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MidReal Story
My Forever Prince Charming
Scenario:
I got up early and started to see if anyone was interested in me, no message, I said a short prayer to God and my mind was thinking about my sister and mother, how are they, what are they doing now?
I was so alone, I didn't know who to talk to, I needed to express myself.
I tried to remember when was the last time I really laughed, I had to get ready for work, I wondered what the hell my mind told me to work in a nightclub again, I started to get ready to go out, the club music had started, It's 21:00, I could hear it from my room, I cheered and said to myself, Valentin, hold on a bit...
I had told my colleagues that I was engaged, and why I didn't even have a girlfriend, some girls started flirting with me and I told them the same thing, I didn't want to get involved with anyone in this country, everyone was drinking, sometimes I thought that I was the only one who had gone to work, they drank all night and then found someone for 1 night and they forgot that they were at work.
I went down to the living room and sat on the couch.
I took my phone and started looking at the screen, I hesitated for a few seconds and then decided to text my mother, hoping that she would answer me quickly.
My heart was beating fast, I was feeling anxious and lonely, the room was dimly lit, the music from the club was coming from outside, it was like I was trapped in a life that I didn't choose.
I closed my eyes and remembered the happy times with my family, my mother's smile, my sister's laughter, I missed them so much.
I opened my eyes and looked at my phone again, there was no answer yet.
I clenched my fists in frustration, why wasn't she answering me?
Did she forget about me too?
I looked at the clock on the wall, 21:15, I had to go to work soon.
I went to the club, the music was pounding, the lights were flashing, I looked around and saw Isabelle at the bar, she was laughing with her friends, when she saw me she winked at me, my heart skipped a beat, I looked away quickly, I didn't want to look at her, I didn't want to feel anything for her.
I started serving drinks and collecting orders.
The hours were passing slowly, I was feeling so alone, I wanted someone to talk to, but who?
I couldn't talk to anyone here.
They were all drunk and looking for someone to sleep with for one night.
I was different from them; I didn't want that kind of life.
I wanted a family, a wife and kids.
I wanted love and happiness.
"Hey Valentin, you okay?" someone asked me.
I turned around and saw Marcus standing next to me.
He was looking at me with concern in his eyes.
"Yeah I'm fine," I replied.
"Just another night," I said smiling at him.
He nodded and then left me alone again.
I continued serving drinks and collecting orders, but my mind was somewhere else.I start to think about my ex girlfriend I thought that a still love her , but now Isabella changed everything
Create my version of this story
Valentin
he finds solace in brief moments with his friend Marcus. He grapples with unrequited love for Isabelle, a patron at the club, and tries to maintain his sense of self.
Isabelle
she ultimately leaves with another man, revealing her desire for something more substantial than a onenight stand. Her interactions with Valentin evoke feelings of nostalgia and longing within him, highlighting his unfulfilled desires for connection and meaningful relationships.
Marcus
despite their differing roles in the club. Marcus has his own struggles, having lost his arm in combat, and he finds some sense of purpose in working at the nightclub, helping to ensure the safety of others.
I got up early, as I always did, to see if anyone was interested in me, and I saw that there was no message.
I said a short prayer to God asking him to help me find someone special for me, and I went to the bathroom to wash my face.
While I was washing my face, memories of my mother's smile and my sister's laughter came to my mind, and I didn't know why they were stuck in my head.
I was feeling so lonely not knowing what they were doing at that moment and how they were living without me.
I didn't know who to talk to or what to do, so I decided to get ready for work.
"Damn it," I said to myself.
"What the hell my mind told me to work in a nightclub again?"
I started to get ready, and while I was doing it, I could hear the club music already playing from downstairs.
"It's 21:00," I said with a smile on my face.
"I can't wait to go down."
When I finished getting ready, I went out of my room and took my jacket from the coat rack before leaving the apartment.
I pause at the top of the metal staircase leading down to the club's back entrance.
The bass vibrates through the steps, making my shoes tremble.
A group of smokers huddle near the door, their cigarettes glowing orange in the darkness.
I recognize two regulars who wave at me, but I only nod back.
My hand reaches for the door handle, hesitating for a moment.
Through the grimy window, I can see the strobe lights painting the walls in flashes of blue and red.
The heavy door creaks as I pull it open, and the music hits me like a physical force.
"Hey, you're finally here," Jake shouts over the music, his eyes scanning my face with a knowing look.
"Yeah, had to take a moment upstairs," I reply, trying to mask the uncertainty in my voice.
"You know, they're talking about you again," he says, leaning closer. "Rumor is, someone important's been asking around."
I make my way behind the bar, busying myself with organizing the glasses and checking the inventory.
The familiar rhythm of stacking bottles and wiping down the counter helps to steady my nerves.
Jake's words echo in my mind, but I push them aside, focusing on the task at hand.
The crowd is thick tonight, bodies swaying to the beat of the music.
I glance up occasionally, scanning the sea of faces for any sign of trouble.
That's when I see her, making her way through the crowd.
Her red dress catches the strobe lights, illuminating her like a beacon.
My fingers fumble with a glass, nearly dropping it as I watch her approach.
She weaves between the dancing bodies, her eyes fixed on me.
I pretend to be absorbed in my work, but my heart beats faster with each step she takes toward the bar.
When she's three feet away, I force myself to look up, meeting her gaze.
