Chapter 2 Just another fight

Chloe grabs a pouch from the cupboard next to the refrigerator, disposing of the plastic wrap with a loud crinkle. Then, she throws the offensive snack into the microwave and hits the start. As the bag cooks, she leans against the counter and messes around on her phone.

Suddenly, a weird smell starts emanating from the microwave. She has forgotten about the popcorn as she was so focused on her phone and now the popcorn is burning! The entire downstairs is going to smell like smoke for weeks if she doesn't do something.

Scrambling, she stops the microwave, retrieves the steaming bag of microwavable popcorn and looks at it. It's hopeless. The edges of the bag are singed, and it smells terrible. Giving up, she throws the entire thing in the garbage. Glad that at least she didn't start a fire.

But then Luke storms in, his handsome features twisted with anger.

"What the fuck happened?"

Startled by his voice, she shivers a bit "I burned the popcorn," she explains.

"I was distracted by a really cool recipe I found on-line. But don't worry, I'll put a second bag in and keep an eye on it."

Unfortunately, Luke is too enraged to calm down.

"Seriously? I keep telling you to stay off the internet because you're always getting into dumb recipes. You never even end up making that shit! Plus, it's microwave popcorn, so what the fuck happened? Did you not use the timer or something?"

Chloe grits her teeth as anger rises in her chest.

"Yes, I did use the timer but your microwave must be really powerful. Trust me, the second bag will turn out fine. You can go back to watching the movie."

But Luke decides to be an ass.

"No, I'm here now. I need to make sure you don't screw things up again. God, I can't believe you fucked up popcorn. It's like the easiest thing in the world to make, Chloe, and I was doing it in third grade. What the fuck? Did you not graduate from elementary school or something?"

"Shut up," Chloe grits through her teeth, but Luke doesn't take the hint. He just tilts his nose in the air, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't like your attitude, Chloe. If you can't take criticism, then you're bound to fail in life. You're just going to be a waitress forever, instead of pulling yourself up by your bootstraps."

Chloe grits through her teeth again trying to warn Luke that he is about to cross a line, but Luke ignores her warning, his mouth going like a motor.

"I mean, you can't do anything right, not even the most simple of tasks. I don't get how you've survived life, much less gotten a job. You can't even make fucking popcorn! Does Harry's know of your nonchalance? I'm surprised they haven't fired your ass yet."

Chloe slams her fist down on the kitchen counter, ignoring the dull ache she felt on her wrist and glare daggers at Luke.

"Well, I'd rather be a waitress than a lazy, fake video game player. You've never won Luke. Not even one of those big stuffed animals they have at the carnival, much less an entire tournament." Chloe thunders.

Luke scowls.

"Fuck you, Chloe. How would you know? Maybe I've won some shit, but just never told you because you wouldn't appreciate the sacrifice and hard work it takes to be in my industry. You know what? You don't get it, and you'll never get it. Get the fuck out of my house. We're done."

Chloe swipes her arm across the kitchen counter and knocks over a salt shaker, which falls to the ground before shattering and spilling everywhere.

"You bitch!" Luke rages, spittle flying from his mouth. "Clean this up!"

She smiles nastily. "You told me to get out, so that's what I'm going to do. Maybe you can try cleaning up the mess yourself for once, asshole!"

They are both yelling now, but I don't care. Turning on her heel, Chloe storms out of the mansion, slamming the door behind her. She wondered what she saw. He thinks he's all that, but in fact, he's just a loser teenage boy who lives on his dad's money.

"Thank God we're broken up. Maybe it'll stick this time. Hell, I'm determined not to get back together with that piece of shit." She said to herself as she walked angrily to the parking lot.

Huffing with anger, she realises that she is too pissed to drive.

There's a bar just a few blocks away, so she walks instead, leaving her car parked in the driveway. The entire way, she continues to steam. She is still so mad about everything he said to her, and she wishes she had hit him because he deserves it. She clenched her fists and lowered her head before stepping into the darkened bar.

Not feeling cheery, Chloe just wants to get drunk, and wash the rest of the night away. The bar is packed since it's a Friday night, but that's not going to stop her, and she manages to find a stool at the end of the long wooden counter.

A bartender comes over and offers her a menu. He's cute enough, but being in a sour mood she didn't even smile. She just barks her drink order, and then adds, "Make it a double." knowing full well that she'll regret it in the morning, but right now, she just wants to ignore how mad she is at Luke and let the alcohol take away her problems.

Her stomach growls and she laughs sourly. Dang, life is so strange sometimes.

"Here's your drink," the bartender says. He gives her a quick grin of sympathy, and she grimaces back. It must be obvious how awful she felt.

"Thanks," she responds. She takes a long sip of her drink and the heat of the alcohol travels down her throat and into my stomach, warming her up.

"Can I get you anything else?" the bartender asks her.

"Actually, can I get chicken nachos, please?"

The cute bartender nods.

"Sure thing. They'll be out in a few."

"Thanks."

She smiles to herself sourly again, then she sighs. But are Luke and I really over? It's embarrassing to admit, but we seem to be locked into an ugly cycle: break up, make up, break up, make up. It's happened more times than I can count, and it's a little pathetic, come to think of it. Maybe we should stay broken up this time. Emotionally, it would be healthier for both of us, and hell, I'm twenty-two now. I don't want to be caught in this cycle forever. I want to find a real man who loves me, and who doesn't whine when I won't get up to serve him hand and foot." she murmured.

"Did you order the nachos?" a voice asks.

Chloe looks up startled from her now-empty drink and finds a woman standing in front of her.

It's Cassandra, a bartender who pulls a few shifts at the Hard Swallow. She's hard to miss with her vibrant, curly red hair and take-no-shit attitude.

"Yes, those are for me. Thank you."

She grins.

"No problem. Billy got busy so I'm taking over this end of the bar. Just let me know if you need anything else."

Chloe nods.

"Actually, can I get another drink? Malibu and pineapple juice, please. And a shot of tequila as well." Chloe said to Cassandra.

"Sure thing, dearie."