquid that bent to the glass.

Standing at the bar, Liam took in his surroundings while spending the last of his pay check. The feel of the redwood under his fingernails, the smell of the wine left to breathe too long, and the sound of “Skynerds” Free bird ringing out of the beaten jukebox in the corner.

He watched the clientele of the place, specifically the woman, as they ordered expensive drinks dressed in cheap faux fur, pretending it to be real. Their spouses watched them as they took photos of their meals for more attention to the very thing that was killing social interaction. And the tall, infamous white letters in the hills watched over all her guests disguising its seedy underworld with bright lights, and big dreams for the old, and bitter to take advantage of the young, and naïve.

It wasn’t hard for Liam to differentiate the bad from the good and the ugly. He’d been residing amongst them for some time now. Lucky for him, he was close enough to see through the metaphorical mask the fine folk of Hollywood wore while talking at each other, but too far away to be blinded by their devious deception. 

While tending to his blend of Whiskey, and water, a snappily dressed man complete with a fedora brushed past Liam. He knocked his drink from his hand, allowing some of its contents to dirty his jacket. 

“Hey, careful Mr.!” 

Liam said to the discourteous man as he walked past.

The ill-mannered stranger turned his head to Liam, giving him a scowling look before continuing to the exit. Liam could tell him. Had a rap sheet that read like a bad novel.

He left at the same time the server strolled over carrying a circular silver tray with Liam’s drink of choice dead Centre.

“You can thank the blonde at table two,” 

The server said, pointing to the stranger sitting alone.

Desperate was the first word that came to Liam’s mind. Not desperate to fuck, she was beautiful, but desperate for love. He had seen it before a hundred times or more... the familiar sight made him sad.

With nothing to lose, Liam walked over to the empty chair opposite the stranger sitting alone.

“What do I owe ya?” 

He asked confidently.

“Just your time William Carson,” 

She replied, piquing his curiosity.

“You know me?” 

“I’ve seen you around,” 

Liam was cautious proceeding on, but he played it “Callahan” and kept his cool.

“It’s Liam, and you are?” 

He asked as the liquor slipped down his throat smooth as silk.

“Another lonely heart looking for a connection,” 

Snap... The stranger had Liam made while he was still busy figuring her out.

The cold evening drew to a subtle end, allowing room for the long winter’s night ahead. The drinks went down fast, and the snow kept falling, coating everything below in a thin white blanket.

By the fourth drink, Liam had a good idea of where the rest of the night would take them.

“Shall we get out of here, Liam?”

“I don’t even know your name,”

He replied, knowing that it didn’t make a difference. They were half cut and the red dress she donned revealing all her fine curves made her offer hard to refuse.

The ancient empty streets surrounded by the concrete jungle dripping with frost and slick under the tires were empty on account of the never-ending blizzard.

It didn’t take the taxi long to reach its destination, the old part of town. Liam was far from home now, no lady liberty in sight, nor bridge suspended over the East River. The city’s tallest buildings were overpopulated by sleazy agents and silicone woman trying to make it big on the silver screen. He didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary as they entered room 665 the devil’s neighbour.

The stranger took control as she and Liam fumbled onto the bed that housed ruffled sheets and plush pillows to match. Entwined in themselves, their lips touched, causing the fires of lust to rage inside. He pulled her tight dress up, ripping the seams and revealing her black laced Brazilians. Caught in the moment, she slipped her panties to the side, allowing him to enter.

“Oh, Liam don’t stop!” 

She moaned over and over.

Although the whiskey had dulled his senses, it didn’t take long for him to reach the finish line. They kissed once more before she descended and covered her bare breasts with the poly-cotton sheets.

The sex didn’t seem to relax Liam, though, who appeared preoccupied.

“What’s wrong?” 

The stranger asked, confused.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” 

Liam replied with a smile absconding from his face.

“Just relax...here,” 

The stranger handed Liam a tumbler filled with a copper liquid, the odour strong and fruity. 

Liam sipped from the glass while smoke from the stranger’s cigarette danced to its silent ballad as it smouldered in the ashtray. For a moment, Liam forgot to worry and finished his drink. 

“Just relax honey,” 

The stranger whispered as she bowed her head under the covers. 

