"Whiskey, neat ... double shot." The guy throws his money on the counter, I instinctively grab it and walk towards the register to print out a slip. Then I put it in front of that baldhead jerk together with his change... Yup, I do give people «names», and yeah I love running conversations in my head, you know.

I turn around and fill up the glass to an imaginary «line», singing one of the Muse's songs under my breath.

"Here you are." I put the glass in front of him, grab the rag towel and get back to wiping off the water I spilled earlier.

"Hey, sweetie, are you sure you're old enough to work in a bar?" He says quite sarcastically.

I hem... that question takes me back to the other day.

***

"Back me up, Chloe, I've got some stuff to do." Neal...my big brother Neal, I smile at him, nod and turn to customers.

And here it goes – cash...cocktails... names of alcohol... two broken glasses and a spilled liquor.

I am so in love with this place, every time I get a chance I come here, my beloved and the only brother I have - Neal, own this bar. I enjoy being here, watch people get drunk and discuss the world's existence 'n stuff. That's kinda fun, you know, to see all those girls come here with their boyfriend and leave with a stranger I mean no TV show would ever be more captivating than that.

"Freedom" now this bar is a quite interesting mix of soap operas, bloody fights and "BBC animal planet."

Through the sound of music, I hear that beautiful low voice. "Whiskey, neat.... double shot." It interrupts my watching a couple that was about to quarrel.

I turn to him with a sour face, and the first thing I see is that dark wavy hair. He sits there, head down, considering something.

What is it? Has his wife dumped him? No...there's no wedding ring ...maybe a girlfriend. Yup, he came home to see her "Netflix and chill" with another guy, got them killed and now he's thinking how to get rid of the bodies...

Oh, yeah, I've got good imagination. I giggle.

I see money lying on the counter while printing out the slip I notice that the guy looks different from the people that usually come here.

Most of our visitors are Latinos, students and, you know, ordinary people. But this one ... he is definitely a representative of a "jet set" of Dallas. Everything in him, especially that "Rolex" on his strong wrist, says...no shouts out loud: "Yeah, babe, I'm rich". He is so much into sports – I can say that for sure when seeing those muscles through the thin white shirt he's wearing. His hands with long tightly interlocked fingers are on the counter.

He has such a damn handsome profile, well, okay, except for that crooked nose...but the funny thing is – it actually looks good on him, and that bristles, gosh, he's hot.

If I follow the horror movie's logic – a murderer must be as handsome as can be – to attract their victims. I bet this one has quite a list of broken and stolen hearts ... or dissected bodies.

"Your whiskey, please." I put his order in front of him together with the change.

He empties his glass of a strong drink, benches and places his empty glass on the counter. Nah, definitely things are going wrong with that guy, and he's trying to drown his sorrows.

I wait till his face gets the same expression he had at first, the stranger opens his eyes and stares at me...

Yup, that crooked nose doesn't make him look worse vice versa it makes him look strong...I can feel his charm and sexual magnetism. I smile at him ... thanks god, he can't read my dirty mind.

I bet he could have any woman he wants. I wonder how old he is. Thirty? Or does he look so young just because of plastic surgeries?

"One more." He places his glass back on the counter and takes a brief glance at the money, yes, there will be enough to get at least five more double shots.

"No problem," I shrug and place a new portion of whiskey in front of him.

He empties the glass, takes a deep breath and sits there holding his empty glass...

"Hey babe, a pitcher of beer for me, "my thoughts were interrupted by a cute Latino guy.

I turn around, take a glass and walk towards beer taps to fill it up. I've been helping my bro as a bartender for three years already since I was sixteen, this is something I'm used to, so I'm quite confident and calm doing this as well as brushing the annoying guys off.

Someone's staring at me... I can feel that with my skin. I take a look aside and notice the blue-eyed guy watching me...Having the glass wiped with a napkin, I place it in front of a visitor on a coaster, waiting for him to pay.

"How much?" He drawls. I point on a chalkboard behind my back that shows all the prices.

"Here ...you can have the change." He takes out the wallet with that sugary smile and puts five bucks on a table. I put on a slight "go-to-hell" smile on my face just for a sec, walk towards the cash register to print out a slip and put all the money in a cash register. Tips. I hem; I wish he knew I don't need 'em.

"Anything else?" I ask the guy staring at me with his piercing blue eyes. Are they actually blue? Or maybe they are grey... or green? I can't tell that for sure 'cuz there's not enough light in a bar to see that. But somehow, I thought about that particular color.

I felt like talking to him, finding out how's it going and make sure I was right in my crazy thoughts.

Well, actually, I don't usually talk to visitors, there's no need to do that, I mean, under the influence of alcohol, they give away all the info without asking.

