CHAPTER 5

It has been fifteen years since the death of Bridgette’s best friend, Trina. The cold breeze of the wind, a beautiful canvas of sky blues and milky whites graces the midday sky. The blue of the depths and the smooth, rounded, sugary sweet clouds in the foreground are a beautiful contrast. Bridgette’s wavy auburn hair swayed with the wind. She’s standing in front of her grave now with a bouquet of fresh pink carnations, her favorite flower. The time on her wrist watch says two in the afternoon.

She blocked all her schedules today so she could visit her friend. After seeing those memorabilias inside the box, she finally took the courage to go to her grave. She knew where it was because fifteen years ago she stood up from afar during her funeral.

“Hi Trina. How are you?” Bridgette said while smiling and placing the flowers beside the black marble tombstone. Bridgette knew her family had already gone there as well when she noticed three other bouquets of fresh flowers. She’s feeling anxious at the moment.

Bridgette dusted off her tombstone a bit with her hand. “Looks like you’ve got a lot of visitors today. Did you miss them too?” She paused, expecting a response coming from her friend. It could’ve been better if her soul would descend today from heaven, she thought as she really misses her a lot. She’s beginning to imagine a figure of a lady dressed in white smiling sweetly at her. She came here to finally apologize for what happened.

Bridgette and her father fought a lot after that incident in front of Trina’s house, but Bridgette couldn't defend herself because of her young age. Despite her dislike for her father, his business, and the mansion they lived in, she was unable to leave. She stayed there until she was 18. She escaped on the night of her debut. There was nothing left to do but get on the train and head to Hounslow, the only place that fit her budget during that time. She had to sell some of her stuff and do several part-time jobs as a teenager after her classes.

Bridgette pursued her dream course, Bachelor of Fashion Design and Marketing by taking several student loans and working her ass off as a school assistant and a barista at some local coffee shop in Hounslow, she moved back to Westminster to put up her own business, the Glam Closet a small clothing brand which she put up with her own sweat and tears because a clothing business is not feasible in Hounslow.

It’s like that day when she died just yesterday. Bridgette still lives with the pain of losing her one and only friend.

“How are the hotties in heaven doing? I'm sure there are a lot of attractive angels flirting with you." Bridgette laughed bitterly. She is fighting back the tears that are about to fall.

But then she remembered all the fun things they used to do together. "I miss you so much," she murmured as tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m sorry Trina. I’m sorry for lying to you about my dad’s business. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you from my family's enemies. I’m sorry for just visiting you here after so many years. I’m sorry Trina.”

"We could’ve been at the same university together. We could’ve been supporting each other’s businesses now. We could’ve been daydreaming about our future weddings and husbands. But now, you’re just probably looking at me from above and laughing because I’m crying here like some pathetic loser! Trina! " Bridgette wasn’t able to control her sobs anymore. She suddenly kneeled down and tried to hug Trina’s tombstone. She stayed in the cemetery for almost three hours just talking to Trina and eating strawberry cream cake, which is their favorite snack.

Bridgette wanted to drown herself in alcohol to numb her entire system so she decided to go to, the nearest bar and restaurant from the cemetery upon checking the map on her phone which is named as The Red Town.

After a ten-minute drive, she finally reached the establishment. Because of its red lighting, the interior of the bar looks like a sophisticated hell. It’s called "Red Town" for a reason. It’s the nearest bar to the cemetery, so she chose to stay here. She couldn’t afford to drive any further. She had to undergo the hassle of being screened out before they let her in. Probably because she was just wearing a plain white tee, acid-washed jeans, and cream-colored flats.

She went straight to the adjacent bar inside the restaurant. As it was just five in the afternoon, there were only a few customers inside. She noticed that the waiters were still cleaning and fixing tables and chairs to prepare for the night.

Bridgette proceeded to the bar counter to order a bottle of whiskey. She wanted to be super drunk tonight, so she chose a hard drink.

The bartender excused himself, and after a few seconds, he returned with a bottle of whiskey. He set it on the bar top with a short, wide brim and a thick base glass.

"I'm not sure why a pretty lady wants to drown herself with whiskey, but here it is," the bartender said. Bridgette, not being in the mood, just gave him a blank look and thanked him.

