Name: Enrique Rivera, or "Eric" for those passengers that even bother to glance at his name tag.
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Appearance: Tall, tan, and handsome. Isn't that how they like them? With short, wavy black hair and soft stubble running along his jawline, Enrique could be confused with most any other crew service member in his black vest and poorly ironed button up underneath. The only reason he stands apart is his location, placed squarely behind the bar with a mixer in one hand and a tiny umbrella in the other. After all, passengers tend to remember their bartender—whether they stiff on the tip or not. Regardless, Enrique is always posed with a loose, sweet smile and attentive, brown eyes hidden beneath the dim bar lights and hours of sun that have darkened his complexion and the thin tan line on his ring finger just the same.
Personality: Sweet and simple, but witty when the moment allows. He is flirtatious as many in his profession are forced to be, used to the constant reek of alcohol and inappropriate glances. Always smiling, even when an misplaced hand graces his skin or attaches to his clothing. Enrique is a listener, always has been. Someone to lay problems upon as a steady wall to bounce ideas off of and receive sympathy from. The only betrayal to his seemingly endless patience is the thick, deep, and dark circles that grace the underside of his eyes. If anyone was kind enough to point them out, though, he would merely wave them off to ask how they were doing instead, putting every problem before his own.
Crew: To keep the passengers of the ship happy, relaxed, and as far from sober as their package allows. That, and to keep his bartending license up to date.
One Phobia: Losing what's important to him.
Other:
YOU ARE READING
Author Games: Tempest
HorrorIt was supposed to be fun. A cruise into the Caribbean. A way to get some much needed sun and relaxation. And, in fairness, it was. The ship was exactly as promised, and the luxuries were nothing to shake a stick at. It was exactly the way you imagi...
