Hell's Best Bartender

Black Clover Casino

"Come on, hurry up!" Angelina pouted, "Could you seriously go any slower?"
"I can, and I will if you don't stop," you sneered.
Irritation slowly crept in as Angelina impatiently rocked on her heels.  You were currently standing in the parking lot of Black Clover, one of Hell's best-rated casinos.  'Where sinners leave as winners' as the motto says.
You were sure it was just a phrase to coax souls down on their luck to come and try to win a quick buck.  Your best friend since high school had begged you for weeks to go with her, saying it would be a fun experience and something different.  What hooked you was the free, one-way ticket to Hell.  You thought it was a pretty good deal that you didn't have to die to go to another realm now.  Of course, you had to get a new passport with a few extra steps, but you were kind of excited yourself.  Now, standing in the parking lot and having to walk the length of a football field to get to the entrance, you were starting to regret your decision.
Angelina was beside herself with joy, looking in every direction to soak it all in.
"Wow! Isn't this place great?" she said.
"Yeah, beautiful," you said sarcastically.
"Oh come on. You can't be angry all night. Why don't you go sit down at the bar and have a drink? Get yourself a sugar daddy while you're at it," she chuckled, nudging your shoulder playfully.
You sighed and stepped through the building's grand doors.
You were a bit stunned at how big the place was.  Everything was red and black with bits of sparkly gold.  A giant chandelier decked in clear crystals and beige candles hung over countless machines and roulette tables.  At the far wall was a live band of demons, and right in the middle of the chaos was a large bar.
"I'll catch you later. Don't wait up for me!" Angelina smiled before running off.
You watched her saunter off, looking in every direction with awe.  You then locked eyes with the decorative bar and weaved through the sea of tipsy imps to get to it.
You sat down in the far corner of the bar.  There were only two bartenders behind the counter, working tirelessly to appease their patrons.  They seemed so busy, but you couldn't help but watch how they worked around each other.  It was a little impressive.  You continued to watch them until one looked up at you.
You quickly looked away and hid your face, hoping he didn't see you looking at him.  Hell, you were practically staring at him while he did his job.
"I apologize, I didn't see you here," a deep male voice said to you.
Looking up, it was the same demon you accidentally made eye contact with.  He (quite literally) looked down on you as he pulled out a small pen and notepad.  His hair was tied into a messy bun, protected by large ram horns and pointed ears.  His outfit was slick and clean aside from the crinkled sleeves that were lazily done up.
"I haven't had many human patrons yet. What's someone like you doing down in Hell?" he asked curiously.
"I, uh...let's just say I'm here with a friend," you said.
The demon nodded respectfully and didn't pry any further.
"Well then, I'm assuming you're ready to order? Or would you like more time?" he asked.
You sat a bit confused and uncomfortable.  Not by him, but by the whole situation you were in.  It was overwhelming, to say the least.
The bartender studied your face as he turned to one of worry.
"There's something wrong, isn't there?" he asked.
"I've never been here before, so this is kind of a lot," you admitted.
He nodded calmly before tucking his notepad back in his vest pocket.
"Tell you what," he said, "My name is Boris. I'm the head bartender here, so if you need anything, don't be afraid to ask me. I'll make you a drink at the house. No alcohol or anything, but I'll make the flavors around lavender so it'll calm you down a little bit, okay?"
"You don't have to do that," you said nervously.
"I insist. It's my job to take care of my patrons," Boris smiled.
After a long pause, you agreed and Boris went off to fix your drink.  He looked as if he danced around the bar, swaying his cow-like tail to avoid the other bartender.  He looked so calm and nice for a demon.  Everyone always said demons were careless monsters.  While that was easy to believe, Boris made you think differently on the matter.
It wasn't long before he slid you a fancy glass topped with a lemon slice and blueberries.
"This is a Lavender Sundown," Boris presented proudly, "Lemonade, sparkling water, and lavender syrup over ice. A fan favorite amongst high-class patrons,"
You thanked Boris before hesitantly sipping the drink, and damn, it was pretty good.
"Thank you. Are you sure I don't have to pay?" you asked.
"Do you honestly want to pay twenty-five dollars for that?" Boris asked, leaning on the other side of the counter.
"Never mind," you said quickly.
The drink was good, but in your opinion, not twenty-five dollars good.
"I thought so," Boris chuckled, "Are you feeling a little better now?"
You gently sipped your free drink once more, "Yeah, I'll be okay,"
"You're brave. I don't usually see many people staying behind for their friends," he said, "I see a lot of first-timers panicking because of the crowd and the noise,"
"Demons get anxiety?" You asked.  Of course, thinking about it now, that was probably a stupid question.
"Oh yeah. I see it all the time. That's why I stay and talk to people. It usually helps," Boris explained.
"So it's not just me, huh," you muttered.
"Not at all. I originally got this job because my dad owns this casino, but it's nice to help souls out and make drinks for them," he answered.
"That's nice...wait what?"
