You knew she was out there. You heard the hushed yet overly-excited whispers/conspiracies from your coworkers that came out back, where you were prolonging on filling up stock. God, you could even feel her presence in the air, that's how much it bothered you.
You knew that spending more time back here would would affect your tips and therefore, earnings for the night and potentially anger your manager- but you preferred to pay that small price then to head back out to the bar alongside the other bartenders and possibly face her.
What really got you though, was the whole scenario. Yes, you had been avoiding her calls and just her in general, but for The Demi Lovato, known for her sobriety to be seen in a popular bar? Yeah, that was going to raise questions.
A sigh escaped you. Why would she even bother to risk any of it?
You were never really one to run from your issues, especially one as avoidable as this. As much as you loved hiding back here with the bottles of vodka and whiskey, this job was actually a really good gig for you and you couldn't afford to lose it. Nor were you going to lose it, especially because you were hiding from your ex.
You breathed in deeply and began pacing, picking up a random carton of beer so it looked like you atleast did something, you know, instead of sprint back here as soon as you heard the exclaimed whispers.
"Okay. Deep breath. Fuck it, just go." You muttered, gritting your jaw and clenching your fists tightly around the box before leaving the back room and into the energetic atmosphere.
Immediately you could sense her. You could feel her intense stare to the right of you, to the other side of the bar that you were assigned, thank lord.
Purposely avoiding any glance in that direction, although your eyes begged to glimpse, you walked with purpose- carefully avoiding the other bartenders who were busily at work. The actual bar was packed tonight. People attempting to cram past each other in an attempt to buy a drink. If the bar was this packed, you knew for a fact you didn't want to see the dance floor, where the people would be sweating and grinding to the repetitive bass beat that loudly filled the air.
"'Bout time you came back!" A colleague wearing the mandatory black clothing shouted, looking disgruntled as he passed two beers up onto the ledge for the customers with a false smile before facing you after he received the next order. "Seriously, what took you so long?! It has been mental!"
You just mouthed a quick 'sorry' before turning to the awaiting crowds with a fake smile adorned across your face, still aware of the hard stare penetrating your back from across the room. You knew Demi too well to assume she would attempt to make her way over here. She would be stopped continuously by people wanting photos and she knew you would just get annoyed at her if she tried to even speak.
An hour later and your head was pounding as you passed the beer to the dickhead whom was waiting for it. He hadn't stopped his lame attempts at flirting all night, and currently it was just agitating you further. This, of course, was a normal occurrence whilst working. Tonight though, with the added stress of Demi lingering here somewhere, was just causing one massive mental clusterfuck.
A few customers later, and a female blonde appeared next to provide her order- a raspberry vodka, as she leaned across the bar.
"There you go!" You repeated peppily, passing the drink over to the awaiting lady with a large, yet flawless fake smile. She grinned, but instead of leaving straight away like the rest of the patrons, she leaned even closer.
"Thankyou." She said slowly with a smile upon her face. In this position, with her leaning over slightly, you could see the top of her cleavage from her tight blue dress. The feeling of someone watching you greatly intensified and a smirk filled your face, your headache becoming forgotten. Oh this was good. It was mean of you, but the thought of Demi getting jealous, and a taste of her own medicine was almost satisfying.
