Run Away Before You Drown

Saturday nights at Johnny's were always the same; big, burly guys hitting on anything with a blonde mop and a nice rack, shady neckbeards wearing fedoras and Hawaiian shirts trying to chat me up every two seconds and offering to buy me drinks. Hot messes who couldn't hold their liquor, stumbling around in their six inch heels and leaning on their friends for support. I downed the glass of Sailor Jerry and Coke I was nursing, and strode over to the bar to order another.

"Another Rum and Coke, I assume?" asked Dominic, the bartender and one of my only friends in this place.
"You know it, Dom." I smirked.
"Please tell me you're saving some cash for the ride home." he frowned, his wavy brown hair falling in his face as he made up my drink.
"If I don't find someone to ride home first." I chuckled.
"Some things never change." he sighed, shaking his head. "You're a real Rock n Roll trash baby, you know that, right?"
"You love me." I smirked.
"Only because you're my favourite customer."
"That's right, so fuck me up, baby." I winked.
"Here you go, you lil alco." he grinned, sliding the glass toward me.
"Thank you." I pulled a fiver from my wallet, but he held up his hand.
"Keep it, it's on the house."
"What was that about me being your favourite customer?" I laughed. "You'll put yourself out of business if I don't pay for my drinks."
"You've spent enough tonight that I can justify you a freebie." he smiled. "Now get out of my sight before I change my mind."
"Yes Sir." I said, saluting him.

I made my way over to the dance-floor, weaving myself in amongst the crowd of moving bodies as The Cure's "Fascination Street" played overhead. After taking a deep swig of my drink, I set it upon the small shelf built into the wall and fell into the rhythm of the music. My hands traveled high up into the air, my arms curling and weaving along to the music as my hips swayed from side to side. My vision was quickly blurred as a cloud of artificial smoke engulfed the crowd, illuminated by the strobe lights flickering in every direction.

I fucking loved this place...

About a year ago, some punk ass kids decided it'd be hilarious to mess around with fire and things had quickly gone horribly wrong. Johnny's Saloon had burned to the ground, along with all the musical memorabilia that had built up over the years, as well as past patron's memories of many-a-night spent here.

Some months later, Dominic had bought the property, cleaned it up, and restored it, with a brand new look. It was very Rock n Roll meets Retro, a perfect blend of the dirtiness and seductive nature of the 80's rock club scene, with the laid-back, Hippy nostalgia of the 70's. I made my way back over to the wall to retrieve my drink, admiring the mural with it's infamous quote; "Life's a Beach, and then you Dive..." - Nice use of the puns there, Dom.

But honestly, "Johnny's" as it had now been shortened to, had become like my second home over the past seven months. I didn't quite feel at ease until I climbed the stairs and emerged into the band room of this place. I was particularly fond of the neon sign that hung over the DJ Booth; depicting a red arrow heart with glowing blue text reading "No Requests, No Regrets" - Great life motto to live by.

Expect nothing. Regret nothing.

I had my reasons for living by that motto, but we'll get to that later.

I approached the bar once more, waving in Dom's direction to get his attention. "Dom!" I called, a pitiful attempt with the loud music playing overhead.
"What's up?" he asked.
"I need a smoke, think you can fast-track me upstairs?" I asked. "I really don't feel like waiting in line." I pouted, batting my fake eyelashes.
"You're gonna cost me my job one day, Taylor." he smirked, using my Surname in an attempt to come off all "Boss Man" on me.
"Oh shut up." I sniggered. "You own this fucking place."
"Alright." he rolled his eyes, opening the bar top to let himself out and nudging the bouncer, gesturing to me. "Go on up, I'll join you in a few."
"Don't leave me hanging, Sparky." I winked, making sure to give him a nice view of my ass as I ascended the stairs.

The crisp cold air hit me almost instantly as I emerged out into the rooftop bar. What a fucking perfect night, not a cloud in the sky, giving me a beautiful view of the stars. Of course, it would be far more tranquil if the rooftop wasn't bustling with people, but I managed to maintain some semblance of peace in an empty booth near the back.



I dug the pack of Marlboro Reds out of my bag and placed one of the sweet cancer sticks between my lips, fumbling around for my lighter.

"Need a light?" came a voice from beside me.
"Thanks." I spoke, the cigarette bouncing between my lips.

