Clockwork | ONC 2021 Entry (at first)

Chapter Two

Listen to the above ambience while reading.

Adrienne doesn't look too happy when I return to the bar. "The one time I let you go off, you come back late!"

"I'm so, so sorry." I hastily apologize. "A 5 wouldn't let me go, and I completely lost track of time. I promise it will never happen again."

She sighs. "I understand. You're a hard worker, and it just wasn't like you to be late. I'll let you off the hook this time since it's never happened before, but next time I won't be as forgiving."

I bow my head in thanks. "I promise this will never happen again, thank you for your kindness."

She nods, attempting to come off as stern, but a smile itches on the corner of her mouth. "Go on, now--we've got customers waiting."

Not wanting to delay my work any longer, I hop in and out of the kitchen and struggle to tie my oversized apron. The line of people are trickling in two at a time, even more frequently now that it's about the time everyone's returning from work. I avert eyes, make little conversation, and hurry along orders while somehow manage to make the atmosphere friendly. Except the friendliness is probably coming from Adrienne, who works right by me and greets each customer with a welcoming and dazzling smile. It's almost blinding, working next to her sometimes.

I serve a Bloody Mary to a middle-aged man, graying hair slicked back on his head. He spills a bit of the drink on his suit, but I don't mention this to him and let him continue his drink in peace. A bunch of girls about my age come up next, all gossip and chattering, hair pulled back into elaborate ponytails I can't even think of pulling off with my hair. Their laughs are musical, filling up the room, and they take shots, downing them in an old booth in the corner. After they've taken several shots, the volume of their laughter increases and becomes more of a drunken sound--no longer the musical sound they'd made earlier.

It's about 10 now, and my shift ends soon. I serve a couple more drinks, and wipe off the booth countertop after the girls stagger out of their seats. I wonder how they're going to get home, but I don't give that much thought. I'm pouring myself a beer from the tap and am taking a sip when a particularly unusual stranger comes through the door.

It's about the time now when people don't come here for business or fun--they come alone, often if there's something on their mind or with the thought that beer mends the broken-hearted. It doesn't, and I know firsthand, yet they come anyway.

But this person is different. Cloaked in mahogany outerwear and features concealed by a hood, the stranger calls attention as he sits down at the bar right in front of me and lets a handful of coins fall onto the counter. They glint in the light, and that's when I realize they're not just any coins. They're gold, not silver or bronze--the coins most often used in this part of Chrono... and they're worth loads.

A silence falls throughout the bar as everyone, including me, stares at the stranger. That's when I notice his ranking--a 2. A goddamn 2.

What the hell's a 2 want in a bar from this part of the town? I can't help but think as I manage to speak. "What can I get for you?"

The stranger's voice is incredibly low, a baritone by no doubt if he was singing. "Maybe some ichor... do you have any velvet?"

I nod, heading back to the wine cellar to grab a bottle and returning within moments. "Anything else?"

"None for now," he replies, staring straight in my eyes and making me feel a little uncomfortable. His eyes are a striking amethyst purple, and It's kinda unpleasant as the room slowly shifts back into noise.

"So... do you come around here often?" I tentatively ask, the first time I'm engaging in a conversation with a customer this evening, and I'm not sure why I do. I suppose it's got to do with the fact he's a 2, and we need to impress those who are higher ranked than us.

I can hear a faint smile through his voice. "Not until recently."

I don't ask why, as to not appear overly bold, but he seems to understand my unspoken question. "Felt like I needed to get more familiar with this area."

I nod. "Peculiar of you to take interest of this place... it's not often rankings as high as yours come visit this part of the city." I instantly regret what I've said--I've been too brash, but he doesn't seem to mind.

Instead, he counters me. "Peculiar for a 6 such as yourself to be working in an 8's bar." He gestures to Adrienne over by the register, counting coins and writing something down in her forever illegible handwriting.

I let out a laugh in defeat. "Fair point."

He is by no doubt amused at his victory. "I won't pry why you're here, but I'm afraid I will have to ask to buy you a drink." A smile deepens his voice.

I give him a sideways grin. "Pretty odd to offer to buy the bartender a drink."

He laughs. "You're almost done with your shift, right? I'll buy you whatever you want once you're done."

I raise my eyebrows. "That's a pretty generous offer."

"And I'm a pretty generous person. Now will you take me up on my offer or not?"

"I don't see why not," I smile.

I can detect a wide grin from below his hood. "Great."

He keeps his word. I move on to a couple other customers, and by the time I'm done with them my shift is over and I take off my apron, hopping over the counter to sit in the seat next to him. He's dozed off a little, mindlessly twirling what's left of his ichor into a little whirlpool, and he's a little startled as I come over to him.

"Hey," he responds. "What can I get you? Pick whatever you want."

"Just beer, please," I let him know, and he calls over the intern whose shift has just started. "Two beers, straight from the tap."

The intern nervously nods and heads off, returning a few minutes later with pints and foam dripping down the sides. "H-here you go."

I take my mug with thanks, giving a friendly wink to the intern as he retreats to the next customers. I take a sip, watching as the amethyst-eyed stranger does the same. "I don't think I ever caught your name," I say to him as he sets the mug down and wipes foam from his mouth.

"I'm Cadogan," he responds after a moment. "And you are..."

"Ana," I respond, smiling.

"Ana," he says, as if trying to properly sound it out. "That's a pretty name. Does it stand for anything?"

I take a moment to shake my head. "Nope, just Ana." I don't add that the name it originated from was Anastasia, the name everyone knew me by until a couple years earlier. Now I'm just Ana Graves, an unlucky half-orphan whose father can't even take care of himself.

"Interesting," he responds right before he downs his beer in one drink. Unable to think of anything else to do, I throw my head back and do the same.

Once I'm done, Cadogan turns toward me. "Wanna get out of here?"

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