Before she slithered backstage, I caught a glimpse of the girl I'd soon be seeing everywhere I went. I only saw the back of her head; it was covered in a mop of curly brown hair stuffed under a baseball cap.
Most likely she was going to throw herself at the band members of Aqua Dia who had just exited the stage. Although, she didn't look like the average groupie they got- but then again, neither was my ex-girlfriend Lilly.
Aqua Dia was the house band on Fridays and Saturdays at The Inferno.
Bartending was an interesting job. Compared to my past jobs, it was the most eventful. I had a few regular customers who I cherished; they paid my electric bills with their generous tips. Then there were the people looking to drink away their troubles, mostly relationship problems. I was empathetic. Their drunkenness and my relatability sometimes lead to them tipping me $10.
Darnell was the only guy from Aqua Dia who didn't drink. The rest of the guys drank a great deal. I found it a bit strange that someone would be great friends with heavy drinkers but be so opposed to it.
It was no surprise to me that Darnell got all the women. He was from Africa, according to a super-fan who drank at the club one day. His facial features were very flattering and his skin wasn't too dark. His build was muscular, something I found most women wanted.
I wasn't very muscular, though at one point in my life I had gone through an obsession with being ripped. From that period, I had acquired a small amount of muscle in my arms.
My hair fell down around my shoulders and produced oily skin on my face.
My eyes were the one thing I liked about my physical appearance. They were plain brown, but I liked them that way. They reminded me of my mother's. She died years ago in Puerto Rico, before dad moved our family to Ohio.
My skin makes me look like I went to a tanning salon and stayed in too long.
Back to Darnell: overall, he's the perfect guy. All the women I meet who see him rocking on stage want to be with him.
My ex-girlfriend fell for him. Lilly. I haven't seen her since.
With curiosity, I walked a few steps towards the backstage area, but then stopped. I had some work to do.
"Hey Toby. How's it going with Mary?" I asked as I poured him his usual Budweiser.
"Not great, Paulo. I'm here, right?"
"True." I slide him the mug and propped myself upon my elbows. "She still wants to get married?"
"Yep." Toby swallowed and sighed heavily. "I'm not ready for that kind of commitment yet."
"I understand. I have to go top off Bill over there. Be right back, bud."
I grabbed a bottle of Miller Lite from the fridge swiftly and filled Bill's mug to the brim.
"How life besides the girl issues?"
"All right, I'd say. The job is going well. Heard back from Lilly?"
"Ha!" I laughed bitterly. "Not planning on it either."
"Aw, come on! Is Darnell really that much of a stud?"
"Apparently," I nodded towards two chattering women when Toby looked up from his beer.
"More women to victimize?"
"Is he really victimizing? They walk to him willingly. Except for Taylor, our hostess."
"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Toby asked in genuine surprise. I shook my head. "She's not into dudes." Toby didn't need to raise his eyebrows for shift his head in Taylor's direction. She was chatting with an eccentric looking blonde.
"So she wouldn't consider Darnell. Whatever! Everyone else does!"
"He can't take all the girls, man." Toby smacked his lips together. They were moist from his alcoholic drink. "So he snatched up Lilly. You can't help it she's a whore." He waved his hand in the air, not yet drunk but still swaying with the slight movement. "But...you can help yourself." Toby took a swig and looked me in the eyes. "You work at a freakin' club!" His arms jumped up and his stool rocked with him back and forth.
I reached out and grabbed a hold on his forearm. I tugged him upright and held him there until I felt it was safe to let go.
"What I was getting at..." he paused to compose his face, "you're surrounded by women ever night."
"Not with Aqua Dia here." I said doubtfully.
"They're only here a couple days a week. You have no excuse!"
"Okay, okay." I surrendered. "I'll try."
"What about her?" Toby asked and again motioned to the backstage door. My eyes widened. It was miss bush-hair-baseball-cap.
"Naw, I'm not feeling anything." I lied in a passive tone. In truth, she intimidated me. "She's the first girl I've ever seen leave the door." I said flatly in realization.
"Come on, there must be others who have walked back into the club. Or they used the back door." Toby suggested.
"Maybe." I said with heavy doubt.
"I should get going. Mary is going to be mad if I'm here later than ten-thirty."
"She's that strict?"
"She gets suspicious." He rolled his eyes. "Anyways, thanks man." He set down his money plus a two-dollar tip. "Don't forget to look around." He pointed his finger sternly at me.
"Sure, sure." I waved him off and nodded. When he was satisfied with my response, he left and I continued to bartend.
When I looked up from drying a glass with the off-white rag, she was there. I almost thought she wasn't real- an illusion.
Her eyes were a striking green color, almost as if she had specks of neon mixed with the base color of olive. Her hair, to her mid-back, hung around her face. Her curls stayed in place and looked perfect. Her skin wasn't sheet white, but ivory. A creamy color that made her eyes pop. Her lips were thin, but were angular and sharp. They were a pale rose color. I couldn't detect any makeup on her face.
"Water please." She said firmly and immediately glanced at the counter when she saw me staring.
"Coming up," I managed to say and turned around eagerly. I had thought she was intimidating before, when she was a safe distance away. Now she was absolutely terrifying. "Here." I said shortly and placed it in front of her.
"What? No conversation like you had with the shorty?" She snickered and sipped from the glass. The shorty she was referring to was Toby. Being vertically challenged ran in his genes.
"I'm sorry?" I asked in shock.
"You usually chat up a storm with all your customers. I've noticed. Even that guy on occasion, the bum." She pointed at Bill. "Why won't you give me the pleasure of getting to know the bartender of The Inferno?"
"I don't know...pretty girls intimidate me." It was true that she intimidated me, but pretty was not the right word, and I could not believe it even came out of my mouth. She was shocking and almost frightening. Yes, she was pretty, but also something more than that.
She laughed. It sounded like she was laughing at some private joke.
"I'm pretty, am I?" She drank deeply from the cup of water.
"Yeah," I muttered and used the cloth to clean the counter. Joel, another usual, had left a mess of peanut shells on the red countertop.
"Your name?" She changed the subject much to my relief.
"Paulo." I couldn't help but add my natural accent when I said it.
"Paulo," she imitated with perfection. My eyes widened, but I kept them focused on the counter. "I'm Kit."
"Is it short for anything?" I asked curiously. I hadn't ever heard of anyone named Kit.
"No, I was just named Kit." Her eyes were distant now. She was reliving memories I'd never know.