Prologue—The Journey: Chapter 1

The music rumbled through the speakers, not loud, not deafening, but still crisp and clear. The different voices around me made it hard to hear exactly what song it was, and even more importantly, who sang it. As usual, I was behind the bar, and as usual, it was packed. It was a Saturday, and people had just gotten paid, so the bar was packed with happy patrons who weren’t afraid of leaving a good tip behind.

“Luna!” Brian yelled from the other side of the bar, waving bills above his head—he might as well have been flashing a neon sign above his head, with big, bright letters screaming notice me! “IPA!”

I couldn’t resist the smile on my face, because just as short-tempered Brian could be, just as deep and considerate he could be as well. I grabbed the beer from underneath the counter, popped the lid easily and quickly—the beer opener was always in my back pocket—and set it down in front of Brian. With a smile and a short nod, I accepted the bill from his hand, and with a keep the rest, he moved back down between the dancing bodies.

My hand automatically fell back on my cigarette, which I picked up and placed between my lips, snagging another drag as I wiped down said counter. I let the smoke blow out between my lips before I pulled it from my lips, twisting it between my fingers. You should stop. But that would be boring, and it would be a pain in my ass to quit. And as many other things, I choose to just ignore the nagging voice in my head, and just kept on going, hoping for the best.

I had been bartending for a long time; it was something I was good at, something I could actually figure out to do. Even in my twenty-two years, I hadn’t managed to do anything but graduate from high school. I had to spend my life doing something, but it was tough settling in somewhere. But this job, it was decent pay, great tips, and it gave me something to do. As long as I got out of bed in the morning with a hunger for completing my job, then I couldn’t see a problem with it—even if my mother could find countless.

When I was at work, my thoughts could just flow—they simply floated better in noise. With my hands going on routine, and my extensive knowledge of the patrons, I didn’t have to be on just as much. I could simply just be. Which made me feel, even in this environment, like I had a calm and steady job.

I took another drag of my cigarette. It was stupid to start smoking, but when I was offered one while drunk, I wasn’t able to say no, and here I was, four years later, and still smoking.

The hours flew by as I stood there serving beers and low-effort drinks. I knew that before I could even think it, I would be on my way back home, to where Lucas was. My fiancé.

My mother didn’t like him—obviously—not when I met him, not when we moved in together, and certainly not when he proposed to me. I told her then that I was an adult, that I could make my own decision, and that I was sure this was the right one. It also meant she never visited us when he was home, and when he was, she would ignore him. My mother was the world champion in freezing people out, pretending the problems she couldn’t handle weren’t there.

My gaze caught on the ring on my finger. It was a simple silver band with a nicely sized diamond in the middle of it. As I told him, it wasn’t the ring that mattered to me; it was the intention behind it. The will and wishes behind it. I had known for a long while that I wanted to marry him, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, having fun, doing whatever we wanted, and no one being able to hold us back.

“Are you dreaming about that lovely man of yours again?” Susan slurred from my right side, already sounding way more hammered than she should have been at the time. She shouldn’t be given anymore, but when she was drunk, my tips skyrocketed, and I had a wedding to save for.

“Don’t think I ever do anything else,” I answered her, a smirk playing across my lips.

“He’s just lovely,” Kim gushed, butting into our conversation—always eager to see Lucas. “When are you going to bring him here again?” Ah, there it is.

Lucas hated coming here, but he did it regularly if I was playing. He knew it meant a lot to me when we could share my music. The music I had spent most of my life playing, the music I had been rehearsing and working for so long to master, wishing it could turn into more, but it never did.

“He’s the one who landed an amazing woman,” Peter yelled from across the bar, grinning at me as he winked at me.

Sure, I was a pretty girl to look at. Wide hips and muscular legs made sure I had to buy jeans with a stretchy fabric so that I could actually move around. I had what Peter had called an ample bosom, which made sure my back was strong and gave me a great posture. Luckily, my boss gave me oversized t-shirts that I could wear, because drunk men could be bastards. My hair was blonde and was starting to lighten even more, reasoned the impending summer. It was cut short, so it just reached my shoulders. But the best thing about me, if I had to say so myself, was my sky blue eyes, which could either shine with happiness but also strike lightning with my rage.

“Now, Peter,” I grinned right back at him, shooting him a wink as well, “you know your compliments bring me to my knees.”

Peter’s middle-aged face lit up in a beaming smile, making something warm spread inside my chest. 

