What's your Poison? - h.s

2.

When it comes to bury me
Put a fifth of rum in my hand
Might as well come and take my soul
'Cause I can't take it to the promised land

I spend the rest of the night making my way round the booths again and attempting to weave through the dance floor trying to sell them there. The later it got in the night, the harder it was to get people's attention. They were too busy clinging on to others by the lips or on top of one another in the booths. I tried to avoid Harry's booth as much as possible, whenever Joe asked me to take a drink over I placed on his table very quickly and turned away, without a word or look. I felt as if I had eyes burning into the back of my head the whole night, and whenever I turn round I would see Harry staring directly at me, ignoring the two girls with him.

3am. I feel like I can officially say no one else is going to want shots. I make my way round the bar to join Joe and help him out, feeling back at home behind here. As I start mixing a double vodka and lemonade, I notice Harry's booth is now empty. "Has Harry gone home?" I shout to Joe leaning towards him. He replies with a laugh.

"He's upstairs. Taking care of things." He says with a wink, disgusting but not surprising. "Do you mind starting to dry some glasses, I'd give it another hour before closing." Joe asks, pointing to the pile of glasses stacking up behind the bar. I grab a glass and start drying as I watch people start to stumble out of the club.

By the time I'd dried most of the glasses, most people had left the club.

"So, what did you make of Harry?" Joe asks, as I lean against the bar, with my back to the club. I don't even know where to begin with him, to call your employee a 'shot bitch' the first time you meet says enough about him.

"He seems like a right asshole. I mean seriously, he calls me a bitch the first time we meet, then looks at me like I'm nothing but a piece of meat. Honestly, how any of those girls are actually attracted to him is beyond me." I say, taking my anger out on the glass I'm drying. "And another thing, you may own a club like this but you don't have to be such a dirt bag."

"And what type of club is this?" I hear a voice behind me say, I realise they have a British accent and that I've fucked up once again. I slowly turn round and see Harry standing at the other side of the bar, arms crossed and glaring at me.

"I...Um-" I can't even find the words.

"I know this may not be the Ivy where posh twats snort coke and drink $100 cocktails whilst their wives cry at home. But at least everyone here actually enjoys themselves here." Harry says, before leaving and heading back upstairs. I snap my head round to Joe, with wide eyes as he laughs.

"Why didn't you tell me he was there!" I shout, hitting his arm. "Oh god I'm totally fired."

"Hey, it's alright. I'm in charge of bar staff, and I won't let him fire you. It's nice to have someone around who isn't falling at his feet." Joe settles me. I've had enough of boys for a lifetime, my last relationship ended pretty badly. Anyway, manners to me are way more important than looks, even though he is gorgeous.

Harry didn't come back downstairs whilst Joe and I cleaned the bar, it was 4.30am by the time I left. I decided to walk home, clear my mind for the night in hopes I can sleep before my next shift tonight. The sun had already started to come up, and the streets were littered with people either on their way home from a night out, or on their way to work. Makes me glad I don't have to wake up so early to go into work.

I promised myself I wouldn't get involved in any work drama at my new job, not again. The anger he constantly had in his eyes, how he looked at me as if he was scanning your whole body and was deep in thought all the time. I would have loved to have known what he was thinking about me, the way his jaw was clenched the whole time as if he was stopping himself saying something. The way his brown curls framed his face, seeming messy yet perfect. And his eyes.