His Eyes

22

How have I not known about Brian Posh Pub? It was PACKED.
I happened to encounter with a girl that was attending the same class as me and she told me whenever the party at Tom's were going over the line or when the police somewhat needed to crash it, they all went over to Brian Posh Pub and continued their night there which made sense.
She was also surprised that I had started working here since I didn't know about this pub from before.
I guess she assumed I did know and that's why I wanted to work here but that wasn't the case.

According to the other employees it was packed every single weekend and mostly by young adults.
I texted Hannah real quick, telling her that we needed to start going to this pub but soon realized that the owner of this fucking pub was no other than Leo.

Let's bring that back and think about it for a second. Like, what the fuck is that all about?
He's the owner of a successful pub, yet he's at Tom's fraternity with some sketchy men, playing card games and shit? Not to mention the threat with the gun.
Doesn't he own an office or something?
Isn't he capable to have it? Isn't he wealthy with the thought of his car, motorcycle, fancy choice of suit and the way he's covered in tattoos?
Tattoos are quite expensive and you all know that deep down.
So many questions about this strange guy and yet we fucked in the bathroom.
Which I, by the way, was trying my fucking best to forget but every time I was in a bathroom the memories came flashing back, hitting my mind like a train.

I came back to reality when the bartender almost punched my shoulder.
"Tables to clean, move,"

Luckily, the people that was here seemed polite and I didn't hear any inappropriate comments or anything which I kind of expected. Whoever seemed too busy with their own shit and only shot out a 'thank you' whenever I cleaned their tables.

It was around 11:30 PM and it was getting late.
However, people only seemed to come and not leave.
It was getting rather hectic and the bartender asked me some help at the bar.
I thought about what Leo said and grunted.
The bartender seemed to remember too and ordered me to only give the customers beer and he'll fix the drinks.
I did that and some customers got annoyed of my lack of knowledge behind the bar but what could I do? I take back what I said about them being polite.
I apologized but in my mind I cursed them out in 5 different languages.

My manager came out from the back office, searching the area before his eyes landed on me and his eyebrows raised.
"Elizabeth, care to take a bottle of whiskey and 5 whiskey glass to the VIP room in the back?"
I didn't want to ask, knowing deep down who was in that room and quietly grabbed a bottle of whiskey and stacked 5 glasses on my other arm.
My manager pat my shoulder when I walked past him and towards the room. I had all my focus and mind on to not lose the bottle or those glasses which swayed and made noises each step I took.
I gulped and thanked the lord it was a swinging door so I could use my back to open.

The room was foggy with smoke and it was getting difficult to breathe.
I met with 4 guys sitting comfortable in a black leather couch. Each had a cigarette in their hand and they all looked fucking shady. Dressed in their finest suits as if they came right from 'peaky blinders'.
I looked towards and across from where I showed up and there was an wooden office table and a chair, which was occupied by Leo.
He had just finished his smoke and smudged the snipe in his crystal ashtray.
"Give these fine gentlemen a glass of our finest whiskey,"
His voice sounded more dark and raspy than usual and he looked way to serious.
I carefully placed the glass down in front if them all and poured each some whiskey and placed the bottle on the table, assumed they would want more.

Leo's eyes followed me through it all and when I walked out I heard a mutter that said,
"Thank you,"
I don't know why but I was nervous just being in there. It seemed like there were some serious shit that was discussed and the way the guys in the couch was looking so stiff it wasn't going like they wanted it to go.
They probably need more time to discuss.
When I got back to the bar people had started to leave and I looked at my watch.
"We're closing early today,"
The watch said only 11:45 PM. Poor people who arrived 15 minutes ago.
Soon enough the bartender locked the door and breathed out.

"Boss's words, I guess we got to follow them,"