CHAPTER 003 - Eva; The Downfall Of Men

The neon lights outside the tavern flickered, casting an eerie glow on the dimly lit street. Shin parked his car in front of the two-story establishment, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses emanating from within. Through the glass wall, he could see the lively scene—women in eye-catching attire, men with beards and mustaches, all reveling in the Friday night festivities.

I guess I won't have my private table tonight, he thought.

Turning his attention away from the vibrant atmosphere inside, Shin reached for his leather jacket in the backseat and wore it. The dark garment served as a disguise, concealing the intricate tattoos on his back and left arm. Clothed in a simple black A-shirt, the large back tattoo and the sleeve tattoo on his left arm were usually on display. However, tonight they required discretion. No one in the tavern knew he was a gangster— let alone a mob boss. And he intended to keep it that way to protect his privacy. He couldn't afford to attract any unwanted attention if people in the tavern knew about it...

The Cricket's Tavern had always been his refuge ever since he discovered the art of drinking. Even before he became a member of the Titans, he frequented the place every night, and he was well-known by all the staff.

Situated at the southern boundary between the City of Yllanas and the town of Bañes, it was a typical tavern that attracted travelers, tourists, and those seeking a peaceful place to enjoy their beer. Positioned by the highway leading to the city, with rice fields at its rear, it stood as the sole establishment in the vicinity.

The Cricket's Tavern, a two-story establishment crafted from luxurious wood, boasted a unique blend of rustic and Western themes. On the second floor, a wrap-around balcony adorned the exterior. This elevated space held a table reserved exclusively for him every Saturday night, providing him with a commanding view of the surroundings.

However, it being Friday, the tavern was bustling with customers, and he anticipated standing in the corner of the balcony, content to gaze out over the nearby rice fields. The vibrant atmosphere and lively conversations inside created a welcoming ambiance that drew patrons seeking a delightful evening.

He turned off the car engine and glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. Adjusting his jacket, he sensed a familiar bulge in its pocket, prompting him to reach down and slip his hand into it. Retrieving a small, transparent plastic containing heroin powder, he unzipped it, poured a measured amount onto the back of his palm, and snorted it. With his eyes tightly closed, he leaned his head against the headrest, savoring the warmth and contentment that enveloped him.

Minutes later, he opened his eyes and sat upright. Bending over the dashboard, he opened it and tossed the half-full plastic inside. He glanced at himself again in the rearview mirror, adjusted his long hair, and then opened the car door to step out.

With hands in his pockets, he walked to the entrance of the tavern as if he owned the place. As a mob boss— a criminal— he was accustomed to walking silently, ensuring no one would notice him. However, his aura was strong enough for the majority of the customers to stop talking when he walked in. 

The moment he stepped inside, the music from the stage in the corner and the animated conversations of patrons enjoying their drinks greeted him. Tables were decorated with large barrels of beer, bottles of imported whiskey, and a towering Margarita dispenser.

As he glanced at the female customers seated at the table where he noticed the Margarita tower, a secret grin crept across his face when he saw them discreetly looking at him and whispering to each other. They appeared to be college students from the city—spoiled and wealthy, clad in short skirts and provocative clothing.

Shame… But he never liked college girls.

He flashed a lopsided smirk at them, expressing his disinterest. As he continued towards the bar counter, he deftly maneuvered through the customers, acknowledging their curious glances. Alfred, the familiar face behind the bar, looked up from cleaning a glass with a white cloth.

"Hey," Alfred greeted, "It's only Friday, Boss. You usually show up on Saturday nights. What's the deal?"

He gave him a slight grin. "The usual, please."

"Right away," he replied, then glanced at the bottles behind the counter.

"Is my table upstairs available?"

"No, it's not reserved, boss. If you had called and said you'd be dropping by tonight, I would've reserved it for you," Alfred said, taking a bottle of Kamikaze and looking back at him. "Why did you come by tonight anyway? We're used to seeing you on Saturdays."

