Chapter 1

"Oh. It's you again," I said as flat as Mrs. James' Toyota tire. His eyes gleamed like fire. A smirk is available on his handsome face. The face I come to know for years. The face I wanted to forget these past few years. The face I loved with all my heart. And until now, every time I got to look at him, I can't help but remember what happened. I didn't realize that I was staring at him for long until he leaned back on his seat and smirked at me.

What is he smirking at?

"I want a double shot of whiskey," he said with a smile on his pink lips.

"Nothing else?" I asked once again in case he wanted anything else but he shook his head in decline. I nodded then walk to the bar.

"Double shot, whiskey," I said once, and the waiter immediately worked on it whilst taking orders from other customers.

"For Mister Arrogant again?" Peter, the bartender asked.

"Yeah."

"He's here every night. I wonder why," he said while giving me a knowing glance.

"Don't even get me started, Pete." I roll my eyes at him as I got what he was trying to imply, then took the drink from the counter and to Mr. Arrogant. I don't get why he thinks Mr. Arrogant is here because of me.

It was already midnight and the pub just got even fuller. I wonder when will these people leave. I'm tired and needed a good sleep but here I am working my ass off till the sun comes down like, seriously? I need an off.

I kept on going here and there, taking orders from random people. But mostly, I hate it when a guy hits on me. I just want to punch their guts out and stomp on it.

I was taking an order from a group of old men like in their sixties, when accidentally my eyes fell on him. He was looking at me with his chin resting on both his hands. A smile was present on his handsome face. He had very few drinks and I've been contemplating with myself why he's still here. He's been here for six hours straight. Not even a single break to the restroom - not that I'm paying attention, but still, that's just weird because if he were Philip, he would've been at the restroom every twenty minutes.

Maybe he has a very high alcohol tolerance. Unlike Philip, who just had a shot and he'll fall asleep for real.

There I go again. Thinking of Philip again.

"Beer! Oh, and Emma, make it six," one of the regulars shouted and I went to the bar again to get their order.

"Night, Ems!" Jackson, our manager shouted at us as he exited the bar. I looked back, scanning the place for trash. I just cleaned the whole place and my back hurts a lot from sweeping the floors to picking up candy wrappers and whatnot.

"Night, Jacks!" I shouted back, then Peter appeared from the kitchen with his messenger bag on his torso.

"Ready to leave?" he asked. I sighed, then shook my head.

"Nah, I still had a bag to take. You go ahead,"

"You sure?" he asked again and I answered him a 'yes' which made him leave me alone in this empty bar.

Great. Now I have this place alone for myself. I took a shot of my tequila that was sitting on the table. Right before we leave, we always had a shot for ourselves, but I haven't drunk mine since I was busy cleaning the whole place.

After having drinks alone, I decided to lock the front doors and as always, I get to leave from the backdoor that is connected to the employees' room - where we keep our stuff. Taking the trash with me, I soon lock the backdoors and search for any sign of life.

None. Nothing. The place was empty. The only thing I saw was my sedan on the empty lot. It's still early in the morning and I'm really tired. I just need to take this trash bag and I'm out. I'm walking in the dark, narrow alley behind the building and throwing the bag in the trash but it didn't go straight inside but spilt on the floor instead.

"Fuck!" I hissed to my stupid self. Now I have to pick it all up. How stupid of me! I could have just put it directly in there. Why do I have to throw it? I'm fucked up. I could just leave it alone and let Jackson snap at me tomorrow, or pick it up now. I'd go with the latter.

I was kneeling, picking up the pieces of garbage scattered on the floor when I heard footsteps behind me. My body froze and I slowly tilt my head backward, my heart racing in my chest. For all I know, it could be an axe murderer or a rapist. Who would roam the streets at this hour?

"Need help?" he said and a dark silhouette appeared in front of me. "Oh, shit!" I squealed as I fell on my butt. The voice was familiar but I don't remember. A hand appeared in front of my face and I swallowed a lump on my throat.

"Don't worry, it's just a hand," he said. His voice was husky and low. I think I know who it is. I took his hand and he helped me stand up. I patted my jeans, shooing the invisible specks of dust, and stepped back slowly, one step at a time.

"Who are you?" I asked because I still can't see his face. He walked to where the light was and I saw him. I was right. It was him. A smirk on his face and his hands in his jeans pockets.

Mr. Arrogant.

"I'm Lucas. And I just want to help you," he said while rubbing both his palms.

I started kneeling and picking up the trash again when he stepped beside me and snap his fingers. In one snap, the trash that was littering the floor was all gone. I fell once again, but this time, he yanked me up and once I felt my feet on the floor, I found my voice again.

"H-how..." I told him, but he just grins. His teeth showing and soon, shivers formed goosebumps on my skin. His eyes lit up like I've never seen before. His hands wrapped around my waist, steadying me and I feel it getting tighter. I was asking myself how is it possible to do what he did but then darkness envelopes me in a tranquil kind-of way.

I usually woke up on a sunny morning but this time, it was dark and gloomy. I never liked this kind of weather, but since Philip died, I just kind of liked how it defines my mood every day. I tried to replay everything that happened yesterday.

"Oh, God," I whispered to myself as I scan my outfit. I was wearing a tank top and undies - which I don't remember putting on last night. How did I even end up here? What I remember was leaving the bar and taking the trash out then that arrogant guy showing up...

I was shocked when I heard the shower turning on and then off. Oh, God! There was someone with me. Did he rape me? Shit! I stood up from the bed, grabbing Philip's hammer that was under my bed. It was the only self-defense I had.

I was walking near the bathroom door and my heart plummeted out of my chest when I heard the water stops. I leaned my back on the wall, the hammer clutched with both my hands, ready to pounce.

When the knob turned and the door opens, I aim for his head.

I just did it once and he's on the floor. Blood dripped from his wrecked head and I saw his flesh like a lump of ground meat. I think it's his brain. The blood flowed on the tiled floor of the bathroom, making the white, red.

Shit. One thing was for sure.

I killed someone.

●●●