Chapter 2 Losers Can't Buy Drinks

He shivered in the cold wind as he strolled down the alley, dressed in old, faded jeans and a white T-shirt that had small holes in it. In addition, he wore a blue beanie and an old boot that was now covered in dirt and dust.

Samantha's words kept echoing in his head as he placed his hands in his jeans pocket. He couldn't bear to see his ex-fiancee making out with his boss in his house and on his bed; thus, he left the apartment for them and decided to take a walk around the street and wallow in shame, anger, disappointment, betrayal, and frustration.

'Indeed, you are a loser, Adams. You can't even keep a woman. You didn't even realize she was cheating on you and kept giving your hard-earned money to her to get fancy things while you dressed in old clothes and boots. You foolishly believed in perfect love', Adams thought.

Crazy, self-deprecating laughter erupted from him. He leaned against the pole that was just next to him, slid down, and broke down in tears. How pathetic for a man to cry, but he couldn't help it. It felt like a knife had been burrowed into his small heart.

"Sir, would you like to deposit your cash into your account?" He hears a small voice say: The voice sounded melodic and charming, bringing him out of his miserable trance. Adams raised his head. He couldn't care much about his bloodshot eyes as he stared at the red-haired lady.

He pulled out his wallet and showed her the only cash left in there.

"There are only two dollars left on me. Do you think I should deposit this into my bank account?" He asks, and she nods.

"Of course, but it's still your choice," She replied.

Adams chuckles sadistically. He accepted the small-size paper the lady had outstretched to him and then the pen. He fills it up and hands it to her along with the dollars.

The young lady smiled and began operating her automated device. A few minutes later, Adams's phone buzzed. He scrolled through it and saw there were two dollars added to his zero-dollar account.

He looks up at the lady and asks, "Why didn't you take out the charges from the money? I don't have any extra cash left."

The red-haired lady cracked up, "Actually, I need two dollars in cash to add to my capital to afford a taxi fare. I was hoping to find someone who would want to deposit cash. It's not for business," she replied.

For the first time in a long time, he felt he wasn't treated like a loser. Adams let out a smile. He stands up to leave, and her next words halt him.

"Matters arise but try not to lose hope in yourself. A successful man is a man who never gives up."

Adams didn't look behind him as he continued walking down the Alley. He would have believed the lady if he hadn't experienced what he had earlier witnessed. He felt he needed something strong to gulp down. He wanted to drink himself into a stupor and forget his sorrow.

He continued walking until he got to a buzzing bar. It was almost seven o'clock in the evening, and he had no plans of returning to his nightmare of an apartment.

Adams casually strode inside the bar. The faintly lit bar was blooming with loud music. The stench smell of alcohol, which he has always hated, assaulted his nostrils as he took a seat.

The bartender immediately walked up to him and offered him a glass with different alcohols mixed. Adams shook his head at the bartender.

"I need something extra, extra strong," he demanded. The bartender nods and says,

"This is a strong combination, sir. It's so strong that only a shot can get you intoxicated."

Those words made Adams grin in satisfaction. "Give me four shorts then, I need to waste my life," he said. The bartender didn't refuse; after all, he'd get his commission according to the sales he made.

In an instant, four shots of high-intoxicants were placed on Adams' table. Adams, without any hesitation, took up a glass. He twirls it and gulps it down in one go. His facial expression twisted at the awful taste, and he shook his head, trying to clear off the effects of the drink.

Despite having a burning throat, he picked up the second glass and downed it. His vision became hazy as he mumbled incoherent words. As if that wasn't enough to stop him, he gulped down the remaining glasses and the unbelievably strong effect of the drink almost made him lose his balance.

As soon as the bartender realized Adams' empty glasses He smiled gleefully, walked up to him, and said, "Sir, each glass of drink is three dollars. Your bill is a total of twelve dollars. Would you like to add more to the list?"

Despite having been drunk, Adams could still understand what the guy meant. His bill was a Total of twelve dollars, but he only had two dollars on his card. 'What a ruined day', he thought, thinking of how to escape the situation he had put himself in.

"More shots, please,'' he demands. The bartender felt ecstatic and immediately went to the counter to get the drinks. Seeing that he was gone. Adams stands up from the chair. He looks around and makes sure no one is watching him.

'No one here will recognize me; I'll just run, and they won't see me again,' he thought as he made his way out, but it was so wrong of him to think that way. The very next moment, he could hear heavy footsteps behind him.

Adams picked up his pace, and so Did the protection personnel. He began running through the stress after successfully making his way out, but they kept following him. Adams stumbles and tumbles as he runs. His vision was blurry, and his physical balance was unsteady as a result of the drink he had drunk.

Soon enough, four burly men caught up with him in the dark and empty alley. He was surrounded and didn't know what to do.

"Pay us now and we'll let you off, or else, get ready to meet your doom," a burly man with spider tattoos on his face said.

"I don't have money to pay; I'll pay later when I receive my salary," Adams muttered as he tried to keep his consciousness while breathing heavily.

"Oh, you'd pay later. You should have waited until later before coming to drink at the bar. No alcohol for poor men." Another man spoke.

Adams wasn't properly hearing what they were saying, as his head was banging badly and his body was quivering as sweat covered his entire being.

"Losers can't buy drinks. Brother let's deal with him quickly, we need to return, the boss is coming tonight"

The burliest amongst them reminded them. The last thing Adams recalled was a strong fist landing straight on his properly carved handsome face.