Reporting from the underworld

Alejandro's pov

I stumbled into the dimly lit bar, the neon signs outside reflecting off the polished wood like a sad, desperate attempt to brighten up my mood.

The bartender raised an eyebrow as I slid onto the stool, ordering another whiskey without even looking at the menu. Samson, my best friend since forever, appeared out of nowhere, concern etched on his face like a permanent marker.

"Alejandro, slow down, man," he said, his voice low and soothing, but I waved him off.

"Just one more, Sam," I slurred, my words barely making sense as the liquor took hold. The burn of the whiskey down my throat was a welcome distraction from the ache in my chest.

Samson sighed, taking the stool next to me. "You're going to regret this tomorrow."

I laughed, a bitter sound that scraped against my throat. "What's there to regret? I just got my heart broken by the one person I thought...never mind."

Samson knew exactly who I was talking about. He'd been there for every late-night conversation, every rant, every tearful breakdown. And now, he was here, trying to reel me in from the edge of self-destruction.

"Alejandro, come home with me," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "You're not going to solve anything tonight."

I looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time all night. His eyes, a deep, rich brown, held a warmth that made my chest flutter. I felt a pang of embarrassment, realizing I'd been leaning on him so heavily. But as I gazed into those eyes, something shifted. Something I couldn't quite explain.

“Let me be, I would rather die here.” I said as I continued my attempt to drone myself with whiskey.

“You have a job tomorrow Alejandro, you would need to be sober.” Samson urged as you grabbed me and tried to pull me off the stool.

“You should listen to him more often, you know.” The bartender said as he wiped a glass cup, I knew he felt sorry for me, but there was nothing more he could do.

I had lost the only man I've ever loved.

“Well, I know my rights and I demand to be served.” I ordered as I pushed the glass towards him.

“And I refuse to serve you any more alcohol.”

“Urghh” I groaned rolling my eyes. I tried to stand but my eyes had other plans.

The room spun around me so fast that I stumbled, falling to the ground.

“Oh my God Alejandro! Now you've done it!”

“Help me up Samson, it's not that big of a deal, I will be fine.” I said as I raised my hands so he could help me.

He grabbed me And pulled me up, “now what?”

“Nothings changed, I just need to get to the toilet.” I said as I stumbled into another customer in front of me.

“Watch where you are going.” He fired, obviously upset at the fact that I spilled his drink on him.”

“We're so sorry…” Samson apologised.

“No…no I'm not .” I mumbled.

“Alejandro..”

“What?” I asked, “there's no need to apologise, he should have known better to stay in the way of an obviously drunk guy, he just needs someone to massage his ego till he moves to the next Victim like Evans…”

“Not this again Alejandro, haven't we been over this.”

“No…” I sobbed, “how do I get over him.”

The bartender placed a glass of beer on the table and I hurriedly grabbed it.

“Hey, that's not your order.” He yelled,with the loud sounds of the club In the background trying to drown his voice.

“Put It on my tab,” And without thinking I emptied the contents of the cup on the head of the hooded man at the bar, “this will teach h you to be considerate around drunk heartbroken men.” I said as I walked away.

Samson gasped, his two hands covering his mouth, “What in the world—”

“You need to apologise to me!” The man barked.

“Well deal with it.” I answered.

He rushed to grab me by the waist and in one movement, he had me tumbling through the air and crashing on the floor.

Angry, I grabbed a bottle and swung at him, he dodged every one of my blows effectively, a grace I attributed to my drunken state.

I grabbed him by his shirt and pulled down his hood.

I froze the very moment my brain registered what I was seeing.

Before me,in a tight grip was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

His face distorted with obvious rage but that did nothing on his good looks

I couldn't help but stare at him, his face a whirlwind of emotions as he lunged at me.

“What is happening? This can't be real.” I thought as I struggled to breath with his hands wrapped around me.

His eyes, a deep shade of blue, seemed to burn with an inner fire, flashing with a fierce intensity that made my heart skip a beat even as I braced for impact.

The sharp lines of his jaw were clenched, his full lips pressed into a thin line, and I felt a shiver run down my spine as I took in the raw power etched on his face.

"Guys, please! Break it up!" Samson's voice, laced with desperation, cut through the din, but it was like background noise.

He was handsome, I'd give him that, but it was the way his anger seemed to ignite a spark within him that truly made him captivating, even as we grappled. The way his eyes flashed, the way his muscles tensed as he pushed against me, it was like watching a storm brew on a summer evening – intense, unpredictable, and mesmerizing. And I'm caught right in the middle of it.

"Seriously, stop this now!" Samson pleaded again, his voice closer this time, probably trying to get between us.

As he finally broke free, his gaze locked onto mine, and I felt like I was drowning in the depths of those piercing blue eyes. The anger seemed to radiate off him, making him look even more rugged and attractive. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be the one to calm that storm, to soothe the fierce intensity that seemed to drive him. Is that even possible? Do I even want to?

For a moment, the world around us melted away, and all that was left was the two of us, locked in a silent understanding, our breathing heavy.

Samson's continued pleas for us to stop were a muffled hum. I felt a spark of attraction that I couldn't ignore, and I knew at that moment, I was in trouble.