"Congratulations," Daniel said, a bit uneasy.

"Thanks," she replied, picking up her beer to finish it off. Daniel followed suit. As he sipped, he caught Monique's eyes turning once again towards the guy in the blue shirt.

"He's been looking at me, Dan," she said quietly. "I saw him."

"I saw him too," he responded, once again feeling an unexpected wave of jealousy. This one was much stronger than the first, undoubtedly enhanced by Daniel's intoxication. His head felt light, and Daniel was as surprised as Monique when he spoke again.

"You give guys like me hope, you know? I wish there were more girls like you," he stuttered.

"Huh?"

"You're a very attractive woman who's drawn to normal looking guys. You could easily date guys with good looks, strong builds, and lots of money, but instead you date normal, everyday guys. Guys like me."

"What are you saying, Daniel?"

Daniel's head had gone from feeling light to spinning, and he realized that he wasn't certain what he was saying. Angry with himself for drinking too much, he attempted to redirect the conversation.

"Nothing. Anyhow, you should go talk to him."

"What would I say? I can't talk to him."

"Come on, he's been checking you out. He's obviously interested. It looks like they just finished their game. I'm going to go challenge his buddy."

"You're what?" Monique asked, alarmed.

"I'm sick of hearing you going on about how hot he is. For the past ten minutes, you've been more repetitive than the jukebox. Between you and Mick Jones, I'm going to lose my mind."

With this, Daniel started walking towards the guy in the blue shirt. As he approached their table, he took a quick glance around to see if Monique was following him. She was.

"Hey guys," Daniel said, trying unsuccessfully to appear sober as he stepped towards them. "I've been playing this girl behind me for the past couple of hours now, and I'm sick of getting my ass kicked by her. I'm ready to have it kicked by someone else. I'm Daniel, by the way."

The guy in the blue shirt looked towards his buddy, who answered, "Hey, I'm Ryan. This is Derrick. Your timing is great. We just finished our game. Derrick and I've been playing to see who gets stuck with the bill at the end of the night, but I think it's a losing cause for me. I'm yet to win against this guy."

"Well, your luck's about to change, my friend," Daniel responded. "What do you say we let the two hustlers play each other here, and you and I move to my table over there? Oh, this is Monique."

Monique gave Ryan a quick hello and gave Derrick a smile, who smiled back in response.

"Sounds good to me. You cool with that, D?" Ryan asked his friend.

Derrick nodded, and Ryan and Daniel began making their way to the other table. Upon reaching it, Daniel turned towards Monique, who had wasted no time beginning a conversation with Derrick. Ryan saw him do this and leaned towards him.

"You have no idea how glad I am that you finally came over to talk with us," he said quietly. "I was getting really sick of hearing Derrick go on about your friend."

"I know the feeling," Daniel replied, forcing a laugh. "Do you want me to rack?"

"Sure."

Pulling the balls out of the pockets, Daniel realized that he was no longer having a good time. The jealousy had gotten worse, and his mood was turning foul. The buzz of the quickly filling hall seemed intensified by the alcohol he had consumed. Time seemed to freeze as the voices of the patrons combined with Social Distortion's "Sick Boys" into a blizzard of sound. Each individual noise seemed to penetrate Daniel's skin, making him feel cold and ill. He looked back towards Monique and Derrick, and saw them laughing, her hand on his arm. Looking down towards the table, the balls seemed to spin as if the game had already begun. Trying to steady himself, Daniel looked up towards Ryan, who had selected a cue and was chalking up.

"You know, on second thought, do you mind racking?" Daniel asked him. "I really need to use the restroom."

"Sure, man," Ryan replied. "Don't worry about it."

With a word of thanks, Daniel turned quickly towards the bathroom. A large crowd had entered the South End, and now stood between him and his destination. Forcing his way around it, several of them turned towards him, their faces a mixture of mockery and pretension. One girl laughed loudly, and Daniel instinctively put his hand to his ears. He found himself stumbling now, barely able to put one foot in front of the other. He had never noticed how big the pool hall actually was, and wondered for a moment if he'd make it to the bathroom in time.