He shrugged and leaned on the counter. "I was bored, so I thought I'd drop by."

Alfred grinned and poured alcohol into two shot glasses. "In that case, where would you like to sit? That's where I'll bring your order." He approached with the two shot glasses and placed them in front of him.

He took one and drank it, then the next. After finishing the two shots, he answered, "Keep 'em coming. I'll be on the balcony." He turned around, maneuvered through the customers again, and headed to the stairs.

He was sweating; he was feeling the heat. After snorting heroin and downing two shots of Kamikaze in quick succession, the tavern, packed with people, offered no breathing space. He needed the balcony, a breath of fresh air. His body was already responding to the effects of what he had inhaled earlier, and typically, all he needed to do to calm his nerves was to close his eyes and relax his mind.

He swiftly ascended the stairs, only to halt midway when he saw a drunken man pressed against the wall at the top of the stairs. A frown creased his forehead as he wondered what had occurred. Intent on continuing, he was about to take the next step when a woman came into view. His attention was immediately captured by her black velvet high-heeled boots. Squinting slightly, his gaze traveled up her slender legs, reaching the red leather shorts she wore. Notably, a large circular tattoo—a vivid red dragon—decorated her right leg.

As his eyes traveled higher, he observed the see-through sheer top she wore, exposing the intricate details of her black lacy bra and revealing a tattoo on the left side of her ribcage. The specifics of the tattoo were incomprehensible, but they seemed to be a substantial phrase...

Lifting his gaze further to her face, the vibrant red of her lips immediately captured his attention, complemented by the silky black hair fashioned into a casual bun. 

The woman's entire getup oozed a mysterious allure that intrigued him.

His train of thought came to a sudden halt when he saw the woman stepping closer to the man. She squatted in front of him, tugging at his collar.

"I fucking told you never to use cocaine when we have a gig! How can I benefit from you later, you fucking pig?" she exclaimed.

For a second there, he found himself mesmerized by the sound of her voice. It was...husky. As if she just got up from bed after a long night of hot, wild sex.

"I couldn't help it, Eva," replied the man seated on the floor, leaning against the wall. He was obviously wasted.

Eva, the woman, stood upright. She then ran her long fingers through her hair in frustration, causing her hairpin to detach, ruining her bun. But it seemed she didn't notice. She appeared stressed and worried. "Damn it, I'm going solo because you messed up again! I'm really going to replace you!" She then delivered a slight kick to the man's foot, who winced in response.

If what she said was true about the cocaine, the man wouldn't feel any pain no matter how much she kicked him. 

He shifted his attention back to the woman who had just retrieved something from the back pocket of her leather shorts. It turned out to be a stainless cigarette case. She opened it, took a stick, and shoved the case back into her pocket. She then fumbled through another pocket, presumably searching for a lighter. But when she couldn't find it, she cursed in frustration.

He took the lighter from the pocket of his leather jacket, and with practiced ease, he flicked it open and ignited the flame.

"Here," he uttered, offering it to the woman.

Her response was nonchalant. She turned to him, seemingly unfazed by his presence. Her focus was on the lighter which she used to set the tip of her cigarette ablaze. After taking a few puffs, she delicately removed the cigarette from her lips and exhaled smoke upward. Only then did she finally glance at him. When their eyes met, Shin found himself unable to resist a smile, especially when he noticed the subtle arch of her eyebrow as she scrutinized him.

"Thanks," she said after a while, her gaze sweeping over him from head to toe. When her eyes returned to his face, she took another puff of her cigarette, maintaining eye contact.

He only averted his gaze off her when he noticed the man the woman had confronted earlier attempting to stand behind her. He was on shaky legs, struggling to maintain his balance. "Eva, I'll make it up to—"

The woman didn't let the man finish what he wanted to say when she skillfully pivoted towards the man, giving him a right kick that sent him down the stairs. 

