Creative Writing: Behind The Bar

After parking his car, Angelo leads me through the office to the club. It is like the poker game never happened. The clouds of tobacco have long since dispersed leaving the familiar scent of cologne to pervade the air. Even the atmosphere returned to its usual, euphoric nature. If I allow myself to, I can fool myself into believing the poker game nightmare never existed. The usual hustle and bustle of patrons comfort me, maybe I can return to work. As Angelo leads me through the crowd towards the bar, I notice Clyde and Derrick stand in their usual positions behind the bar, serving drinks, while Mary, the barmaid, busies herself collecting empty glasses. Every few steps, Angelo pauses to converse with the regulars, leaving me to my own devices.

“Hey, you okay?” asks Clyde.
I close my eyes and rest my hand against my chest while calming my heart rate. “Yeah, I'm good.”
“You look a little pale.”
I gaze into his honey-brown eyes, sensing something different there. He reaches out a hand and with caresses the side of my face with his fingertips, causing me to shudder involuntarily.
His gaze lowers as his lips curve. “I'm glad to see you back here.”
“Angelo convinced me to come back.”
His gaze flickers back to meet mine, his eyes sparkle.
I shuffle my feet and chew on my lip. This goes beyond his casual flirting. How do I let him down gently?
He hides his hands within his trouser pockets. “What happened the other day, normally doesn't happen. Their games are friendly enough, you shouldn't let it bother you.”
How am I to respond? I join my hands and lace my fingers together while my eyes scan the room for nothing in

Though they hide their faces, their demeanour speaks to me; I'm sure we've met before. Their attire doesn't live up to the code. How did they get in? The man wears black jeans, a black hoodie, and a white pair of trainers. The woman, who drapes over his arm, wears a long black dress with black trainers. She's a lot shorter than him. They keep their backs towards me, but I can see she wears her black hair short, cut into a spiky bob. I can only tell, for now, he wears his haircut close to his scalp. My curiosity intensifies, leading me a little closer to the unique couple. The man turns a little, causing my blood to turn to ice as it chills through my body. His long face, his crooked nose, his jutting out chin, I know