Excusing himself, he moved through the back end of the crowd and into the dimly lit men's room. Praying that the single restroom stall was empty, Daniel felt a quick wave of relief when he found that it was. Slamming the stall door shut behind him, he was just able to slide the latch into place before leaning over the toilet and vomiting up most of what he had eaten during the past few hours.

When he had finished, he flushed the toilet and unlocked the stall door, making his way to the sink. Catching sight of his pallid face in the mirror, he instinctively turned on the faucet and splashed some water on it. The chill helped him recover his senses. He felt childish, and looking up into the mirror once again, he couldn't help but laugh at himself. As droplets of water ran down his moist face like bitter tears, his mouth twisted into a mocking grin.

"You idiot," he said out loud. "You've had plenty of chances. You have no reason to get upset now."

Daniel turned off the faucet and dried his face and hands with some paper towels before exiting the restroom as abruptly as he entered it. Heading towards the bar, he asked the bartender for a glass of water, which he brought back to the table with him.

"You feeling alright?" Ryan asked as he returned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Daniel responded. "Just had a bit too much to drink. I'm fine now, though. Let's play."

Daniel looked towards Monique's table and saw her staring at Derrick, enraptured by whatever story he was telling her. A flirtatious grin played at the corners of her mouth as she watched Derrick lean over the table to make a shot. Daniel turned away.

"You mind breaking?" he asked Ryan. "I'm not very good at it."

"No problem," Ryan answered. Quickly setting the cue, he fired a powerful shot towards the center of the table, scattering the balls in all directions and sinking the twelve in the process.

"Nice break," Daniel said, his voice listless and tired.

"So," Ryan said as he lined up his next shot, "what do you do?"

"Well, I work at a bank," Daniel answered, as Ryan made the unsuccessful shot. "However, I'm trying to make my way as a writer."

"Really?" Ryan replied, seeming excited at the prospect. As Daniel looked for his first shot, he continued, "What do you write?"

"Different things. Mostly short stories. I've also written a few plays, and I write a lot of humorous essays and editorials. I guess I'm pretty eclectic."

Daniel finally decided on a shot, although it would be a difficult one for him. It was a bank shot, and he wasn't good at them. Nevertheless, he quickly called it, and was rewarded with a look of uncertainty from Ryan.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" he asked. "That's not an easy shot."

"Yeah, I know."

"Uh...okay," Ryan said, then paused and looked uneasily at Daniel. "You know, I write a little myself, as well."

"Yeah? What do you write?"

"Poetry."

Daniel felt his heart sink as he thought of Monique. His memory drifted back to their earlier conversation, and his mouth ran dry. His eyes focused on the cue ball, but he couldn't find the strength to make his shot. He stood frozen, staring at the white orb in front of him. Ryan appeared put off by his apparent lack of a response, and after a few moments of silence attempted once again to prompt one.

"Do you write poetry?" he asked.

"Actually, poetry is the one thing I've never been able to write," Daniel curtly replied. He pulled back his stick and finally attempted the shot, hitting the cue hard, but not on the spot he had intended. Daniel swore loudly as the cue banked too close to the pocket. It missed his intended target and hit the rear wall, which sent it to the opposite side of the table, directly towards the eight ball. He watched in dismay as the cue lightly tapped the eight, which crawled slowly towards the corner and finally dropped into the left rear pocket.

"Ah, man," Ryan quickly consoled. "That's rough. C'mon, let's set for another game."

"That's okay."

"No, man, I'm serious. Let's play again. Even if you're ready to head home, I don't think your friend over there is ready to quit."

Daniel turned towards Derrick and Monique and once again felt ill. Monique was sitting on the rim of the table, her legs dangling over the side and her arms around Derrick, who was standing in front of her. Their bodies were pressed together as their lips met in a deep kiss, both of them oblivious to everything else around them. All games at neighboring tables had stopped, the players fully distracted by the show that was taking place right in front of them. Daniel saw a few people standing off to side whisper to each other, point, and laugh. He felt out of breath and faint, his eyesight blurry, his heart beating both rapidly and loudly. He turned away from Monique and faced his table, looking down towards the felt and noticing for the first time how tattered it was. He looked up and made his way around the table, picking up his glass of water and finishing it off. A quick chill spread throughout his body as the water ran down his throat, bringing with it a feeling of rejuvenation and moment of clarity. He had to get out of there.

