unrelated to the story but why does the site appear as "Not secure"
also this is an imaginary place, but in this fictional world I discover for the first time so basically it counts ok
He said to meet at the “Bar with No Name”. The sirens are wailing behind me as I keep running. I can’t stop, they’ll catch up. I mean, I am innocent and all that, but cops these days don’t care about arguments, they’ll arrest anybody on the streets as long as they even look where they shouldn’t.
I’m running through a dark alley. I think I’ve lost them, and the bar should be pretty close. I manage to breathe in my surroundings, and I see the low-lifes you would normally see at this time of night in this part of town. I don’t stop to look at them, though, but I try to blend in as much as possible. I take a few cuts and turns and I reach a wider backalley, illuminated by neon signs. One of them reads “The Bar With No Name”, and a tough-looking fellow is standing next to a big, metal, probably bulletproof door. I walk up to him, and he throw... a glance at me as if I’m one of them. I’m not. Or am I?
I whisper the name “Edge…” into the guy’s earpiece, and the heavy door opens, revealing a dimly-lit corridor. This is getting interesting. As soon as I enter, the only exit closes behind me, leaving me in the dark pink hallway. I am surrounded by invisible speakers, letting out some sort of synthwave. It calms me for a second, as I forget for a second what I’m supposed to do, but as soon as I reach the end of the hallway I spot a flight of stairs that lead, weirdly down, into the main area of what I can only call a club: lights moving in every direction, a dancefloor with neon colors, and a forceful set of sounds which some people call dubstep. This is all new, but, somehow, I remember it from somewhere. Something new, something old. A sense of Déjà vu captures my mind, but I keep walking. I spot the counter, and a bartender with a funny moustache serving drinks to the business-men of Nebula, out for a night on the town. I approach him, and order an Absinthe on the Rocks. Then, I think that after about 3 or 4 shots I black out...
Always came back to that place. It was sort of a haven for me. Whenever I had trouble, the cops on me or I just wanted to sit back and relax, I went to the “Bar With No Name”. Always had a good time, enjoying how the millionaire playboys were trying to make ............the most of their cash by hitting on young, impresionable girls, and low-lifes in the back of the club, waiting for a chance to get in, to experience the lifestyle of the rich. And, caught in the middle of all this, me, neither rich nor poor, but a Runner, trying to get money to survive from one day to the next, and living my life to the fullest, until it abruptly ended...But that’s a story for another time.
Last edited by AidenJacks (2019-02-23 14:30:51)
