And Permanently Fill This Hollow

It was barely nine o'clock when I walked into the bar, still early. I liked to think that I came early to keep my options open, to really get the feel of the place before I made my decision. I chose a spot at the bar with a view of both the door and the room itself. I'd never been here before and I wanted to see the types of people that frequented such a place. I was a people watcher.

I settled onto the barstool, smoothing out my short black skirt. I slowly crossed my bare legs before I caught the bartender's attention. "Rum and Coke, please."

He gave me a slow smile before moving to get my drink. When he returned wth my drink, I reached into my bag for money.

"It's on the house, beautiful," he winked and walked further down the bar to help another customer.

I considered his unspoken offer. He wasn't bad looking by any means. With his back to me, I had a very nice view of his backside. He didn't have the look of a wasted evening about him. I took my first drink and pushed the thought from my head. It was never a good idea to pick up the help, at least not if I planned on using this place again. They tended to hold grudges and weren't shy about spreading the word.

I took another drink. I liked to drink slow this early in the evening. There was always time to rush later.

My eyes scanned the crowd. There were a few people milling around, more than likely nursing cheap drinks before moving on to some place more trendy. I suppose I could have gone to one of those places. There would certainly be a better selection and, almost certainly, better music. But I liked these small places; they had so much character. There were always people that appreciated my... people watching.

An hour and two drinks later, the place began to fill up. It was time.

Drink in hand, I walked to the jukebox. It was a slow rolling walk that I had perfected over many nights. My short skirt swung around my thighs. My top rode up just enough to catch the occasional glimpse of my stomach. I tossed my hair over my shoulder. I could feel the stares from across the room. Goosebumps danced along my arms making me shiver in half-felt pleasure.

The jukebox was something of a disappointment. Mostly filled with country music, it had the occasional classic rock or decade old r&b song. I needed something just right for my first moment. Finally I picked B-16.

I made my way to the dance floor as the first strains of Whitesnake's "Is This Love" began. It wasn't perfect but it would do. I stopped at the center of the floor and began my dance.

I ran my hands down my body, swaying to the slow beat. I swayed my hips to the beat of the drum. I twined my arms in the smokey air. Colored lights flashed around me. I closed my eyes and gave myself to the music. I could feel them watching, following the sinous glide of my hips with their eyes. Following the patterns my fingers traced in the air. A single trickle of sweat wound its way down my back. I could almost feel the tongues aching to lick it off.

The song was over. Now it was just a matter of time. One of them would come over eventually.

I returned to my place at the bar. There was already a drink waiting for me. The evening was going well so far.

I noticed there was a man seated next to me. His hair hid his face from my view. His long, slender fingers were wrapped around a beer bottle. Something about those fingers made me shiver.

"Shot of Jack, please," I called as the bartender passed. I threw it back quickly as I noticed a man make his way through the crowd towards me. I crossed my legs and felt his gaze like a weight.

" I saw you dancing out there. You're pretty good."

I smiled slowly. They always said the same thing. I didn't mind, there was a sense of comfort in the ritual. Everyone knew their places and there was no guessing.

"Thank you."

"Do you come here often?"

"Actually, this is my first time. I thought I would stop in and see what it was like," I ran my hand down my thigh. It didn't matter. He hadn't bothered to look above the neckline of my shirt since he arrived. "Does anything... exciting ever happen around here?"

I played my part well. He didn't care what I had to say and I didn't care to waste the effort with clever conversation.

"Not really," he smiled, an oily slick smile. He let his fingertips rest against my bare thigh. "But I have a feeling that's about to change."

Suddenly, I wanted no part of this man. I removed his hand, letting it drop to his side. "Good luck with that."

I turned back to my drink, completely ignoring him until I heard him walk off with a muttered "bitch."

"Another rum and coke." I lit a cigerette and took a long drag. "Thank you."

I noticed the man next to me was looking at me. It was dark but I was fairly sure his eyes were green. He was gorgeous, in a tired sort of way. Maybe my answer was sitting right next to me.

"Can I buy you another drink?" I normally didn't buy guys drinks but I was willing to make an exception. Smoke swirled around his dark hair; it made him seem mysterious. I smiled my red-lipped smile.

"If you'd like," he replied after a few moments. I signalled the bartender for two more.

"So what brings you here?" I fell back into my role with little thought.

He took a slow drink. His eyes met mine. "Actually, I'm here for you."

I laughed and tossed my hair. I was thrown, this wasn't how the dance usually went.

"Really? What are you going to do now that you've found me?" I laughed again as I sipped my drink.

He studied me for a moment. His long fingers slid a cigerette out of a pack in front of him. He met my eyes again as he lit it. I recrossed my legs, a little unsure of myself.

"Your boyfriend sent me."

