Page 207 of Seasons of Love
"Love you, too, Dad."
When I ended the call, I felt a need to move, do something, so I left the café and resumed my walk.
I don't know how I didn't realize the direction I'd been walking in, and then didn't have to wonder for very long if the bar was still there, because as soon as I turned a corner, what I saw had me stop in my tracks.
After twenty-seven years I'd expected the entrance to have had an upgrade, but the "Bar Livre" sign was still the same. One thing was strikingly different, and that was the big rainbow flag flying proudly above the door.
Two guys walked out of the bar hand in hand. The music coming from inside was inviting. Maybe it was morbid curiosity, but suddenly I needed to revisit the place that had sealed the fate of my life.
4
TIAGO
"Hey, gorgeous, what can I get you?"
"A glass of Apothic Red, please."
After two weeks of busy work at the center and moving to Isaac's apartment, I was in the mood to feel the warmth of the alcohol in my stomach and the relaxed feeling that came with it. The Californian wine was the perfect aid.
I looked at my phone. Fred should have arrived by now. We'd arranged to meet in one of our favorite bars, which was conveniently located only a few blocks from Isaac's, so I'd even walked here.
The waiter placed the glass of wine in front of me, giving me a long stare before he let go of the tall stem of the glass.
"You waiting for someone, gorgeous?"
If he batted his eyelashes any more they'd fall out any minute now. I was feeling flirty and wouldn't normally have minded the attention, but I was meeting Fred, and the waiter wasn't my type.
"I am, yes."
"Shame," he said as he turned back to the other side of the bar, but not without giving me a smile that told me he'd be game for some fun any time.
I took a sip of the wine, tasting the sweet fruitiness. I only drank wine when I was in the mood, and it had to be a sweet variety with good legs. This Californian wine was definitely my favorite.
Fred would no doubt tell me off for my choice of wine, since he preferred Portuguese brands, but I always found them too dry.
I took another sip and looked toward the door once again. Someone was coming in, and from the body type, it looked like it could be Fred, but as soon as the man came through the second set of doors, I realized it wasn't.
Rather than getting back to my drink and texting Fred, I kept looking at the man because my eyes refused to shift. He looked to be in his mid-forties, tall, slim, and with dark hair that turned a salt-and-pepper shade on the sides. I couldn't see his eyes from this distance, but I noticed the tension radiating from him.
He looked around like he was trying to take in his surroundings.
Most of the tables were taken up by couples, which was why I'd sat at the bar while I waited for Fred.
Usually, there were less tables to allow for a bigger, standing crowd when they played live music, but throughout the week, this was a pretty chill bar to hang out in.
I saw my phone light up from the corner of my eye, so I turned my attention from the striking stranger.
Fred: Hey T. Sorry to let you down, I'm stuck at work.
Me: You owe me one.
Fred: Maybe, maybe not ;)
My heart skipped a beat at Fred's text. Did this mean that whatever he was working on could give us some answers on my younger brother's location?
In all the years I'd been searching for him, I'd tried to not spend much time thinking about what had really happened to him. I'd decided I'd focus on finding him first and then deal with the rest later.
The only thing I knew was the reason he'd left home the day he went missing, and I'd never forgive myself for it.
