"Go home, or somewhere other than here," the manager continued, clearly not willing to listen to Narcyz's half-formed explanation.
"And watch out for cars," the waitress piped from behind the manager, looking terribly nervous about Narcyz's drunken state. It was obvious she was a college girl, and Narcyz might've recognized her if he weren't so out of it. She quickly made her escape, walking over to a table when someone raised their hand for her. Narcyz's eyes flicked away from the manager to follow her... and they landed on a face that made his mouth go numb with a hollow, aching feeling.
Narcyz watched the two speak back and forth, only hearing the words 'drunk' and 'leaving soon' exchanged. He must've stared too long, because the manager's large hand was pushing on his chest suddenly, moving him backwards. "Sir, if you don't leave now, I'll have to remove you myself. And if you fight me, I'll have to call the police. Understand?"
"Wha?" Narcyz mumbled, tearing his eyes away from the person sitting at the table just a few yards away to the manager's reddish face. He stared, then looked back at the person, and met their eyes. His eyes. Soft brown eyes in a pained, but stony expression. "Okay... okay. Sorry. Okay," Narcyz breathed, rubbing his head with a hand to try to push out the hurricane currently brewing in it. "I'm going. Sorry."