PROLOGUE
It was a pleasant night. The air was cold, and the sky was dark, yet filled with billions of shining stars. Below the beautiful heaven, there was a classic discotheque. People went in and out of that place, where the booming, disco music, and flashing, laser lights were present.
Inside the discotheque, people would gather to have fun, groove on the dance floor, and drink until they turned sober. You could see different scenes in the discotheque, different faces, and different emotions too. Some were smiling, having fun, while the others were arguing, crying, and grieving. Whatever was happening, he didn't care.
He, Jesse Picadiso, entered the discotheque. The people turned their heads, looked at him with awe, and gave him recognition like he was the disco's king. Well, he really was the king, but it was simply because he owned this. Jesse was wearing a white, long-sleeved polo with its sleeves folded up an inch above his elbows, and a pair of dark, stone-washed jeans. His hair was whitish-blond, which was naturally black, but he always wanted a variety in his hairstyles. He changed hairstyles for a reason that he was not comfortable with it. Jesse's eyes were great chic-magnets, fierce-looking, the kind that could make girls shake, and surrender when they glanced at it. With one look at him, everyone would get the impression that he had full authority,and bossy. The people continued dancing, after they granted a long stare at him, which made Jesse breathe freely. He really didn't want too much attention from a lot of people.
As he continued walking, two blonde ladies blocked his way. They were definitely sexy. In fact they were wearing skimpy outfits that emphasized every perfectly, sculpted curves in their body. The girls gathered around him.
"Let's dance, baby," the first one purred in his ear.
"Maybe, we can get some beer," the second one said in a lustful manner as her hands rubbed his chest.
Jesse chuckled, and distanced himself from those girls.
"Then, let's-"
He already made a decision to come with them, but he paused. Something got his attention. It was the girl at the bar, who kept drinking alcoholic beverages. She looked too young, a minor, maybe, to take a lot of alcohol. Jesse might always be irresponsible, but not when it came to his business, which was the only source of his money. He was taking it seriously, and he didn't want any trouble. The thirty-year-old man left the blondes, and walked toward that girl at the bar section of the discotheque.
There she was, Analia Salvi, sitting on a bar stool as she drowned herself with any liquor she could get. The girl could've passed for nineteen-years-old but she was already twenty-three. Her hair was straight, short, and reddish-black. It had been reddish since she dyed it, and her soulful eyes were dark brown. Analia's porcelain, white skin shone flawlessly against the light, and her body shook slowly as she gulped another glass of Vodka.
Vodka's good, she thought to herself, now I should try the thing that they call Martini.
Yes, it was her first time to get inside a discotheque, or any nightclub. Obviously, Analia was not celebrating. She was continually haunted by her past. Painful past that she could not bear anymore. She had imprisoned herself in her room, tried suicide, and sobbed, but they didn't eased her pain. Her final option was to get drunk in a discotheque until she got a liver cancer, and die.
A man sat on a stool beside Analia. She didn't mind, and ignored it as she put down her shot glass.
"Hey!" she called the bartender in a drunk voice, "gimme some Marti- uh- mart'ni!"
The bartender nodded his head, and was about to turn when Jesse, the man who sat beside Analia, called him. The bartender came to him.
"Yes, Boss?"
Jesse preferred being called Boss, than Sir. That was simply Jesse. He didn't want to be treated like he was very elite. He'd rather be treated like a poor, useless man, than to be given too much importance at all.
"How much beverages had that girl," he pointed a thumb to Analia, "already ordered?"
The bartender typed on his calculator, raised his head, and said, "Nineteen thousand."
Jesse's eyes widened. "Nineteen thousand pesos!" he exclaimed.
"She was terribly a hard drinker," the bartender whispered.
He looked at the girl beside him. Her face was obviously sad, although she looked like a bored child with her lips pouted. She must be impatiently waiting for her order.
"Give her a ladies' drink," Jesse ordered, and the bartender obeyed him without any questions.
While the drink was being prepared, James sat closer to Analia.There was something familiar with her face. He didn't know why he felt like this. Like she had completed the missing part of his life, something like that.
"Hey," he spoke that made the girl turn to look at him.
Their eyes widened when they saw each other's faces. They finally recognized each other.
"Analia?" he gasped.
"J-Jesse?"
His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here, bitch," he sneered.
Analia hiccuped, and she covered her mouth. Jesse rolled his eyes. Of all the places, why here? Why would he ever meet this girl at his own discotheque? He rolled his hand in a hard fist, trying to stop himself from doing what he badly wanted to do, now that he met her again.
"Why are you here? Why get drunk?"
"It doesn't matter," she said as she took the ladies' drink that the bartender handed to her.
"This is my discotheque, I deserve to know why you are here."
"Do you," she sipped some of the drink, and smacked her lips, "ask all the people here why they're in y-your discotheque?"
"Not really, but-"
"See? So, don't ask me-" She made a straight shot, and put down the glass. His jaws almost dropped when he saw that. Analia didn't look good when she gets drunk. It was as if, she was going to collapse anytime.
"Analia, I'll take you home," he held her arm, but she pulled it away.
"No!"
"You're making me lose my patience again!"
"So? You don't have any patience anyway!"
"You bitch, I said-"
"I don't want-"
Her protest was interrupted when his lips crushed down to her lips. The kiss was a little torrid at the beginning, but it slowed down, and became tender before James pulled his face away from hers. As she gazed at his eyes, their past slowly returned back to her thoughts. It was the painful past that Analia had been grieving about for years.
