On the fifth day of Christmas, we made a toast to pain.

"I'm completely done with relationships and men!" I growled, downing the drink I ordered. I then slammed the glass harshly back on the counter, "Those pricks only wants one thing and once they get it, they're gone."

The bartender stared worriedly at me as he held a bottle, ready to pour the second I tell him to. I'm guessing that because I've called him up too many times to refill my glass, he was prepared to be told so.

I would be concerned as well if I was him. I mean, what else will you feel when a woman who looked like she belonged to a ball suddenly marched up into a bar and grumpily ask for a drink. It wasn't even one of those high-class bars – no, it was one of those where one would see other people drink their sorrows away.

I slept with a guy, stupidly believing that he loved me, only to find out that he was no longer interested.

He could have told me that before I spent over a thousand bucks trying to make myself look good for our date. I seriously thought that he would be proposing to me tonight, but nope, he just told me the big news that we were breaking up.

Not even bothering to reply, I took my purse and gave him a very painful slap on the cheek in the middle of a five-star restaurant before strutting away. I hailed a taxi and told the driver to bring me to the nearest bar and that was how I ended up here.

I should have listen to my brother when he said that this relationship wouldn't end well.

Finally gesturing to the glass, the bartended filled it and added the order to my growing tab.

"Oh what would I give for a kind and decent man," I mumbled, swirling the alcohol in the glass, watching the translucent liquid.

"If I were you, I wouldn't be giving anything so easily," the bartender chuckled, trying to elicit any kind of reaction that wasn't near the word bitter. It backfired though, as the only thing he earned from me was a dirty look.

He threw his hands up in mock surrender, "Only trying to make you smile."

"Thanks," I muttered dryly, "But you don't see me laughing, do you?

"You must have really loved that guy," he pointed out, leaning against the counter.

"You have no idea," I said, taking a sip of my drink, "I shouldn't have though."

He smiled, before setting the bottle back down, "Well, you shouldn't regret loving anyone."

I lifted a brow towards him and perched my chin on the back of my hand with my elbow resting on the counter, "And why's that?"

"Because in that time, even if it was short, you felt joy and bliss," he explained with a knowing smirk, "And I think that's amazing."

Only for your heart to be crushed into a million pieces afterwards.

Looking up to him, I quirked my head to the side with a challenging gaze, "How many people have you said that line to?"

He shrugged instead of replying, "I like to think that giving people love advice is part of my job description."

"How delightful," I said in monotone voice, "So what's the reason you're here working a night shift in a stuffy bar instead of going out in a date if you're such a love guru."

"I need to pay the bills somehow," he answered lightheartedly.

Another customer at the end of the bar called him up to order a drink. Chancing a look, I observed as the woman just tilted her head back to down the glass as quickly as the bartended filled it. Her friend kept rubbing soothing circles around her back but it was fruitless, the woman was a hair length away from tears and judging from her swollen eyes, I could assume that she did a great deal of that already.

Poor girl, whatever she was going through surely couldn't pretty.

Let us suffering romantics make a toast to our treacherous loves.

My phone that was sitting next to my glass lit up with my ex-lover's name flashed on the screen. With a scowl, I picked it up and glared at his name with all the distaste in the world.

The bastard had the nerve to call me.

I contemplated first before finally giving in and tapped on the green icon, "I don't want to see you."

"Where are you?" I heard him ask from the other line, "I'm worried because you just fled away."

It was as if the whole scenario in the restaurant never happened because just from the concern that was in his voice, I was already on my way to forgive him. The thought that I was easily swayed by the mere tone of his voice made me groan involuntarily.

That sound was what signaled the charming bartender and he easily took the phone from my hand and pressed it against his ear, "She's with me now."

My eyes widened at his actions without a trace of hesitation, he ended the call and placed the phone back down on the counter in front of me. I blinked at the happenings before quirking a brow, "Is taking phone calls for your customers also part of your job description?"

He smiled goofily at this and shook his head, "Nope, but trying to save a woman from getting herself heartbroken by the same guy for the second time seems like a gentlemanly thing to do."

"Fair enough," I nodded in agreement, lifting my glass before deciding that chugging it all down in one go wasn't the way to make me feel any better. Taking a slow slip this time, I looked around and noticed that there was a significant lesser number of people compared to the time I came in.

"You're not the only one having a rough night," he spoke when he saw my roaming gaze.

"You know we've been together for more than a year," I sighed, thinking that talking things out will get these thoughts out of my head.

Perhaps the alcohol was finally getting to me.

When I switched my attention to him, he appeared to be relatively calm and patient. He had probably experienced this a hundred times before due to his job – seeing a person bathing in misery could be a normal occurrence in his part.

"We met at this club and he asked me to dance," I started, my finger tracing the rim of my glass, "We then..."

"Did it?" he asked when I paused.

Shaking my head, I denied his guess, "We didn't go all the way, because I didn't want to do it with just some random guy I met a few hours ago."

He nodded in understanding, waiting for me to continue.

"Maybe that was what fueled him," I muttered, drinking again my almost-forgotten alcoholic drink, "It wasn't that I was shy to do it, but the opportunity never rose."

Well that was before a serious events happened. One morning, I woke up with my clothes strewn all over the floor and his naked form buried in the sheets right beside me. It took me a mental pep talk before I finally told myself that this might be the start of something wonderful.