**

As the night progressed, there was a shift in patrons. The older patrons went home to grab a bite to eat, to relax with some television, and to go to bed early. Then the younger ones started to fiddle inside, and as usual, it was entertaining to watch. The young women who came through the doors—who were actually still little girls—looked like deer caught in headlights. While the men came bustling in through the doors like bulls, all loud and boisterous, the only thing that was wrong with the analogy was that they were on the hunt, like a lion searching for its next prey.

I observed a young man, one I hadn’t seen before. His hair was pitch black, his clothes just as dark—if not more—and his smile looked all wrong. The women who were dancing up against him were trying to gain his attention, doing whatever they had to do to get it. But something about him just seemed… off. Even if he looked at them, it didn’t seem like his attention was actually on them. He didn’t look like someone who was from here, not someone I could recognize. What rattled me the most was why all of those girls seemed desperate to get his attention compared to anyone else.

My head spun towards the doors where three men walked in. I couldn’t see their faces as their dark hoods were drawn down, shading them from the light. They were walking straight towards me, straight towards the bar, straight towards the register.

One of them stopped right in front of me, raising his gun right at my chest. “Give me the cash!” His voice boomed across the bar, the certainty in it making a shiver run down my spine.

I hurriedly directed my eyes towards the floor, slowly raising my hands above the bar, so that they could see them. I remembered my training on how to act if something like this ever happened to you. Don’t look at them! For everything holy in this world, they couldn’t think that I would be able to pick them out of a lineup. They needed to see my hands, so they knew I wasn’t contacting the police.

“Give me the goddamn money!” he yelled once again, making sure everyone noticed.

“Okay,” I answered, nodding my head slightly, keeping my eyes downcast, my hands high. “I need to grab a plastic bag for the money.” So goddamn slowly, I reached down towards the trash bags.

“Hurry up!”

I ripped off a bag, turning around to walk towards the register. My entire body locked down. Everything hurt. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It felt like my life was flashing behind my eyes. Pull yourself together! The register dinged as I opened it, my hand immediately starting to empty it into the bag. Behind me, I could hear the three men forcing everyone outside and the door slamming behind them.

I closed the bag tightly and turned back around. The three men were still standing there, one of them still holding the gun tightly.

“Here,” I answered, trying to stay as calm and direct as possible.

The guy with the gun grabbed the bag. “I’m sorry about this,” he mumbled, before they turned around and hurried out of the pub. The door slammed shut behind them.

Darkness took hold of me, locking my mind down, trying to calm me. My breathing got quicker and quicker as I was starting to hyperventilate. My eyesight turned smaller and smaller as pure rage flowed through me, the darkness trying to pull me into the lull I knew it provided.

My hands turned into fists as I clenched them as hard as I could; I could feel my fingernails cutting into my palms. My mouth opened, and through it came a scream; a scream I had never heard before. A sound so full of power, so full of numbness, so full of pure pain.

What a shitty fucking life.

The blue lights were flashing all around me, shining a light on the otherwise darkened street. My boss had arrived shortly after the robbery. Luckily, some of the patrons had called the police, because after the blood-curdling scream I had let out, my body was all drained of energy.

I looked up at the sky. The starry night sky was looking right back at me. The darkness in that was completely different from the darkness I had felt earlier. That darkness was pure rage. But this? This kind of darkness was beautiful, it was peaceful, it was quiet. The stars kept taking turns, shining down on me while the moon was bright, almost like it was controlling the rest of them. The night sky was so easy, so straightforward. It had always had a calming effect on me, just like it did now.

The darkness up there contained everything the world down here didn’t. There was a steadiness and an acceptance that you just didn’t find on earth. Here was nothing but chaos, nothing but noise, and everything just smelled and felt like shit.

I sighed, sinking onto the bench. My elbows rested on my knees, my gaze locked on my boss, who was talking to two police officers. Of course, he was considered about getting back his money, and I could understand that, but he could have asked if I was okay, he could have just checked in.

“Are you okay?” A dark voice, covered in some sort of accent, sounded from behind me.

I turned around, but wasn’t able to see much else besides the outline of his body, since the darkness seemed to surround him, shield him. I simply nodded at him, unable to make my tired and rundown body do anything else. For just a short while, it seemed like he looked at me, while I looked at his general direction, trying to figure out who the hell he was, but then he simply stepped back, disappearing into the darkness. That wasn’t creepy at all.

