"You Made Me Lose Count"
By: Vash-chan
Summary: A short story I submitted to a media company many years ago. It was used as a writing sample so that the company could see who could be picked to be a writer for an upcoming mini series.
She sat alone, absorbing each of those pesky bubbles lurking in her glass. The night was bustling in the bar she was currently visiting, but it didn't seem to bother her too much. She was too concerned on counting how many bubbles had formed in her fizzy drink. None of the drunken shouting from the young boys singing appallingly to the radio distracted her focus. It was those damn bubbles that had her full attention.
She twirled the glass in between her fingers as she counted away. How many did she manage to find so far? Twenty? Thirty? Part of her mind wondered what was the point of this exercise. Did it matter though? It took her away from reality. It occupied her and was often the perfect excuse to not mingle with anyone, especially at a gathering amongst so-called VIPs who didn't know who she was, let alone took much notice of her. However tonight there was no gathering. She was just having a night out on her own.
She hadn't noticed the drunken karaoke session had finished and a sudden jerk on her right shoulder woke her out of her intense bubble counting. She immediately turned to find one of the boys leaning over the bar and too close to her right hand side.
"Boss, another pint for us please!" he then grinned at his new neighbour with awfully yellow teeth. "Alright babe?"
She could smell the alcohol on him, combined with bad BO, and could only cover her mouth in quiet protest. Disgusting. Never mind his messy student hair and skinny jeans dangling off his Calvin Klein briefs, his inappropriate pushing was not cool. His friends who dressed in a similar manner joined his side and they high-fived each other. Suddenly it got noisier for her and she didn't like it. She was certain a sentence on the lines of 'hot Asian bird' was mentioned between them. Idiots, the whole lot of them.
Interrupting the chatter from the boys she calmly stated, "You made me lose count." The boy next to her had a 'You what?' expression all over his face and she repeated her sentence, only this time louder and sharper. Her fingers tapped her glass impatiently. This was possibly her best bubble count in a long time and these boys had to ruin it for her. A pity.
He sniggered to his friends when he relayed her peculiar message. "Sorry, darlin' I didn't realise you were studying."
She rolled her eyes. "Well at least I'm *studying* and *not* getting drunk till I smell of fresh dog crap." The laughter ceased from the trio of boys. She wasn't entirely sure if these boys were university students or working class thugs who spent their money on booze and cigarettes. Honestly she couldn't seem to care right now. "I really don't understand this generation."
"What's wrong with you, Chink?" asked one of the boys. "Broke up with your boyfriend?"
She swallowed the remains of her coke and threw her glass in the boys' direction. Shattered glass pieces flew all over the floor and the entire bar became silent. The whole world was watching her. "No... I did not break up with a boyfriend." Why did everyone think moodiness came from relationships? But what did she know? She had never been down that road before. Friendship betrayal on the other hand, she knew very well. She flicked a small shard of glass off her jacket's sleeve and walked slowly towards the boys who had gotten on her nerves tonight. Their shoulders tensed as she approached them. Was she going to attack them? Naturally she was tempted, however they were not worth her time and energy to throw around in the bar. If she was Supergirl it would have been a piece of cake to beat them till they pleaded for mercy. Instead she leaned close to speak.
"People like you disgust me when what your so-called fun involves getting pissed drunk, calling a random person Chink or asking for DVDs," she said. "God damn you thugs with your Asian stereotypes."
"Thugs?!" exclaimed one of the boys. "Don't call us that."
"Then don't call me a fucking Chink!" Her knuckles tensed. Why not punch these Chavs? She had nothing to lose at all.
"Alright, alright guys ENOUGH!" the bartender clapped his hands. "Young lady, don't start a fight in my bar. You've been sensible each time you visit and boys..." he waved his finger warningly to them. "Don't bully her or anyone else like her. Understand? And no, Rory you do not get another pint. You boys already had enough for the night."
The boys retaliated angrily at the bartender's refusal to serve them more booze. This quite night did not go as planned. All she wanted was some peace and quiet, away from home. Shame the library and her favourite cafes had closed early. They would have been better substitutes for her 'me time.' Her anger suddenly took its toll on her and she felt herself grow tired. She could not collapse in a place like this. No point in making her parents panic even more. Suddenly she wanted to get out of this place and go somewhere else but after looking at her watch she realised she had been in this bar for far too long. Hopefully nobody would notice how tense she looked when she got back.
"Have you ever been close to death, boys?" she found herself asking. "Because that's what I am feeling right now. You just pissed me off when I wanted a moment to myself. Have a nice evening, boss." She lazily waved at the bartender before leaving the bar. Never mind the many faces watching her go. She had to go home and sleep. Whether it was her final night of living, she honestly had no clue.