"Hey, babe, are you sure you're old enough to work here?" He suddenly says.

"Why? Are you a cop or something?" I sneer.

"Would you like to be arrested?" He gives that seductive half-smile and gets closer to a bar, and sets his hands against the bar counter. My heart skips a beat... I swallow.

***

"Hey, Chloe." My brother's hand on my shoulder brings me back from my memories.

"Are you sure you won't be late for your plane?" My brother asks, and I notice that the guy is gone... I was dreaming...again...

Sometimes I think: why do we need this mental ability; I mean I'd prefer to have a short memory.

"Oh, don't worry. I got my luggage with me, Mel will pick me up in..." I look at the clock on the wall. "Damn! Ten minutes ago!"

Neal burst out laughing, I rush to the staff room, grab my luggage and my bag, just a few seconds later I give a kiss to my brother and run out the door.

"Have fun there. Just don't forget to text me and, yeah, use condoms, girl!" I stick my tongue out to him.

I walk out of the bar and see Mel smoking by her Mercedes.

"Girl, that thing will kill ya one day," I reproach.

"Darling, I am more likely to be killed by global warming rather than by that sweet taste of tobacco." She throws the cigarette away and step on it.

"Open the trunk," I say, and she helps me to put my suitcase in it.

"Where's your stuff?" I am surprised.

"Well ... I guess, it's high time to get myself a couple of new outfits," Mel shrugs, and I giggle.

"Ok. Let's go," we jump in the car.

Our plan for the next month is a vacation in New York, and of course, we were going to see our Uni. That's gonna be fun!

I take a look at Mel, she sings along the "One Direction" that's on the radio, I close my eyes.

It's time to forget everything. The most exciting things and a new life are waiting for me out there in amazing, filled up with magic vibes city of New York. I am a great fan of "Breakfast at Tiffany's" by the way.

That is funny how things went out for us. We graduated from school, became prom queens. We've got our places at the New York University, business faculty quite easily ... well ok, we did it thanks to a certain amount of money and got a room in a dorm at Manhattan. Again, not without the help of money. Our damn corrupted society, it's in our blood, but anyways I don't care 'baut that.

I can hardly believe I can finally say "goodbye" to the girl I used to be. No more memories, no more regrets. I'm leaving for a place where no one knows me, where I can start a new life with my own rules.

But I can't say I ever lived acc. to someone else's rules and wishes. Our parents got divorced when I wasn't even three years old, I've never seen my father since that, but we regularly get quite an amount of money from him. He has also left a big house for us to live in and pays for our school and our bills. Each of us got a credit card, and every month our daddy adds not less than a thousand bucks to it.

He has also helped Neal to start a Bar business... I should say that, yes, I do sometimes feel like talking to him, not that I wanted to complain or something ... just small talk, but our parents had this agreement, you know, not to see each other ever again. Money rules, to be honest mom got paid for not interfering in daddy's new wonderful life.

Eight years ago, mom got married again to a guy that has a good business of his own, and they've moved to a new place in a luxury district, and my brother and I we stayed at our home together with our maids and a housekeeper. Of Course, we visit our mom at her place from time to time.

Oh, that wonderful feeling of freedom. I don't actually get it when guys complain about living with only one or without parents. I mean everyone's happy, especially my bro and I. No one's forcing you or pushing you to do something, no one says when to come home or where to go 'n stuff, besides that makes you become wiser and learn to make decisions, to understand life and what exactly you want to get from your life. As for me – I am planning to run my own restaurant, get a house somewhere on a beach and enjoy my life... but to get all of that I need to learn how to build my own imperia... and Mel... well she's going to deal with investment...

My sweet Mel...

I bet she'd got me killed if she knew I call her sweetie.

She looks like a blue-eyed angel... but as they say "never judge a book by its cover" when you look at her, you will never believe that she is actually such a little devil that pulls an all-nighter.

Everything is as clear as crystal with her parents. She's been living with her mom and stepdad since she was born. She never knows her father. Mel calls him a "donor". Sometimes I feel sorry for her; she just doesn't get it – life becomes so easier when you accept its rules.

Oh, shut up, Chloe

"What? What is it?" Says Mel, noticing my sight at her.

We take a turn and drive to the parking at the airport.

"Oh, nothing ... Just thought we're gonna kill New York. Baby," we burst out laughing.

"Oh, yeah, Big Apple, we're coming!" We hop laughing.

Well it's time to say "goodbye" to all of my mistakes, and decisions I made, I can't say I feel sorry about anything I ever did, but it's time to forget it.

Hello, new life, Chloe Coleman coming!