"Huh?"
"You said your dad owns this casino?" you asked, dumbfounded.
Boris laughed at your question, which sent you into more confusion.
"I'm sorry, I'm not used to getting asked that," he chuckled, his white fangs flashed through his generous smile.
"Yes. My dad is one of the Overlords in Hell. He makes his profit off of casinos. Pops earned his trade in the Greed Ring," Boris explained.
You were struggling to see how someone so nice could be a demon, let alone one of Greed origin.
"So...you're a big thing down here?" you asked.
Boris shrugged, "Not as big as you might think. Demons know me most likely because they've been to one of his casinos or made a business deal with him. It's not too big of a thing,"
Of course, he would say that.  He's the child of an Overlord, and probably an only child, too.
"You're confused. I can see it," he said, breaking you from your thoughts.
"I'm assuming you just get everything handed to you then?" you asked.
"Do you really think I live like that if I work at a casino? I'm a bit offended you think that," he replied playfully.
He had a point.  Even if he was insanely rich, he was still working somewhere.
"Believe me when I say I wasn't brought up that way. My mother worked in customer service for a long time running her own business, even now. She would hand me my head if I expected everything to be handed to me," Boris explained, "Both my sister and I work our asses off if we want something,"
"Sister???"
"Yes, her name is Monique," he said.
"Wow. Are you both descendants of  Greed?" you asked.
"Not entirely. While my dad was a Greed descendant, my mother is a Lust descendant. She makes her living selling pastries and aphrodisiacs," he explained, "Enough about me, though. Mind telling me about yourself?"
You paused and looked over to the nearby roulette table.  You could see Angelina sitting there with a martini in hand, though it was hard to lose her due to the hot pink dress she wore.  Your story wasn't nearly as interesting as his, but it seemed he wanted to hear it, no matter how uninteresting it was.
"I came here because my friend is an addict. We had to come here," you said.
Of course, the 'we had to come' part was her words, not yours.
"I've been trying to talk her out of it, but her excuse is one coin could be worth millions," you continued.
Boris shrugged a bit.
"I won't say it's a bad excuse but I won't say it's a good one either," he said.
You looked towards the table once more.  This time, Boris followed your eyes and looked with you.
"I really wish I could talk her out of it," you sighed.
"Sometimes it's not possible to change somebody's mind. That's what you get when it comes to some addicts," Boris said.
You sat silently for a few moments as you both watched the casino and its patrons carry on.
"Say...you wouldn't happen to be doing anything after this, would you?" Boris asked.
"No, why?" you replied.
"I don't mean to be forward or anything, but you're very attractive. Mind if I take you on a date?" he mentioned.
You paused, your face flushing with surprise.
"Are you serious?" you asked.
"Absolutely. No pressure, of course. Just something to think about," he said.
The question was so sudden, and not to mention you weren't expecting to grab a date while you were here.  Sure, you've had your fair share of dating experiences in the past, but they were all human.  At the same time, you couldn't ignore Boris' kindness throughout this night.
"I... I don't see why no-"
*CRASH*
A shot glass shattered against the side of the counter, making both you and Boris jump.
"I've been calling you for the past five minutes, damn it!"
An imp from across the bar yelled, slamming his fists on the counter.
"Are you okay?" Boris asked you.
"Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?" You asked, a bit worried.
"I will be in a minute," he sneered walking over to the imp.
"What makes you think it's okay to throw glassware at my bar?" Boris asked sternly.
"I asked you for another drink! I pay good money to come to your stupid casino, so you will serve me!" The imp fussed, projecting all his anger through tipsy hiccups.
He seemed to be drunk, stumbling over his words and struggling to stand. Even if he wasn't, the demon was in no place to be fighting with an upper-level one.
"You're cut off. Both me and my coworker told you this. Stop breaking stuff in my bar or go home," Boris said.
"You can't cut me off, you pompous prick. I'll sue you!" The imp yelled, reaching for Boris' shirt collar.
Boris stepped back and pulled a radio from his back pocket.
"Security I have a patron throwing my glasses and refusing to calm down. He almost hurt another patron. Please remove him before I do," Boris stated on the radio.
"You're banned for putting one of my patrons in danger. Don't come back," Boris scowled, his tail whipping wildly behind him.
"No! You can't do this to me! I'm the reason this hellhole hasn't shut down yet!" He hissed.
Two Hellhounds in slick, black tuxedos firmly grabbed the imp by his arms and dragged him toward the exit. The imp flailed and cursed the entire time he was dragged out.
"Damn it...that was such a good glass," Boris sighed, cleaning up the shards and throwing them into a box of more broken glass.
"Boris, you're bleeding," You said.
He looked down at his arm which trickled bright red blood.
"Oh, it's okay. We have a safety kit in the back," he said, pulling a napkin from one of the nearby dispensers, "It's not a big deal,"
He pressed the napkin against his skin.
"So," Boris said, looking at you with a soft expression, "About that date?"