exotic | k.th

1 ‣ undercover

"Haru, sweetie, this is for table five." Deena, the bartender, says as she hands you a tall glass of beer from across the bar. You turn around, quickly wiping the thin layer of sweat sitting on your forehead from running back and forth from table to table to here to another table and back here again. "It's paid for already." Deena follows.

"Alright." You take the cold glass in your hands and walk it over to the table where two men sit blabbering nonsense, half-drunkly laughing and speaking to each other. Both of them have their glasses of alcohol sitting in front of them already, but one of them is almost empty.

You figure the one in your hand is his refill. "Beer for table five." You say, approaching the table and quickly setting down the glass in the middle of it, trying to avoid any eye contact and unnecessary talk.

"Thanks, beautiful." The man with the empty glass grins, looking up at you. You cringe a little at his words, mostly at how slurred they are. Still, you're obligated to try and give him a smile, so you do. You try. The gross, half-wasted man looks you up and down. "What's your name?"

"Sally." You lie and take a step back, really not wanting to prolong this interaction more than necessary. They reek. The man speaking in your direction reeks. His breath is atrocious. You adjust the ties of your waist apron behind your back, getting ready to walk away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go serve other orders. Have a great day."

"Woah, woah—where're you going in such a rush, doll?" The man on the other side of the booth says, going as far as reaching for your arm and wrapping his rough hand around it. You pull it away as an immediate reaction and step away even further, looking at him with inevitably upset eyebrows. "Hey—" he reaches for you again.

"Like I said, I have other orders to serve." You repeat, a lot more sternly this time. Looking down at his hand, you scoff and leave. The two men begin cracking up as you walk off. You try incredibly hard not to clench your fists as you walk by other clients.

I hate this fucking place, I hate it.

"Hey, babe!" Another drunk man calls, waving you over to his table. You let your shoulders drop and exhale an annoyed sigh, turning around to walk towards his table. It isn't fun, but it's the job. You just have to put up with it. Hopefully this one knows how to behave. He picks up his large empty glass and looks up at you with a faded smile. "Can I get another one of these here Bloody Marys?"

"Yes, of course." You fake a smile, starting your walk back to Deena to get the man his requested drink. As you approach the bar, they kill all the lights for a split second and then, the smoke begins to fill the area next to the stage while strobe and spotlights start to shine in all kinds of different colors. The drunks, half-drunks, and sobers all go crazy. The first show of the night has officially begun.

"I need a Bloody Mary for table ten, Dee." You tell her as she rushes passed you on the other side of the marble slab, juggling a couple empty shot glasses. You watch her in a sort of awe. She always looks like she's going to drop them but she never does.

"Coming right up, Haru." Deena rushes over to prepare the order, grabbing the proper glass and starting to pour the different liquids. The loud music blares in your ears. The funny thing is that you don't even have to look over at the stage to know the dancers are already out. The screams of intoxicated grown men give that away easily.

"They're so damn lucky." Keri sighs, walking up next to you with an empty beer glass that needs refilling. Her perfect dark skin glistens with the same sheen of sweat that covers you, too. She turns to look at you as she tucks a strand of curly black hair behind her ear. "You don't know what I'd do to be up there, making the money they make."