an unkindness of ravens

vingt-trois

— vingt-trois ; twenty three —

"SO, ARE YOU SOME kind of hotshot celebrity now?"

Henri was struggling to remember all the different drink orders he'd received from the large group at the bar and tapping it into the cashier, so it took him a moment to realise Zena's question was directed towards him. It was the first shift they were working together since Henri's first, as he'd been placed with other older bartenders when he worked during the week. She was drying off a rack of tumblers with a cloth and looking at him expectantly.

"What?" he frowned.

"I'm a student at Edgar Allan, too," she said, which wasn't all that surprising. She looked older than him but still young enough to be a student. The only other bartender close to his own age. "I've seen the news, same as anyone else who studies here."

Henri tapped a button and the cash slot popped open. "I'm not a hotshot celebrity, that would be Jean. I'm just his younger brother."

"That's a matter of opinion," Zena said. "You play Exy as good as him?"

"I don't think I can give an objective answer to that."

Zena leant against the counter. "I guess we'll find out at the game next Friday, hm? You look just like him," she commented, earning Henri's full attention for the first time during the conversation. His hands stilled on the bottle of prosecco he'd reached for and he turned to look at her. "Same hair, same eyes. I thought you looked familiar when I first saw you."

"Did you know him?" Henri asked.

"Hmmm, I suppose that's one way of putting it." Henri looked at her suspiciously when she just smirked. "What's the deal there? Recruiting you to the Ravens only after he left?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Henri said, pouring the bubbly prosecco into the cocktail glass. "You and everyone else."

"Still playing the mysterious role I see. Is that why you chose this place to work at? To avoid the truth coming out?"

"You've thought it through more than I did," Henri admitted. "In all honesty, I didn't even consider that. I just needed a place that would hire me regardless of my age, no questions asked."

"Nineteen?"

Henri didn't get a chance to respond, because he had apparently taken too long putting together the drinks and one of the guys in the group snapped his fingers impatiently in Henri's face. Henri gritted his teeth, considered the merit of spitting in his drink, and finished the order. Even though this was his fourth time working behind the bar, he still had to consult the menu or Zena every so often to make sure he added the right amount of coffee liquor or raspberry vodka. Some of the drinks he made were downright bizarre, along with the discovery of what a Bloody Mary was.

He was working a longer shift of six hours tonight, from nine till two in the morning. He'd be exhausted for morning practice but at least it was a Saturday and he could catch up during the day on the sleep he missed at night. Unfortunately for him, the late hour meant more creepy pedos were on the prowl, and he ended up dragged into a conversation with one who refused to leave him alone.

"You're pretty good with your hands there." The man leant against the bar and smirked at Henri as he poured out the fourth brandy he had ordered. "Anything else they're good at?"

"No," Henri said coolly.

"Well, that's a shame," he drawled. "Maybe we could change that?"

Henri slid the drink across the bar towards him and forced the most ingenious smile he could manage. "Is there anything else I can get you?"