Summary: A short story I submitted to a media company many years ago. It was used as a writing sample so that the company could see who could be picked to be a writer for an upcoming mini series.
She sat alone, absorbing each of those pesky bubbles lurking in her glass. The night was bustling in the bar she was currently visiting, but it didn't seem to bother her too much. She was too concerned on counting how many bubbles had formed in her fizzy drink. None of the drunken shouting from the young boys singing appallingly to the radio distracted her focus. It was those damn bubbles that had her full attention.
She twirled the glass in between her fingers as she counted away. How many did she manage to find so far? Twenty? Thirty? Part of her mind wondered what was the point of this exercise. Did it matter though? It took her away from reality. It occupied her and was often the perfect excuse to not mingle with anyone, especially at a gathering amongst so-called VIPs who didn't know who she was, let alone took much notice of her. However tonight there was no gathering. She was just having a night out on her own.
She hadn't noticed the drunken karaoke session had finished and a sudden jerk on her right shoulder woke her out of her intense bubble counting. She immediately turned to find one of the boys leaning over the bar and too close to her right hand side.
"Boss, another pint for us please!" he then grinned at his new neighbour with awfully yellow teeth. "Alright babe?"
She could smell the alcohol on him, combined with bad BO, and could only cover her mouth in quiet protest. Disgusting. Never mind his messy student hair and skinny jeans dangling off his Calvin Klein briefs, his inappropriate pushing was not cool. His friends who dressed in a similar manner joined his side and they high-fived each other. Suddenly it got noisier for her and she didn't like it. She was certain a sentence on the lines of 'hot Asian bird' was mentioned between them. Idiots, the whole lot of them.
Interrupting the chatter from the boys she calmly stated, "You made me lose count." The boy next to her had a 'You what?' expression all over his face and she repeated her sentence, only this time louder and sharper. Her fingers tapped her glass impatiently. This was possibly her best bubble count in a long time and these boys had to ruin it for her. A pity.
He sniggered to his friends when he relayed her peculiar message. "Sorry, darlin' I didn't realise you were studying."
She rolled her eyes. "Well at least I'm *studying* and *not* getting drunk till I smell of fresh dog crap." The laughter ceased from the trio of boys. She wasn't entirely sure if these boys were university students or working class thugs who spent their money on booze and cigarettes. Honestly she couldn't seem to care right now. "I really don't understand this generation."
"What's wrong with you, Chink?" asked one of the boys. "Broke up with your boyfriend?"
She swallowed the remains of her coke and threw her glass in the boys' direction. Shattered glass pieces flew all over the floor and the entire bar became silent. The whole world was watching her. "No... I did not break up with a boyfriend." Why did everyone think moodiness came from relationships? But what did she know? She had never been down that road before. Friendship betrayal on the other hand, she knew very well. She flicked a small shard of glass off her jacket's sleeve and walked slowly towards the boys who had gotten on her nerves tonight. Their shoulders tensed as she approached them. Was she going to attack them? Naturally she was tempted, however they were not worth her time and energy to throw around in the bar. If she was Supergirl it would have been a piece of cake to beat them till they pleaded for mercy. Instead she leaned close to speak.
"People like you disgust me when what your so-called fun involves getting pissed drunk, calling a random person Chink or asking for DVDs," she said. "God damn you thugs with your Asian stereotypes."
"Thugs?!" exclaimed one of the boys. "Don't call us that."
"Then don't call me a fucking Chink!" Her knuckles tensed. Why not punch these Chavs? She had nothing to lose at all.
"Alright, alright guys ENOUGH!" the bartender clapped his hands. "Young lady, don't start a fight in my bar. You've been sensible each time you visit and boys..." he waved his finger warningly to them. "Don't bully her or anyone else like her. Understand? And no, Rory you do not get another pint. You boys already had enough for the night."
The boys retaliated angrily at the bartender's refusal to serve them more booze. This quite night did not go as planned. All she wanted was some peace and quiet, away from home. Shame the library and her favourite cafes had closed early. They would have been better substitutes for her 'me time.' Her anger suddenly took its toll on her and she felt herself grow tired. She could not collapse in a place like this. No point in making her parents panic even more. Suddenly she wanted to get out of this place and go somewhere else but after looking at her watch she realised she had been in this bar for far too long. Hopefully nobody would notice how tense she looked when she got back.
"Have you ever been close to death, boys?" she found herself asking. "Because that's what I am feeling right now. You just pissed me off when I wanted a moment to myself. Have a nice evening, boss." She lazily waved at the bartender before leaving the bar. Never mind the many faces watching her go. She had to go home and sleep. Whether it was her final night of living, she honestly had no clue.