Page 1 of On Your Life

Prologue

Conner

March 22, 2025: The night of…

I’m not supposed to be out tonight. I have work tomorrow but I couldn’t stand the thought of sitting alone at home, drinking my problems away with nothing but the silence to keep me company. If I’m going to make bad decisions I might as well do it somewhere with company.

My phone vibrates in my pocket but I don’t want to deal with that right now. The never ending bitching from the stupid device is enough to make me want to run headfirst into a wall. This is supposed to be a good night and I don’t need it ruined by problems that can wait until morning.

The music is loud enough to make my head hurt, or it’s the impending hangover starting to creep in. Either way I ignore it and take another long swig of my drink. You’d think after so many years this shit would get old but there’s something about being surrounded by a bunch of strangers that you’ll never see again that gets my blood pumping.

I can say or do anything I want and half of these people won’t remember me by morning, or they’ll be long gone, on the way to their next stop.

Sawtooth is an interstate town. Ninety percent of the people that come through are only in for a night or two. They’re on their way to vacations or some other bullshit destination, not staying for the sights that’s for damn sure. Unless they have family here or they’re visiting the prison, there’s no reason to stick around.

It’s one in the morning and my best friend is at the bar talking to some ditsy blonde that I’m sure he’ll take home. I haven’t found anyone here that’s worth my time, yet.

The dating scene in Sawtooth is laughable. People that actually live here struggle to find anyone that they didn’t know throughout the awkward teenage years. Anytime I manage to find someone that I haven’t known for the majority of my life, they’re so self absorbed that they’re impossible to tolerate.

Small talk bores the hell out of me and I usually end up wasting my time, and money, on someone who is most likely in her fuck-all-men phase, it’s exhausting.

My gaze travels around to see if anyone new has shown up. The local dive bar is an actual shit hole. Old road signs line every square inch of the decaying wooden walls. I’m sure if there was more light in here, other than literal fucking christmas lights between the rafters, the bugs would scare everyone off. Cigarette butts are in any crevice that’s available. At this point they’re a part of the building's structure. The place would collapse without those and the spent gum under the tall tables. We are packed shoulder to shoulder listening to washed up 90s music and to be honest, I couldn’t be happier.

The jack and coke that I‘ve been walking around with is now watered down. I place it on the nearest table and look around for my friend again to see if he’s ready for another round or if it’s quitting time. Someone else sits at the barstool he was previously occupying and I have to fight the eye roll that threatens to escape. Why couldn’t he just throw the bitch in the back seat and drop me off at home?

I’m sure they’ve already made it back to his place by now. Little does she know, she’ll be just another notch on his belt that’s knocking on his door for the next two weeks.

He’s in the same boat as I am. We’ve been burned one too many times by bitches who think they should be worshipped like royalty when in reality they’re no better than the common people.

The bar top looks like it’s getting more and more crowded. To be honest, I didn’t feel like fighting my way through the sea of bodies until I spotted the solution to all of my current problems perched on a stool at the end. A smile tugs at my lips as my eyes land on my prize for the night.

I have to push through a cloud of BO and cigarette smoke to get across the room, hoping that the residual smell doesn’t stick to me. That’s the last thing I need is my game being thrown off thanks to someone else’s shit hygiene.

Her head bobs as she orders a drink from the bartender. I’m looking forward to seeing that image from above later on tonight. I can practically feel each strand of her dark hair laced between my fingers already.

It falls straight down her back, not a single strand out of place, leading right to the thong that’s poking out of her jeans. Hardly anything is left to the imagination. If she were my girl she wouldn’t even leave the house looking like that. It’s basically an invitation for people to hit on you. The only thing missing is a flashing neon sign over her head that says EASY.

She should be perfect. Even before I sit down I know that she isn’t the type to get hung up on some one night stand. Women like her know they can have anyone they want and if you make it their idea, they escape on their own.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I ask casually.

My muscles tense beneath my shirt as I lean in toward her. She glances over, looking me up and down before settling on my face.

“No thanks,” she says.

What? She must have misheard me.

Out of the current line-up here I’m hands down the best looking person in this joint. The fuck is her problem?

“Are you sure? No strings attached?” I deepen my voice to really get her attention, it works every time.

She rolls her eyes so hard the bright green color disappears before slapping her hands on the bar top and leaving her seat. Her dark strands nearly take my eye out when she spins and I’m hit with the scent of lavender, the smell makes my cock come alive.

Drink in hand, she disappears into the crowd. The blatant disrespect is like a slap to the face. The bartender walks over and grabs the money that she left behind, looking at me like I ruined his night by making her get up and leave.

“You got a problem buddy?” I ask.

He shakes his head quickly before returning to work. My night has turned sour already.