Gin and Tonic

Believe none of what you hear, and only half of what you see.

That’s what her father told her with that haunting smile of his, the one that says: darling, don’t talk to strangers because daddy knows what they want, you never have to know what they want, daddy will make sure of that. Yuri never really understood what he meant, but sitting there nursing a $98 gin and tonic, the ice melting and clinking in the glass; it rings in the back of her mind, screaming at her to understand.

And then suddenly, she does. Like the quick and loud bang of a bomb, she understands. Understands it even through the burn of the alcohol carving through her throat and pooling in her stomach. 

She doesn’t even like gin and tonic but it’s the first thing that came to mind when she entered the bar where reservation is a ten month waiting list. In her case, she didn’t have to wait, she can come in anytime she wants. It’s one of her father’s many thriving businesses, and it’s as good as hers, now that he’s dead.

A bullet through his head and another lodged in his chest.

Yuri swallows the last of her gin and tonic, lets the bitterness soak through her tongue and glide past her throat. She’s never going to see him again, not even for the last time judging by the the autopsy report describing in brutal detail, the way his skull was pulverized and parts of his brain showered like confetti. He’ll be wrapped inside that box like dead pig meat and Yuri can’t help but think that she’s the one to blame.

It’s her fault, she should have listened, should have been daddy’s obedient girl, should have understood him much sooner. And now his blood is on her hands. She shouldn’t have played with fire, shouldn’t have played god. If she hadn’t, daddy would still be here to tease her about the gin and tonic. God, she hates gin and tonic.

But she orders for another glass and downs it in one go. Her father loved that stuff, so she tries to drink it and understand why. It tastes like shit but it reminds her of daddy so she keeps at it, keeps downing the stupid drink to erase the guilt and sorrow.

It doesn’t work like it’s intended to because once she gets home to her cold empty house at 90210, the misery dumps on her like the world on Atlas, and she cries through the night wishing she never should have signed that deal with the devil.

So really, believe none of what you see either.