"Look Ryan," Daniel said, his voice surprisingly strong, "I'm really sorry about this, but I'm not feeling very well. I think I'm going to get some fresh air and then take off. I'll have to close out the table."

Ryan looked understandably irritated.

"Alright, later," he said, then muttered something indecipherable to himself.

Daniel slowly and methodically picked up the balls, then carried them in the tray to the cashier, slapping his credit card down by the register before the cute dropout behind it had time to give him the price. He managed a weak smile as she wished him goodnight, and quickly shuffled through the door into the brisk air outside.

Pulling a half-empty pack of Camels from his coat pocket, Daniel quickly placed one between his lips, then fumbled with his Zippo for a few seconds before managing to get it lit. He took a deep drag, immediately feeling better. He began walking away from the South End, listening as the sound of the jukebox slowly faded. He stopped before reaching the parking lot and took a few more drags off his cigarette, feeling his strength return with each inhalation. Looking up at the sky, he caught sight of the Big Dipper and Orion's belt, the only two constellations he was ever able to spot.

"Can't see the order in anything, can you?" he quietly asked himself. "Just random specks of light spread across a black sky. Colored balls scattered across a table."

"And you say you can't write poetry."

Monique's voice broke the stillness of the moment, drifting out from behind him and up towards the stars above. Daniel could tell by her voice that she was standing right behind him. He could also tell she was smiling, even before he turned around and saw her.

"Hey," Daniel said quietly, uncertainty in his tone. "You didn't have to leave. I wasn't feeling very well and came out for some fresh air."

"Uh-huh. And you didn't tell me this, because..." Monique let her voice trail off as her smile grew.

"You were having a good time in there with Derrick, and I didn't want to interfere or bother you. I'm fine. Go back inside and enjoy yourself, don't worry about me."

"I don't want to go back inside," she said, then glanced at his cigarette. "You know, those will make you cough up all sorts of nasty things when you get older." Monique always gave him a hard time about smoking.

"Yeah, I know. Remind me to quit next Tuesday. Seriously, though, go back inside and challenge Derrick to another game. You shouldn't—"

"Daniel, Daniel, Daniel," Monique playfully interrupted. "I don't want to spend anymore time with Derrick. He's really not all that interesting."

"You seemed plenty interested a few minutes ago," Daniel said, his irritation at last breaking through. He took a few more drags of his cigarette, which helped calm him down, before stomping it out on the pavement.

"You're talking about the kiss, right?" Monique asked.

"Was there more?"

"No, and to tell the truth I didn't even want to do that, but I needed to get your attention somehow."

"A simple 'Hey Daniel!' would have worked nicely."

"Well, it was more than that. I needed to know."

"Know what?"

"You still don't get it, do you?" Monique said, stepping closer to Daniel. Her eyes sparkled mischievously, and the smile once again returned to her lips. "What did I tell you inside about life?"

"You said that it's like pool," Daniel answered, still irritated.

"Not quite. I said that I play pool, write poetry, and live my life in the same way. Everything I do is part of a plan. I'm usually the only person who can see it while it's in progress, but when I get to the end, everything should start falling into place."

Daniel was uncertain what his friend was saying, and was about to ask for clarification when Monique suddenly pulled him towards her. Shocked and most definitely surprised, Daniel's first instinct was to pull back, but Monique wouldn't let him, holding him tightly and looking directly into his eyes. Slowly, she leaned forward, placing her lips against his in a perfect kiss. Lightheaded now, Daniel wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. Far too soon, he felt Monique pull back.

"Get it now?" she asked. "I had to know if you felt the same, and I knew you would never tell me."

Daniel nodded, unable to speak. He smiled and Monique's eyes seemed to light up in reaction, the last strings of uncertainty cast aside.

"Good," she said, the playfulness once again returning to her voice. "I knew you weren't as clueless as you let on. We're going to have to do something about that smoking, though."

"I know," Daniel replied, finally regaining the ability to speak. "When are you going to start?"

"Why, Mr. Nash! Are you always this testy?"

"Only with women who continually beat me at pool."

"Eh...just be glad I've never taken you bowling," Monique laughed as she placed her arm around Daniel, walking with him away from the South End and into the night.