A Star Wars Reylo AU: The Taming of the Professor

Two

Rey trudged up the steps that led to her apartment. She unlocked the deadbolt and pushed her way inside, dropped her book bag on the floor and re-locked the door.

Graduate student housing was exorbitantly expensive, so she had settled on the cheapest place she could find. It was a mile from campus, and the neighborhood didn't engender any feelings of security, but it was the best she could do.

Since she didn't have any furniture yet, she had staked out a place for a sleeping bag under the single window. A clunky old window air conditioning unit had been wedged into the frame, surrounded by ill fitting pieces of cardboard held in place with thick blue painter's tape to keep out the air around it. The unit ticked and banged, and sometimes blew cool air. It also blew out dust, and she wrinkled her nose and tried not to sneeze as she shook out her sleeping bag.

It wasn't yet dinnertime when she curled up and finally allowed her body to relax. She hadn't had time to go to the grocery, so she went to bed hungry. Not that she could have purchased groceries anyway. She had used every last cent she owned on the deposit. Her anxiety over her precarious situation was substantial, but she didn't have the energy to worry.

*

Rey woke the next morning to an early alarm. Stomach grumbling, she cleaned up and stuffed half of the books Dr. Solo had assigned her into her bag. With the syllabi distributed, the bag was lighter. She entered the rental office and approached the counter. A bored woman sat behind it with her feet propped up on the desk, painting her long fingernails.

"Where's the closest bar?" asked Rey.

The woman raised an eyebrow and then pointedly looked at the clock. "Starting early, honey?"

Rey forced her face to remain neutral and waited.

"Shots," said the woman. "Half mile up Central Avenue on the right. Owner's name is Maz. It's popular with the college kids."

Rey nodded her thanks and followed the woman's directions. Shots was as grand as she expected. The dumpy building that housed it had seen better days about fifty years ago. The exterior was stained, cracked stone, with a bright red door leading inside. She walked around the back and banged on the delivery entrance. A tiny old woman with round, thick lensed glasses opened the door and peered up at her.

"What?" the old woman demanded.

"Maz?" said Rey. Stale beer smell wafted out around her. 

"Who's asking?"

"I'm looking for a job," said Rey, with much more confidence than she felt.

"I don't hire teenagers," grumbled Maz. She turned to leave, but Rey blocked the door with her foot.

"I'm twenty-three," said Rey. "And I'm the best bartender you'll ever meet."

Maz chuckled. "S'that so?" She looked her up and down again and shrugged. "Come on in."

Maz led her through a dimly lit, narrow hallway and into an open room. The bar lined one wall, and a stage lined the other. There were an assortment of tables and chairs scattered about, but it was clear that this was not a casual, relaxed spot. Maz returned to her abandoned mop bucket and slopped more grey water onto the floor.

"What makes you think I need a bartender?" she said, scrubbing up something Rey was absolutely sure she didn't want to know the source of.

"Because you run a bar near campus," said Rey.

"You have a cert?" she asked.

"I trained at a state licensed school in Arizona. I tended bar out of state for the past two years." Rey dug in her bag and handed the old woman a sticky note. "This is Vicki's number, the owner at Bottoms Up. Give her a call."

Maz returned the mop to the bucket, plucked the note out of Rey's hand, and walked away. When she returned, there was a thoughtful expression on her formerly annoyed face.

"Well, well," she said. "Tonight. Nine. Wear black. I'll pay you a base, but you survive on tips. You've got 'til 2 am close to prove that you're as good as you and Vicki claim you are. Give me your license."

She handed over her ID. Maz returned, and shook her hand. "Impress me tonight, and you can have your pick of shifts. You are right, I'm short on help."

Stomach protesting, Rey made her way down to campus. She stopped by the graduate student coordinator's office. The woman smiled widely and motioned Rey in. 

"Phasma," said the blonde, introducing herself. Her accent was heavy. Polish, maybe? Rey was often around international students, and had grown accustomed to a variety of accents, but she was terrible at matching them up with their country of origin. 

Phasma handed Rey a set of keys. "This one opens the office - the copier is in there. You'll have to do all of Dr. Solo's copying, because he breaks the machine every time he tries. Are you good with jammed copiers?" Rey nodded, and Phasma continued. "Good. The other key opens the shared grad student office. The little key opens your filing cabinet." 

Her face twisted in thought. "Oh! I'm supposed to give you Ben's office key. Hold on." 

Rey hadn't seen Dr. Solo's first name on anything yet. She found a picture on the wall of the current faculty and snorted in suppressed laughter when she located the picture of Dr. Hux. Armitage. What a name! She bit her lip so she could get control of herself before Phasma returned. His photograph matched her mental image of him - pretentious and petulent. The idea of having been assigned to him instead of Dr. Solo sobered her right up. 

Phasma returned and placed a third key in her hand. "Dr. Solo's office. Don't lose it, it's the only spare. I'm frankly shocked that he requested I give you his office key. I guess we give these tenured profs whatever they want though. Alright, well you know where to find me. A word of advice?" 

Rey nodded. 

"Don't get behind on your reading," said Phasma. "Dr. Solo is not a lenient man." 

"Yes, ma'am," said Rey. "Thank you for the keys."