Even though it was pleasurable. Liam could not fully relax as he swore a solemn oath that he had now broken to the woman that occupied the home screen of his Samsung.

The stranger woke to the sound of the wind howling at the window. Liam was asleep next to her. Nothing could wake him. She made sure of it by slipping him a mickey. She took her time slipping back into her torn dress and reapplying her makeup while Liam mumbled alone on the bed, unconscious.

Thinking back to where the night started, the quaint bar on, the corner. It was the stranger who had thought Liam to be desperate as he sat there caressing his drink. Not desperate to fuck, but desperate for love... she had seen it so many times before... it was too easy. 

The stranger made her way through Liam’s denim pockets, searching for his loot. She opened his worn leather wallet and removed the notes, slipping them safely away in her possession. His cards too and any loose change lying at the bottom.

Barely breaking even from the drinks she brought to keep herself company, she longed for something more. His watch sparkled from the end table cluttered with stubbed out cigarettes, the drink ladled with drugs, and his cell. 

The watch wasn’t worth thousands, but the stranger knew she could fetch a pretty penny in with it. After all, it was his most valuable possession as far. Like most people’s cells, Liam’s was also pin protected. The stranger could not unlock it, but the image surprised her under the transparent keypad. 

It was of Liam, a child, and a woman who, at one time, used to have a husband’s love. Moved by this simple picture, the stranger left the phone facing downwards.

His wedding band trembled inside his jacket pocket as the stranger fumbled about chasing it. By now, it was obvious Liam had nothing left of value. No money, no expensive accessories and certainly not his dignity, even if he was yet to know.

As the stranger decided on her next move, a knock at the door startled her.

“Hey, Mr. Henderson... You in there!”

A man’s voice called from behind the door 

The stranger stayed silent. 

“Henry, I haven’t seen you in days. You're not still angry, are you? I said I’m sorry.” 

The man persists. 

The banging on the door did not disturb Liam, who was still lying on the bed.

After a few minutes, the knocking stopped. The stranger took a breath and made her way to the kitchen. Inside was a conspiracy theorist’s wet dream. Placed on the counter were several polaroid’s of unfamiliar faces, some men, some women, and some with red crosses stricken through them.

In the corner of the room, causing a foul bitterness, was the occupant of the apartment Mr. Henderson. He traded his colour for a whiter shade of pale days ago. The stranger gathered the pictures, placed them in the sink, and struck a match to them. The flames had a burning desire for the prints as they folded into ashes. 

Recognizing Liam as a loose end, the stranger picked up a kitchen knife sticky with blood. She stood above his motionless body as he drooled and dreamed. She brought the knife to his throat as murder ballads and sad songs played from the turntable. 

Thinking about the family photo displayed on his cell phone was enough to halt the stranger from slaying Liam. She was a virgin to spare her victims. She left, leaving Liam sleeping and oblivious to anything after their act of coitus.

The voice on the car radio assured the people of the snowbound city that the worst was over as the morning gently crept in. Alas, that was a false dawn. The blizzard had no intention of slowing down despite the reports. It wouldn’t matter to the stranger as she sped off in a car that belonged to some other poor fool who fell for her trickery.

The Golden State, especially the home of the stars, was quickly gaining a notorious reputation. The blonde stranger smiled to herself as she peered in the rear-view mirror, leaving behind the storm and the tall white letters shining in the distance.

Clouds parted, the snow melted and the noise of the dealers and sympathy of slots in Sin City quickly replaced the sound of false idols’ gossip in Hollywood.

It began with how her nights ended. In a fancy bar occupied by grandiloquent folk sipping cocktails and listening to the live jazz. 

“Excuse me, sir.” 

“Yes, madam, what seems to be the problem?” 

The server asked the redhead sitting alone.

“Could you get me another, please?” 

The stranger asked, referring to the drink.

“Certainly. May I get you anything else?” 

He replied. 

“Yes, actually, could you get the gentleman sitting alone at the bar the same again?” 

“Of course, I hope you don’t mind me saying you look very happy with yourself... Did you win at the casino?” 

The server inquired.

The stranger smirked whilst responding 

“I have just gotten away with murder” 

The server chuckled as he pointed her out to the man sitting alone at the bar, dazzled by her beauty.

The End.