After talking to the police, I said goodbye to my boss and gave him my keys. I knew I wouldn’t be able to work behind the bar again, not after what happened tonight. I wouldn’t be able to feel safe behind the bar anymore, I wouldn’t be able to relax, and I would never be able to forget the sight of that gun pointed straight at me.

It seemed like he understood me completely, because he didn’t ask any questions, and he let me go home without any fuss.

**

I turned off the car outside our apartment building. With a heavy sigh, I leaned back into the seat. That sigh contained so many emotions, feelings of powerlessness, feelings of tiredness, feelings of relief. I could feel the happiness starting to take over—my brain choosing to focus on the good things in my life, wanting to look on the bright side of life.

Lucas and I were going to Ireland in a few days, a place where I could put all of this crappiness behind me. I could use all of my energy on sucking in positivity, on drawing from the happiness of a sunny sky, of happy Irish people. We had agreed that we needed a small getaway before it got too warm, the kind of temperature where you could feel comfortable walking around, seeing all of the nature and culture Ireland had to offer. And I was especially excited to see their big Summer Fest, the one where they welcomed summer in a traditional Irish way.

The cool air started to seep into the car, but you could clearly feel the summer approaching quickly. And with the summer, my birthday also came. It was almost eerily quiet, too quiet. On payday, you could usually hear people partying, having fun, and getting rowdy, but you could hear nothing but the quietness of the night.

The slam of the cardoor was deafening.

I moved towards the door of the building, the bricks were a striking red color, and the building was three stories tall. The ones on the ground level had a bit of a garden as well, where all we had was a small balcony. I had tried to grow so many different things there, but it either got too much sun or not enough sun. I simply didn’t have the green thumb.

The stairs felt unbearable as always. My legs felt like jello already, and now they had to be exposed to an absurd amount of steps. My right hand followed me on the banister, basically pulling me upwards. Sooner than I thought, I hit the third floor, and with only four attempts, my key hit the lock.

Noise came from inside the apartment, like someone was struggling or something. I opened up the door, and Lucas came tumbling out of the bedroom, only halfway dressed. “Hey, beautiful!” He seemed out of breath for some odd reason. “You’re home early.”

I threw my stuff on the ground right there in our hallway, before my arms lifted to envelope him in a hug. Everything I needed was his love, his kisses, his hugs, his tongue, and his…

“Hey, Luna!” My head turned to find Carol, who was sitting, barely covered by the comforter on my bed.

“Hey, Carol?” I could practically feel my head spinning, trying to keep up. Halloooo?! Wake up! “What are you guys doing?” My eyes went from Carol back to Lucas, who was also looking back and forth between us, but never meeting my eyes.

Like if lightning hit me, my body suddenly started moving. My hand hit his cheek with a humongous smack. I hurried further into the bedroom and quickly grabbed my suitcase, before I started shoving my clothes into it.

Carol shifted slightly on the bed. Carol. My best fucking friend since middle school. How long had she been fucking my fiancé? Honestly, no, I didn’t want to know.

“Luna,” Lucas started, as he stood in the doorway to our bedroom, still halfway naked.

As an answer to that, I simply took off my ring, throwing it at him with the single intent of hurting him. Tears started gathering in my eyes. I had to fucking hurry.

“It wasn’t supposed to make you upset,” he tried.

He didn’t even have the decency to flinch when my gaze landed on him. I was fucking boiling with rage. “What the hell was I supposed to be then? Huh, Lucas?!” I threw my arms up, the feelings simply overflowing inside of me. “Should I be happy? Should I have asked if I could join, or if it was supposed to be just the two of you?” I pushed my shoulder into him as I walked past him to the bathroom. “You can have fucking everything, do what you want, I don’t give a damn.”

Inside the bathroom, I threw all of my toiletries into a bag. Basically just taking my toothbrush, my deodorant, and my other small things. I went into the bedroom again, where Carol was now dressed in a t-shirt and her minuscule thong. She was everything I wasn’t. She was skinny, had long brown hair that waved down her back. She had a gigantic ass, one that all men just needed to have a piece of.

I shut my suitcase and dragged it across the floor. I turned towards Lucas. “The rest you’re gonna send home to my mom,” I said, while I could still keep the tears inside. “I don’t wanna look at you anymore.” My gaze turned to Carol once again, who looked not to even be affected by it. “And I definitely don’t wanna look at you either.”

The door slammed behind me again, and now I was in the hallway yet again. Where was I supposed to go? Going home to my mother would be admitting defeat; she would know she was right. But was there anywhere else to go?

What a shitty fucking life.