Bridgette poured the whiskey onto the glass and took a sip. She immediately tasted that smooth, sweet, and brimy taste in her mouth. A few more sips and she felt a sudden surge of heat in her body.

She's now beginning to feel more relaxed and confident.

She held the bottle and attempted to pour herself another glass, but she almost dropped it. Luckily, a man wearing a royal blue suit caught it just in time.

"Hey! That was close, "he said. Bridgette tried to look at the person beside her. It was a tall, handsome guy with eyes as blue as the ocean. Looking at it feels like drowning. He has a chiseled face like that model from a magazine. His suit really suited him. But despite these qualities, Bridgette displayed a disgusted expression on her face.

"Give me that! " She shouted and pulled the bottle from the strange guy's tight grip. The guy pulled it away from her.

"Stop. You're drunk. That's all the whiskey you'll be drinking tonight, "he said.

Bridgette gave her a questioning look. "Who are you? Why are you trying to take my bottle away!? "she said in a slurred way. It looked like the whiskey's spirit had consumed her now.

"I'm Trent. And I'm the guy who will take this whiskey bottle away from a drunk lady in this bar, "he responded matter-of-factly."

Bridgette got pissed and slapped the guy, all of a sudden, getting the attention of everyone inside the bar. It's six in the evening, and people are starting to enter the establishment.

"Stay away from me! Rich men are dirty and evil! You only worship money!”

"Feisty. I like that, "said the man in a royal blue suit. He was shocked by what Bridgette said and wanted to say something at first, but he just ignored it afterward. He removed his coat and tie and unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt.

"One vodka on the rocks," he asked the bartender. He placed the bottle of whiskey beside him so Bridgette wouldn't be able to reach it. He turned his gaze towards the drunk woman beside him again, looking at her like an angry leopard waiting to pounce on its prey.

"Why are you trying to drown yourself with whiskey, lady?" he asked.

"None of your business. Give me back my whiskey! " Bridgette yelled.

"If I give this back to you, what are you planning to do with it?"

"Take a bath with it? Of course I will drink it, dummy! "she replied.

Trent smirked and laughed."I like you. What's your name? "he asked while placing the rim of the glass on his lips like he was trying to tease her.

"I don't have a name. Stop bothering me!Give it back! " In a quick motion, she swooped the bottle away from Trent, but she gripped it loosely enough that the bottle fell and a loud crashing sound of broken glass filled the entire bar.

Bridgette sat down and stared at the shards of glass and spilt whiskey on the tiled floor of the bar. She began to cry for no particular reason. Trent helped her stand up.

The bartender looked disappointed. He began writing something on a sheet of paper. It was the bill for that one bottle of whiskey. He handed it to Bridgette. "Miss. Here's the bill for that bottle of whiskey, "he said, trying to hide the frustration in his voice.

After scanning the receipt, Bridget almost fell out of her chair when she saw the price. That thing costs as much as her car.

“What?!” A bottle of whiskey for 10 thousand pound?!” she exclaimed. Bridgette looked around her and she realized that she’s in an exclusive bar. No wonder a rich guy is pestering her now.

“What’s the matter? Can’t afford a bottle of whiskey?” the guy wearing a royal blue suit. Bridgette forgot his name already so she just named him “the asshole in a suit” in her mind.

“Who will pay this much for a measly bottle of whiskey?!” she lashed out. It’s gonna cost at least three months of her store sales.

The bartender interrupted their conversation. “Excuse me, please pay for the bottle or I will call the security,” he irritably announced.

Bridgette nervously rummaged through her purse to find her wallet. She sighed as she gave it to the bartender but the guy took it away again and gave his card instead. It was a black card.

“Put these in my tab and add twenty percent of the total bill, that’ll be your tip and a payment for the shattered bottle,” he commanded. Bridgette was about to take it away from his hand, when the bartender quickly left.

“What the hell!? What is wrong with you?!” she snapped. The guy just laughed while looking at her.

“What? "Can't a man buy a drink for a lady?" he snickered, making Bridgette more furious.

She was about to say something when her vision suddenly became blurry followed by a pitch black darkness. She fainted in the arms of a stranger.