It seemed as though the barstool, and the floor it stood on, dropped out from under me. I couldn't breathe. Everything narrowed down to that one sentence.

I tried desparatly to cling to my roll, to the familiar comfort of the dance. Even to me, my laugh seemed flat. "I think you're mistaking me for someone else."

"I've been following you for the last two weeks. You're boyfriend was concerned that you were seeing someone on the side. I don't think he realized the... full extent of your nighttime activities." He took a drag from his cigerette. "You've been... busy."

In my mind, I pictured all the places I'd been. All the people I'd been with.

I did my best to muster my pride. My secret was out, that much was clear. I was, however, going to do my best to keep it between us. I was a firm beliver in killing two birds with one stone.

"Well, this certainly puts a damper on the evening." I laughed, my first real laugh of the evening. "Undoubtably you have all sorts of photographic proof, videos and all that.... maybe there's something I can do to make those things go away?"

I slid my hand up his leg and slowly licked my lips.

"As a matter of fact, I don't have any of those things." He gently removed my hand and laid it back on the bar.

"Isn't that the first thing they teach you in private detective school? I hope my boyfriend isn't paying you much." I downed my drink in two long swallows. He wasn't accepting the bait and I might as well face my fate with some liquid courage. He was still staring at me. The intensity of his gaze was making me angry and uncomfortable. Wasn't it enough that my secret was going to come out? There was going to be enough pain later, did he have to make it worse? Then it dawned on me. "I would imagine the second lesson was probably 'don't tell the person you're following that you're following them.' Did you show up to class at all?"

He laughed and the low murmur sent shivers down my spine. Even at a moment like this, I still couldn't control it.

"I wasn't exactly honest. I do have some photos from the first couple of nights. And I usually wouldn't approach the person I've been paid to watch."

"So why am I the special one?"

"I wanted to talk to you." He said it like it the simpliest thing in the world.

"Why?"

"Normally. in a situation like this, I would take my evidence to your boyfriend and walk away. That's were my job ends. I show the person the truth and they do what they will with it." He finally looked away. I felt like I could finally take a breath. "But this time was... different. You were different. I had to ask you."

"Ask me what?" I was getting tired of the word games. I wanted to night to be over. I wanted to face my judgement and try to move on, as I had so many times before.

"Why do you do it?" he leaned towards me, his eyes intent on mine.

I couldn't keep my eyes on his. I sighed and looked to the floor. "What difference does it make? I'm just like a million other cheaters; you should know, aren't we all the same?"

"Usually. But you're different. Tell me why you do it. Please," he took my hand in his. The other reached to cup my cheek.

The world was suddenly clouded by tears. No, no, no. I wouldn't cry and I wouldn't give him reasons. Better he think I'm just another unfaithful slut. I shook my head. "Just show him the pictures. Tell him I'm sorry and he'll never hear from me again."

I stood up and walked to the door. It was raining outside. I raised my face to the sky. I smiles a little to myself. Even the sky couldn't wash away my sins. Walking to my car, I heard footsteps behind me.

"What?" I didn't turn around.

"I just want to know why."

I smiled so I wouldn't cry. Maybe it was time to talk about it. And who better to talk to than the stranger that had seen it first hand?

"I can't help myself.... there is a hollow inside me that I have never been able to fill. I try to ignore it. I try to be good and happy with my boyfriend... with any boyfriend or girlfriend. Everytime I hope that they are the one, the one that will finally fill the void. And for a while its good, I'm good," I looked up at the sky again. He was leaning against a car, looking at his feet.

"Then I start to feel it again... It's like I can hear it scream inside of me. It demands to be fed. So I feed it. I go out and find someone, anyone, that will make me feel whole for a night, an hour, anything." I met his eyes. "That's why I do it."

He lit another cigerette. The rain pelted the smoke, pushing it towards the ground.

"So tell me, why do you care?"

"I... don't really know. I've never asked in all the years I've been doing this. I'd like to say that there was something special about you, something different... but there's not."

I sighed and felt the tears start again.

"I'm not going to show him the pictures," he threw his cigerette to the ground.

"Why?" I didn't want to push my luck but I had to know.

"When he came to talk to me, the first thing I noticed was that he truly seemed to love you. I don't see that often. I see anger, resignation, vengence. Actual love is something I don't see often," he looked off into the distance. "I don't want to see it end."

"But I'm guilty! I'm wrong! He deserves so much better than me." Tears flowed down my face.

"This," he waved his arms around, "isn't going to help you. If you lose his love, it will only make that hollow inside you bigger. Go home. Tell him you love him. Give him the chance to be enough."

I looked at my feet. I didn't know if I could do it. I looked up to see him walking away. I whispered into the rain, "Thank you."

'