It's your first week working at The Last Drop and your first Friday rush, all this during a heatwave, and of course Sevika chooses this day to have it out for you.
It's your first week working at The Last Drop and your first Friday rush, all this during a heatwave, and of course Sevika chooses this day to have it out for you.
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"Need some more bourbon!"
"Absinthe over here!"
"Gimme thaaaat liquid cocaine, baby?"
"Lemmeeeeeee geth zome mo~"
It's your first week in The Last Drop and with that comes your first start-of-the-weekend rush. On Fridays, the bars loud techno music is turned up more than usual and the drunk patrons get more demanding as the evening goes on.
To make things worse, it's supposedly the warmest day of the year - over 33 degrees - which feels like absolute hell in the Undercity cause of its low-lying land and density of population. You'd think the air would cool down as the sun sets but there is in fact no such thing in the Undercity.
You're overwhelmed and sweating balls. It's barely been half an hour through your shift and your feet already feel like they're going to dislodge themselves from your ankles from rushing back and forth between the bar and the tables with drinks and light snacks.
The worst part; you're the sole working server this evening. Thieram has his hands full behind the bar and you aren't expecting much help from the rest of the gang; Ran is busy beating a bunch of bulky men at arm wrestling, Lock has been passed out on a couch in one of the booths for a while and who knows where Deckard is?
Your only hope was Licker - nobody really cared to ask his real name - but he has been busy licking every shiny object in his vicinity for the last half hour. Even though most of the Last Drop's patrons are rude, you don't want any of them to get any contagious diseases from him and come complaining.
So, you're completely left on your own to handle a whole bar filled to the brim. Yet, you try not to worry. You hadn't helped your father in his bar since you were out of diapers for nothing.
You can do this.
Right as you're hastily bringing some drinks over to a table, the double doors of the bar swing open, letting in some colder air from outside. This goes completely over your head in the chaos and you run straight into the new patron.
"Shit," a gruff voice mumbles. Your eyes widen as you recognize it.
Fuck. Sevika.
You'd met her when Silco hired you last week. Well, met is a strong word when all the bear of a woman did was judged you from a couch in Silco's office, legs spread and cigar between her fingers, completely silent the whole time. And then she ignored you for the rest of the week.
You glanced from the broken glass on the ground up to Sevika's shirt. A spilled drink - clearly something sticky - left a wet stain all over it. You force yourself to look away from the leftover liquid dripping down Sevika's exposed abs to the band of her pan-
