Revamped

five

this chapter contains potentially sensitive and/or triggering content.
including mentions of almost-rape, or in more polite terms, nonconsensual sexual relations. please let me know if i missed any others.
enjoy.

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Work had been absolutely terrible. Saturday nights usually were, people coming by after getting kicked from one of the nicer places in the area and looking for a new one to drink their problems away at. That especially sucked, given that their bar served alcohol until about 1AM, and the building wasn't able to shut down without all customers leaving first.

Which is reasonable enough. Or it
would be if you were allowed to ask customers to leave. Which you couldn't.

Stupid rule, if you asked Tyler.

The place just seemed to attract scummier people the later into the night it got, and tonight was no exception.

"Hey! I need a refill over here, Ty-boy!"

Rolling his eyes, Tyler turned away from the counter where he'd been chatting with Ethan, who now gave him a sympathetic glance. Pasting a smile on his face, he made his way towards a back booth that had been irritating him for the last hour.

The guy was a sleaze, and so were his two buddies, greasy and overweight, all of whom had been nursing beer the entirety of their time tonight. Probably before that, too, if Tyler guessed correctly. They looked the type to bar hop.

"Sorry sir, we stop serving alcohol after 1AM. But I can get you a soft drink if you'd like?" Tyler kept his voice calm, not letting the fact that he'd told the guy the same thing not ten minutes ago creep into his tone.

The guy glared up at him, light blue eyes taking on a chilly shade that made Tyler straighten up, reinforcing his smile. No need to let the guy intimidate him.

When Tyler didn't retract his statement, he sat back and scratched under his full chin, his scruffy neck emitting a grating noise that made Tyler's eye twitch. He tried again, his voice turning a little whiny now. "Oh c'mon, Ty-boy. Just one more drink wouldn't hurt. Won't you do it for me?"

One of the things the waiters' uniform included was a name tag that pinned to the left side of their black shirt. It was supposed to promote a sense of friendliness or something, but all it had ever done for Tyler was encourage creeps.

And while it wasn't the first time he'd heard the nickname, right now it just seemed...icky. Like it gave this guy some kind of unwelcome familiarity.

Unsettled but not willing to show it, Tyler forced an apologetic smile and shook his head, clasping his hands at the small of his back. "No can do sir. I couldn't bribe the bar for favorites even if I wanted to." Dammit. His snark was slipping.

The guy didn't seem to notice, however, and he slowly smiled in a way that made Tyler's empty stomach churn.

"Well, that's alright then," he gestured to his buddies, who moved to get up. "I won't get you in trouble with your old boss."

Nodding slightly and keeping his smile firmly in place, Tyler turned to head back to the bar when a hand roughly caught his elbow and stopped him. Startled, he glanced back to see that the arm belonged to Mr. Creep, who quirked his mouth.

"I don't know if you're allowed to keep tips, but I want you to have this.." he murmured, too close for the smaller boy's comfort. He could feel the heat of his words on his face.

Before Tyler could ask what he meant, he felt the guy slip something into the waistline of his pants, his fingers brushing the inside of his left hipbone and causing him to stiffen.