More Than This

three

Fuck.

She thought.

What the actual fuck.

Exaggeration might be a common personality of hers but she swore her alarm could've shattered state barriers. It was 9:15 in the evening and she was supposed to be at the bar by 7 so it was kinda given that colorful words were spewed here and there as she tried to minimize her usual 1-hour routine to at least a 15 minute one.

She slept in after her parents went out to apparently 'explore the exotic culture of Shanghai' after their breakfast. She spent the whole morning and lunch watching Netflix and eventually dozed off. Anyone would wonder why she wouldn't go out since she liked taking photographs. Well, that would actually be great if she had a companion. No, to be honest, she'd be good to go even if she didn't have one, but enjoying the scenery and culture of a new country while about 6 suited bodyguards surround her, making everyone look at her like she was some royalty, which she might as well have been, wasn't really her ideal pass time. Like why? She gets that anyone could kidnap her and put her up for ransom but could those bodyguards at least wear appropriate clothes and not follow her conspicuously.

"Fuck! where the hell is my phone!?" She asked her ceiling. But then remembered that she didn't actually have anything to do with it other than check up on her parents which she could do later.

She left her suite dressed in a white long-sleeved crop top, dark blue jeans that accentuated one of her assets and she had on some black closed heels. Of course she can't forget her multiple accessories that showed off her wealth. Her grandma's ring was the only thing she actually deemed important, but she still wanted to look the part of the billionaire's daughter so she opted to wear more.

She hurried down to the direction of the bar, she was excited to have the company of her charming bartender again but was still pissed that she wasted hours she could've spent with him. She internally cringed at the realization that she's being clingy towards a person she's known for just a couple of minutes. She didn't even freakin know his name dammit.

On the other side of the ship, the bartender was internally panicking and stressing out. He didn't know if Abegail was gonna show up since it's been almost three hours and his shift was gonna end sooner or later. He didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed, but either way he was panicking.

It was his day off tomorrow so he could probably get a drink or two after his work hours since the day has just been that day.

He was dressed in his usual button-down shirt in navy blue rolled up to his elbows, dark jeans, and black chucks on his bottoms. The bar was crowded tonight since the open mic night was announced. The ship is swarming with elite and famous personalities so it's given that a few famous singers were up in the stage by the time the lights dimmed down.

"Hey there pretty boy." A drunk woman sauntered over to him holding a cocktail that's continuously being poured to the ground because of her incessant wobbling. "Get me something stronger will ya?" She said with a dazed smile.

The bartender internally sighed and grabbed a glass of cold water then handed it to the woman. It's not usual for the bartenders to deny a patron's request since they are obliged to kiss their feet even if it means letting them die from intoxication, but he wasn't really your usual bartender. He can get away from an argument with the manager if he wants to.

The woman, though a little disappointed, took the glass and drank its contents before giving the bartender a grateful smile. She was then taken by, he assumes, a bodyguard back to the table of a slightly old couple that's talking business with some fat guy wearing an obnoxious amount of gold accessories.