Took a few seconds for my eyes to crawl up to her, up her ruby red dress, matching luscious lipstick provoking my lips to caress her's. But I was just a drunk in a casino, a lay around and a failure in life, injecting large doses of alcohol into my worn body that stood rugged beside the bar, but she did what I never thought a perfect girl like her would ever do, look me right in the eyes and tell me to sit with her. At first I thought she was tugging at my heart strings way too hard for it to be true, perhaps the alcohol had seeped too far into my brain and reached into that part of me that shrivelled up and died years and years ago, but I smiled and sat with her. I hid my brute face from the neon lights that were beaming above our heads, scars descending into the shadows where they had hid behind my old hat that I did not even consider putting on today: stupid me. However, her eyes lay on me like the innocence she carried in those lips, perfect and oval like the tender fruit untasted by any biblical description: nothing could compare to that smile that was set wild infront of me. She reached over and leaned on my shoulder, I looked down at her with an edging smile that burst between my cheeks. She asked me my name. My name? My name was not important, not to anyone, but something came out my mouth and it was the first truth I could ever let out. My name is Carmen, Seamus Carmen, and then she kissed me. At first I thought she was just anothing whore, but in those eyes that fell closed at my grasp, I felt something more than just payment, in her pale, doll-like complexion there was a chance that this was happiness. She said something afterwards, as she held me close into the casino. What she did not ask is how much money I had hung dry in my wallet of mine. She failed to ask if I was famous or some sort of notorious criminal with thrill and violence in my power. And she did not even speak of a husband, which I assumed by the absence of a golden shine on her wedding finger. This was all too perfect, but it consumed me, I had been drawn in and felt almost exposed to my own smile, that she had unchained from my face with her smooth, warm fingers. Suddenly my heart pounded in all different directions. Rose, I called her -her name as bliss as ever- and she looked up with a smiling gaze that melted away my rapidly fierce conscience. Would you like to watch me roll some dice? She sat up and edged her head to the left with doubt that made my heart sink so fast.
"I don't like to see people gambling when-" She broke off. Because I was poor? A low-life? My flaming conscience started to burn in my throat. I watched her lips glisten in the blue neon, and touched her velvet hair that curled down her shoulder.
"Honey, I'm a professional." The lie dripped out of my mouth like poison, it felt dirty and wrong, but I said it. The sounds of rolling dice and cheering erupted in another room, from the corner of my eye I could see happy faces and men strapped in high-quality tuxedo's with a woman hung in their hooked arms like gleaming trophies of honor and richness. Not the financial richness- I mean dignity. She still stared, honest eyes watering slightly but I kept them dry by lifting up her smooth chin with my strong fingers. "Honey trust me."
I was not rich, or classy, I was a gambler. And exposing my own lies to her, I feel as if I have just spat in the face of the own lord that my old folks prayed to until the end, wishing me the best of things when I had the worse, stuck in a barrel rolling my life away in the darkest of times. But that's what addiction is, craving an desire and need, all seperate but combined makes you a monster, but in this case, I was a gentleman. And so I am what I could never see i my own eyes, I'll milk this moment for all it's worth. Walking into the room, walls all around, carpeted with luxurious wallpaper of emarld as the tables were with rolling and card tossing and chances and dreams: humanity standing on thin ice. I was among them; the boys holding dice. I smiled at table filled with greedy maggot-like fiends of dollars, walking wallets with a glittering hand perched onto them, grabbing of all the change, all the difference to a limbozine from a regular old-joe car, bimmed with rust with a fine working engine. A pitiful way to drain away your worth.
"Betting 500." I grunted to a small, thin man wearing a dickie-bow and a quivering shirt, he shredded through the cards and tossed me two. I flipped them quickly, like retrieving a blade from a wound- can't be slow otherwise the shock will stab in too severly. I heard the sound of moving chips heading toward me, I had two aces.
"Two aces! Seamus two aces!" She called out with relief that I could tell was held far too long for a delicate lady like her.
"Level Two, one thousand." I moved my hand of half cash, half chips back to the man. I knew that Rose was panicking, so was I, but I had to be strong, maybe this lady of a charm isn't just beautiful, she might be lucky too. The cards flipped half-a-dozen times and soon I became hooked, my body was numb and the only thing I could feel was my teeth against my lip. Rose was not holding on so tightly as before, as my money was shaking between a 5 thousand win and nothing, but I couldn't go back, not to where I was.
"Please, I think we should go." She said, afraid an almost alone beside me.
"Oh please, I want to go home, can you help me get a cab or something."
"Please Honey, pl-"
"I said NO Martha!"
I turned to her with a fist raised, stopping in mid-air, held by immense fear.
"Martha?" She asked without hesitation, she was scared but I was worse: scared, shaking and addicted. My lip trembled.
"I loved her once. But She's gone, she is gone cause of this place."
"So you carry on coming here, to this place? Your mad!"
"I'm not mad, I...I..."
She watched me shake and almost break down, until my brow sunk deep above my eyes.
"I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to lose"
"You are mad." She said. However she still stood next to me, my heavy head swerved back to the ever-more shaking man. I bet everything, I said, drowzy and almost unconscious with sweat dribbling down my numb face.
"A Queen..." He said. "And a three, you lose."
I stared, not angry, numb, always numb, after a hard day's work, I am almost numb, blind and alone. I looked back to where she should have been. She didn't even see if I won or not. I didn't, but she wasn't there.