He watched as the man tumbled to the bottom landing— if the customers hadn't been there climbing up, he might have gone straight down and hit his head on the concrete floor. Luckily, one of the customers caught him and yelled for help.

He shifted his gaze back to the woman, but to his dismay, she was no longer standing beside him. Instead, she was making her way to the corner, where the office of the tavern owner was located. As he turned his attention back to the scene below, he noticed the accusatory stares from the customers assisting the man. Letting out a sigh, he stepped back and walked toward the exit door leading to the balcony.

They blamed him for what happened to the man. 

But he knew all the staff there; he had been a customer for more than a decade. He could easily explain himself, so he wasn't really worried at all.

As he stepped onto the balcony, the cool night air instantly filled his lungs. Leaning on the baluster, he let his gaze wander across the starry sky. The breeze was refreshing, and the spot he chose provided a panoramic view of the expansive rice fields below.

The balcony, circling the entire building, spanned a width of two meters. Circular tables in that area were spaced out. At the back corner, he had his reserved spot, facing the dark expanse of the rice fields. Glancing over it, he saw a couple sitting there engaged in conversation with a bottle of wine between them. He shifted his attention back to the rice fields, closed his eyes, and all he could visualize were those enticing red lips and enigmatic eyes...

I wonder if she's willing to play fire with me...?

Surprised at his own thoughts, he opened his eyes and smirked. Perhaps he was just impressed by how badass she was. Clearly, she knew how to fight— that right kick she delivered earlier was flawless. Some of his own men would be embarrassed if they saw what she did. It was noteworthy, especially considering she was wearing heels at the time.

"Sir, here are the other two shots." 

The waiter's voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned to see the familiar face holding a tray with two filled shot glasses. He acknowledged the waiter with a nod, accepting one shot glass. With a swift motion, he downed the liquid, feeling the burn as it went down. After finishing the first, he returned the shot glass to the tray and proceeded to drink the second.

"Thanks, Felix," he said to the waiter. He reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a couple of bills, and handed a generous tip to the delighted waiter. "What happened to the guy who fell down the stairs earlier?"

"Ah, he's the drummer from the new band scheduled to perform tonight, Boss. Seems like he had a bit too much to drink. This is their first time here."

"I was on the stairs earlier when I overheard him arguing with the woman he was with," he stated. He couldn't ask Felix directly for more information about the woman.

"Ah, that's Eva, the vocalist from the new band. She was just talking to the owner a while ago. Seems like she had a disagreement with the guitarist, so she and the pianist will be performing solo tonight."

"I see." He nodded and thanked Felix for bringing his drinks.

He asked Felix to bring him two more shots. The waiter left, and he was about to shift his attention back to the sky when the beautiful music from the stage below echoed. It was followed by the familiar voice that had caught his attention earlier.

The ballad song continued, enchanting him, and he remained deeply engrossed until the beautiful voice pulled him in. Slowly, he walked towards the other side of the balcony, positioning himself in front of the glass wall that overlooked the lower part of the tavern.

And as he walked slowly, he savored every note of the soft, husky voice singing an old ballad song.

"Ohh, I've been to Georgia and California and anywhere I could run.

I took the hand of a preacher man and we made love in the sun.

But I ran out of places and friendly faces because I had to be free..."

The customers on the balcony also glanced at the glass wall, but their attention wasn't fully captivated by the singer; they were engrossed in their own conversations and drinks. 

Hands in his pockets, he positioned himself in the middle of the balcony, his focus solely on the woman on the high stool holding the microphone. She sang with passion, even though some customers weren't actively listening, preoccupied with their drinks and conversations. In that moment, nothing else mattered to him – all that existed was the captivating woman singing a poignant song on the stage. 

As if sensing his gaze, she looked up at the glass wall and locked eyes with him.

Then, without breaking eye contact, she continued to pour her emotions into the song,

"I've been to paradise…

But I've... never been to me..."

He clutched his fists as intense desire ran through his veins. Then, he told himself,

I want her. And I'm gonna get her.