Her eyes hold a promise I can't yet understand.
I grip the edge of the bar, my knuckles turning white.
The air is thick with the smell of stale beer and sweat, but her perfume cuts through it all.
The bass pounds in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
I pretend to reorganize the bottles, avoiding her gaze.
A group of drunk customers shouts their drink orders, but their voices fade into the background as she slides onto the barstool directly in front of me.
Her fingers drum against the wooden counter, her red nails catching the strobing lights.
I pour a vodka tonic for another patron, spilling some on the counter as her hand brushes against mine.
The ice cubes clink against the glass as I slide it down the bar to the waiting customer.
She leans forward, her lips almost touching my ear.
I freeze as her warm breath tickles my ear, her perfume overwhelming my senses.
The club's chaos fades to background noise while I grip the bar edge harder, steadying myself.
She pulls back slightly, her eyes searching mine with an intensity that makes my stomach twist.
Before I can respond, she slides a folded napkin across the counter.
My fingers brush against the paper, hesitating.
A group of drunk customers shove their way to the bar, breaking our moment.
Isabelle stands, adjusts her red dress, and disappears into the crowd.
I stare at the napkin in my trembling hands, trying to read the scribbled numbers under the pulsing lights.
The digits blur together as sweat drips down my forehead.
A customer shouts for another beer, but I can't move.
Marcus appears beside me, grabbing bottles and serving drinks while giving me concerned looks.
I stuff the napkin in my pocket and try to focus on work.
Every few minutes, my hand brushes against it through my jeans, making sure it's still there.
The digital clock above the bar reads 23:15.
Time crawls by as I mechanically pour drinks, my mind fixed on what awaits me at midnight.
Marcus leans in, his voice barely audible over the music.
"What's got you so rattled, man? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I glance at him, then back at the crowd. "It's not a ghost, Marcus. It's Isabelle."
While serving drinks, my phone vibrates in my pocket against the napkin with Isabelle's number.
I check around - Marcus is handling the far end of the bar, and there's a brief lull in customers.
With trembling fingers, I pull out my phone, nearly dropping it on the sticky floor.
The message preview shows Isabelle's name.
I duck behind the liquor shelf, pretending to check inventory, and open it.
The blue light illuminates my face as I read: "Meet me at the back entrance when you finish."
I lean against the bar, watching the clock tick closer to my break time while mixing drinks mechanically.
My fingers keep brushing against my phone, checking for new messages from Isabelle.
The napkin with her number feels heavy in my pocket.
Marcus passes behind me, squeezing my shoulder as he notices my distraction.
A group of drunk customers wave for service, but I barely register their faces.
All I can think about is what Isabelle might say when we meet.
The last time someone confessed their love to me, it ended with heartbreak in Brazil.
Marcus nudges me, breaking my reverie. "You gonna tell me what's going on, or do I have to guess?" I sigh, finally meeting his eyes. "Isabelle wants to meet after my shift. It's...complicated."
I check my watch - 23:45.
My shift ends in fifteen minutes.
Through the crowd, I spot Isabelle by the DJ booth, her red dress catching the strobe lights.
She's talking to a tall guy in a suit, laughing at something he said.
My stomach tightens as I watch them, but she catches my eye and gives me a subtle nod.
I finish serving the last few customers, my hands trembling while counting change.
Marcus takes over as I clock out.
Walking to the back entrance, my shoes stick to the beer-soaked floor.
I lean against the cold brick wall by the back entrance, my heart pounding as I watch the metal door.
The bass from inside vibrates through the wall while cigarette smoke drifts from a group of patrons smoking outside.
I check my phone again - 00:03.
Footsteps approach from inside, and the metal door creaks open.
Isabelle emerges, her red dress catching the yellow security light.
She's breathing heavily, like she ran here.
Behind her, I glimpse the man in the suit watching from the hallway before the door swings shut.
My muscles tense as she walks toward me, her heels clicking on the pavement.
"Sorry about the wait," she says, glancing back at the door.
I nod, trying to keep my voice steady. "Who's the guy in the suit?"
Her eyes meet mine, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. "That's what I need to talk to you about."
I press my back against the cold brick wall as she moves closer.
Her perfume cuts through the cigarette smoke from the nearby patrons.
Through the door's window, I see the man in the suit watching us, his silhouette dark against the strobing lights from inside.
When her fingers touch my hand, my skin burns despite the night chill.
She's so close I can see her mascara glinting in the security light.
Her eyes hold mine with an unsettling gentleness that makes my throat tight.
I try to step back, but there's nowhere to go.
The wall scrapes against my jacket as she leans in, her red dress brushing my jeans.
My heart pounds against my ribs as her face draws closer to mine.
The brick wall scrapes my back through my shirt while her perfume overwhelms my senses.
Her fingers trace up my arm, leaving trails of electricity.
The bass from inside pulses through the wall, matching the beat of my racing heart.
I glimpse the suited man still watching through the door's window, but Isabelle's palm on my cheek turns my face back to hers.
Her red lips part slightly.
I pull back a little, my hands pressed flat against the rough brick wall.
The security light casts harsh shadows across her face, and her breath mingles with the cold night air between us.
She pauses, her eyes searching mine.
The suited man's silhouette remains visible through the door's clouded window.
My throat tightens as memories of my ex-girlfriend's betrayal flash through my mind.
Isabelle's fingers trace down my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
