There's a place where all sorts of demons and humans go called The Devil's Speakeasy, a bar where the humans have no idea that they are among monsters. When Y/N becomes a waitress there, she feels so strange, like something was off about the place...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
____________________________________
Nearly an hour had passed since I came to work, and so far, everything seems to be going well. I haven't been bothered by anybody, and no one's being perverted like the guy that was here during Samantha's birthday party. Seems I was worried for nothing, but that bit of edginess in the air lingers, never fully leaving. I've learned to ignore it, though. I walk around the casino portion of the establishment, listening to the loud noise of the machines with a light smile to appear approachable.
I've had to make quite a few refills already, so I've made numerous trips to Loui. He's such a nice guy, always engaging in a small conversations as he fixed drinks. I hope some of the other employees will warm up to me like he did. So far, I've caught some nasty looks or have been ignored. A small gasp escapes me when a familiar, blonde woman knocks into me, weakening my hold on the circular tray of drinks.
The glasses tip and fall, dousing me in the liquid and breaking the cups when they hit the floor. I bite my tongue to stop myself from telling her off, since it was likely just an accident. Besides, there's no reason to get in trouble on my first day. I sigh and get down on my knee to clean the mess. I want to pick up as many shards of glass as I can before someone hurts themselves.
I put the broken pieces on the tray carefully, as to not cut myself, ignoring the waitress who was starting down at me with narrowed eyes. Instead of bending down to help me, apologizing or even walking away, the woman steps on my hand hard, causing the sharp glass to scrape and cut my flesh. I grunt in pain as her heel digs into it before stepping off and walking away with the flip of her hair. I wince as I bring my hand to my chest, tears welling in my E/C eyes. Blood pours from the cuts, so I'm careful not to stain my uniform as I glare at Sheryl's retreating form as she heads for the bar.
Red eyes glow brightly beneath the brim of a fedora as a proud, blonde waitress approaches the bar. Outwardly, Loui wore no expression, however, his insides would tell a different story. Sheryl stands in front of the bartender as though he had not been a witness to her dreadful behavior.
"That new girl's useless," she says in a high and mighty voice as she sets her empty tray on the countertop, expecting the man to fill it with drinks. Loui clenches his teeth, holding back a growl as his right fingers tap against the bar steadily.