He shielded it from the wind and lit my smoke, before tugging an identical pack of Marlboro's from the pocket of his leather jacket. I shrugged my own jacket, denim, not leather, on over my shoulders as the cold air began to bite into my skin. The stranger looked totally un-phased by the cold as he watched the smoke trail from the end of his cigarette, fading away into the air.

"So, out with it." I demanded.
"Sorry?" he asked, the ends of his chin length dark brown hair fluttered in the breeze.
"Your name." I elaborated. "You don't just slide into an empty booth with a total stranger without a formal introduction."
"It was the only free booth." he stated. "Brian."
I shook the hand he held out to me. "Rikki-Lee, my friends just call me Rikki."
"This place sure is different." he noted, nodding ahead.
"You came here before the fire?"
"I basically grew up in this place." he replied. "Well, the place it used to be, anyway."
"Something tells me you're not too fond of the new owner's taste in interior design."
"No it's fine it's just..." he paused, taking another drag of his cigarette. "Different."

My eyes suddenly caught sight of a familiar mop of chocolate brown hair emerging from the stairs. I waved across the rooftop, and Dominic made his way through the crowd to our booth, sliding in beside me.

"I leave you alone for two minutes and the Wolves descend." he laughed, flashing his pearly whites.
"Hey man, she's all yours, I just gave her a light." Brian chuckled. "I'll leave you to it, though..." he said, scooting out from our booth and disappearing into the crowd.
"New friend?" Dom asked, sliding into the space Brian had now vacated.
"More just a random encounter." I replied, taking a sip from my drink. "Why, you jealous?"
"No." he scoffed.
"You sure?" I flirted, scooting closer to him, more to warm up than anything else.
His arm snaked across my shoulders. "Don't push it, Taylor."
"Oh Sparky, how I do love watching you get all stern with me." I teased. "Makes me all tingly."
"RIKKI-FUCKING-LEE TAYLOR, STOP MACKING ON MY FUCKING BROTHER!" shrieked a familiar voice.
"Nice to see you, too, Ray." I laughed, as my best friend stood with her hands on her hips in front of our booth. "Finished your drink?"
"Yeah." I said, picking up the glass to inspect the lonely ice cubes now resting on the bottom of the glass.
"Get your fuckin skinny ass downstairs." she demanded. "It's dance time."
I glanced at Dominic, who glanced back at me. "You heard the lady, scoot your boot."

Dom moved aside, allowing me to slide out of the booth. Rayleigh instantly grabbed my hand and dragged me across the rooftop and back downstairs into the band room. Warrant's "Cherry Pie" began to play, and every basic bitch in the place started jumping up and down in excitement.

"You're fucking joking." I groaned, rolling my eyes.
"C'mon." Dom purred in my ear, grasping my shoulders from behind and steering me over to the dance floor.

Okay, so the song wasn't entirely terrible, but very overplayed. Still, I would be lying if I said it didn't bring out even my inner stripper. I tossed my cotton candy pink locks from side to side, rocking my hips to the beat, and being unashamed of slut dropping when the song called for it. I leaned in toward Dom and he placed his hands on my hips, grinning with satisfaction when I instantly began to run my hands over his chest and gyrate against him.

His hands went to the back of my neck and he pulled my face to his, his tongue instantly diving into my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck and jumped, hooking my legs around his waist and digging my fingers into his hair as we began another one of our little intoxicated make-out sessions.

Just another night at Johnny's...

Notes

Chapter Title Credit: Hell or Hollywood by Death By Six
(Whom I knew personally, my friend Alex was their lead guitarist)

So, if you've read Devil Price's story "My Bloody Idiot" you'll notice an obvious similarity between Rikki-Lee and Riley. I promise this is entirely coincidental, I've had the character concept for Rikki-Lee for months, but never had a story to go with her.

I'm still not entirely sure what the long-term game plan for this story is, I'm kinda just writing for the sake of writing, and seeing where it takes me. Also, I burned down Johnny's so I could use the image of my favourite dive bar, Rocket Rooftop in my hometown in this story. Simply because I fucking love the place and I miss going there. - Plus, from what I've seen of Johnny's Saloon, the place is pretty similar to Rocket.

Hope ya'll will stick around for the ride.
Until next time xx