I was proven wrong on so many levels, "Then his pride got the boost he wanted and goodbye me."

Like before, he remained silent and didn't even wait for me to gesture to my glass when he refilled it. Once I drank all of the contents, he just grabbed the bottle and poured me another round.

"To be fair, that same pride is taking quite a beating because he thinks that you were able to easily replace him on the day you broke up," he pointed out in another attempt to lift my mood.

I tilted my glass towards his direction, signaling that I was happy with that reasoning, "Then how about you?"

He looked up at me and raised a brow, silently questioning what I meant. The corners of my mouth pulled up into a sly smile, "There must be a story behind those cheeky love advices, attentive listening, and mad bartending skills."

"Isn't it usually from the other side of the counter that tells the story?" he chuckled, clearly avoiding the subject.

Shaking my head, I pushed my glass away, finally finishing it for the last time before I laced my fingers together, "We're breaking the norms here. Besides, after tonight, there's a possibility that we may never see each other again."

"You make a good point," he nodded, before shrugging, "Well, what do you want to know?"

"Anything that you want to tell me."

He took a minute to think of the right words to start with but when a darkened expression dominated his features, I knew that whatever he was to tell wouldn't end well, "I was engaged."

Oh dear, from the tone of his voice, this was going to be tragic.

"Met and started dating in college," he continued, his hand unconsciously running over the rim of the wine glass hanging over the shelf, "I proposed a few months after graduation, complete with the rose petals on the bed and all that other crap."

"Romantic," I interrupted with a smirk, "Nice."

He released a small laugh, before continuing, "Yeah and she said yes. I had some speculations that she was cheating and that sort but I kept it to myself."

"What's this?" I snorted, "A love novel?"

"It felt that way," he muttered and I felt the sadness and heartbreak that had managed to seep back into his system, "Went back home to the apartment we shared a little earlier than usual and then saw her in bed with the supposed best man."

Yup, totally sound like a love novel filled with your daily amount of angst.

Before he could say something, I butt in once again, "And you broke up with her."

He nodded before turning back to me and I finally saw how empty those eyes were. There were no emotions present, lacking the cheery and encouraging twinkle it sported earlier. They were glazed in a way to mirror his feelings – void of anything after experiencing his heart being ripped out.

"I loved her," he admitted boldly, "I was in love with her."

My eyes casted downwards as he shook his body, trying to get rid of the wave of sorrow that overcame him. Tapping my long nails on the table, I bit my lip and sighed.

We were both damned with love as we faced each other in this bar.

He looked up at the clock and just in time, another man went inside and nodded curtly towards him. He turned to me, already undoing his white apron, "Looks like my shift is almost over."

I reached out and took my purse, grabbing my credit card and setting it down on the counter, "Thank you for the night, I really had a fun time."

"That's something you're supposed to say to a guy after a date," he chuckled.

I gestured to my outfit and grinned, "I'm already dressed for the occasion."

With an amused smirk, he slid my credit card and did the transaction. As the machine was doing its job, he reached up and took two clean wine glasses. His hands then danced over the selection of red wines inside the glass chiller, his fingers landing on one specific bottle before he brought it out.

Pouring some of its contents into the two glasses, he snatched my credit card and receipt on the way back to me. Setting everything on the counter, he slid the card and receipt to my direction while also gesturing for me to take the wine glass, "Here."

"I didn't order this," I spoke, lightly grazing the neck of the glass with my nail.

"On me," he assured, raising his glass, "When you're on a fancy date, don't you usually make a toast?"

A large grin set itself on my face as I took the glass, lifting it up close to his, "Alright then."

"Let us make a toast to pain," he stated, a smile on his face, "And may our suffering hearts find their solace."

After addressing the pain coming from my present predicament and the heartbreak from his past love, our glasses clinked against each other as our eyes remained on each other's. We drank it all, letting the smooth alcohol swish on our taste buds before finally swallowing it all down.

Packing my things and grabbing my coat that was hanging on the stool next to the one I was occupying, I hopped down from my seat and looked at him expectantly, "Walk me out?"

Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as his co-worker emerged from the backdoor and this signaled that his shift was officially over. He nodded to my request and rounded up the counter, walking next to me in silence as we went outside the bar and into the cold night.

I tried to push the guilt that was trying to poke itself through when I stared at him, the white long sleeved shirt did almost nothing to protect him from this merciless weather. Still, when we saw a cab approach, he lifted up a hand to call it.

"Will we see each other again?" he questioned, rubbing his hands together before stuffing them inside his pockets, "And if so, when?"

"When we no longer feel the pain that we are suffering from," I let out with a small smile just as the taxi stopped right in front of us. Walking to it, he sweetly opened the door for me and waited until I was safely inside, "'Till we meet again."

He smirked, gripping the door handle tightly, "And maybe then, it would be a toast to happiness."

With that, he closed the door and the driver slowly pulled away. My eyes stayed glued to the side mirror, watching as the man's image slowly became smaller until he was no longer visible.

Maybe getting my heart completely shattered tonight wasn't such a bad thing. If it never got the fate it had, I may have never sprinted out of that restaurant and may have never met that kind and charming bartender.

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I'm so sorry that this was up super late. In fact, it's already morning and I usually put them up at night. My university had their annual Christmas fair or something and I came home super late and tired that I just crashed. I'll still update tonight!