Why I ever chose working in a bar to earn my monthly rent is and will always be a complete mystery. I don't like being around drunken people, and the music's always too loud. It gives me headaches, and probably damages my ears as well.
Maybe I once thought it was the answer to everything because the pay is good, but ugh, I hate it now. The sight of people grinding up against each other is enough to make my stomach turn.
I force another pleasant smile and try not to wrinkle my nose as a drunk lady staggers over to my counter and rasps for a cosmo.
Her breath reeks. I try not to make a face. My boss made it clear everyone has to look professional at all time, never mind the smells and sights.
I'll never know why people like getting drunk. The stuff doesn't even taste good and we get killer headaches in the morning.
Sighing, I check my watch and groan when I discover I still have 30 minutes left of my shift. Last time I checked, it was 9:25. Can time move any quicker or what? Does it want to torture me? Because that's exactly what it's doing. And more importantly, I can't memorize my script on duty, or else I'll have it confiscated. I only have one copy of it. Plus, there's an English essay due for Mr Donhoe's class tomorrow.
I am so very screwed.
Although, I'll admit, memorizing the script isn't actually necessary. Ms Miller, the head of Drama Club, said since this musical is on a very tight schedule and that the auditions have to be tomorrow, we can hold our scripts during the whole thing.
But if I were to get the role, I would have to outshine everyone. Therefore, I have to be the only one who memorized her script.
On the so-called bright side, my boss agreed to let me off tomorrow (and no salary, if you're wondering. What a meanie), and if I get the role, the whole month off. He wasn't very happy, but at least he agreed.
Yep, sounds like a plan. Except I really, really, really don't want to use Katie's parent's money to pay for my rent when I'm the one running off to rehearsals for my own sake instead of earning that rent money myself. I feel as though I'm being unfair.
I'll pay them back, I decide resolutely, as I give the bar table a defiant scrub with a towel. I'll definitely pay them back right after my rehearsals are over. Besides, it's just for one month. Katie checked and she told me that after this month, all the rehearsals are going to be during lunchtime and homeroom period.
Despite my discomfort, I feel a bit excited. It's been quite a while since I've been onstage.
I've so wrapped up in my happy daydreams that I don't notice somebody standing in front of me until that person clears his throat. I look up.
"Daydreaming?" he smirks.
Arrogant teenager alert. Beep, beep. "Hello. What can I get you?"
"You." he winks.
I keep my face straight. "I'm very busy. What can I get you?"
"I don't see a line."
"There will be if you keep standing here." I shoot back. "What can I get you?" God, I hate repeating myself.
"I want you."
"Arrogant much? Well, you can't always get what you want. Besides, I don't know you."
"Well, I know you and that's good enough. You're name is..." he strains to see the name tag in front of my apron. "Holley. Pretty name."
"Ah," I nod to the line forming behind him. "See the line?"
He steps aside and acknowledges the guy behind him. "Please, go first."
I raise my eyebrows at his gesture but decide to ignore it and serve all the drinks to the people first before I shoo him away.
A stereotypical blond girl around my age take the vodka I give her and turns to that arrogant jerk. "Hey there." she whisper seductively, reaching out and runs her hand down his arm.
He's got a full-blown wide grin etched on his face. "Hello there, gorgeous. What can I get you?"
"Mm, let me see." she sips her drink and puts it down on the counter. I debate whether I should take it away. I bet she wouldn't even notice. She pushes herself up to him and leans in close and whispers something I can't quite catch.
I look away, feeling that familiar clench in my heart. I get it whenever I see mushy scenes, which is why I hardly ever go to movies anymore. I can't stand it.
Blondie's probably telling him they should go upstairs and do God-knows-what. I shudder just by thinking about it.
With relief, I notice a dark stain on the counter so I grab a dry cloth and start cleaning it up, concentrating on it like it's my life line, trying to block out the whispers and murmurs.
It stops after a few more seconds and I look up.
Just like I thought. She didn't even take her drink. What a waste.
"What do you want?" I mutter.
"Jealous?" he waggles his eyebrows.
"Yeah, I'm so jealous I think I'm gonna have to beg on my knees to have you take me upstairs and fuck me. No thanks. I have other things to do than that."
He props his elbows on the counter and stares into my eyes. His grey blue orbs stuns me for a moment.
My God, those are the prettiest eyes I've ever seen. I feel like I'm staring into an ocean that stretches on a -
"Finished staring?" his egotistical voice brings me back to reality.
"Psh, like I would stare at someone like you. But, you have pretty eyes." I add, smiling a bit, unable to help myself.
"Thank you, but I know that. All girls tell me that." he replies with an air of confidence.
"Are you always like this?" I furrow my eyebrows.
"Like what?"
"Acting like a...I don't know," I make gestures with my hand, leaving the cloth on the counter. "Some sort of extremely cocky ass."
"Ah, a compliment like no other."
I give him a look. "It was an insult."
"I'll take it as a compliment."
I just shake my head. "Why did you let everybody get their drinks before you?"
"Oh, maybe because I'm famous for being chivalrous."
"And there you go again. What do you want to drink anyways? Leave me alone."
"I don't drink."
I raise my eyebrow at him, momentarily surprised. "Then why are you here?"
"I want to talk to you."
"Well, go back to your buddies."
"Jake brought me here because that dickhead thinks I need to get a life, but he's disappeared a while ago." he looks around the club. "Don't see him anywhere anymore."
Another man comes up to me and asks for a martini and I pour him one almost robotically, too caught up in what Arrogant Player is saying.
"Well, would you like to try a vodka or something?"
He wrinkles his nose. "I don't like to drink. It tastes bad and your reward is a killer headache in the morning. At least, that's what you get if you drink. I think."
"I think the same way."
"Really?" He seems surprised. "You seem like the type to."
"So do you. What's with your cocky personality."
"And that's why you don't judge a book by its cover." he sends another flirty wink my way again.
I just shrug.
"Oh, come on, don't ignore me." he puts on an adorable puppy face. "I just want to have some fun. Let's dance."
"Are you nuts? I have a job to finish. You're bothering me." I turn my attention the a couple behind him. "Yes, what can I get you?"
"You look sad." his comment hits right at home, and I have to blink a few times before I remember the couple's still waiting.
"Why do you care?" my voice shakes a little but I maintain my cool as the serve the drinks. I glance at my watch - 5 more minutes. Thank God. I seriously need to get away.
"Hey, I'm just being nice." he holds up his hands defensively with a hint of a smirk on his stupidly handsome face.
I sigh in exasperation. "Can you just leave, please?"
"You're weird. One minute you're all up for talking and the next, you just close off."
"Welcome to my world." I reply bitterly.
"Do you come here everyday?"
"Stalker much?"
"Any siblings?"
I choke a little. "Stop it."
"Where do you live?"
"Shut up." I'm suddenly on the verge of tears. I don't know why, but you can always blame it on my hormones. Or, as of now, this stupid guy whom I don't even know the name of and is bombarding me personal questions.
"Where do you go to schoo -"
"Will you fuck off?" I finally yell, though no one turned around because the music was too loud. I'm sick of telling him to leave me alone!
He smiles widely, as if this is some sort of sick joke for him. He even has the balls to stick out his hand. "I've never got to properly introduce myself. Hi, I'm Spencer. Twenty years old. Oh, and I happen to notice this club is only eligible to those twenty and above. You look nowhere near twenty, sweetheart."
I want to skewer his hand. I'm a bloodthirsty person and I want than to chop off his hand and jab it into his pretty eyes.
And if he does end up going to the hospital, well, it's not my fault.
I turn around abruptly and scan the glasses stacked neatly there, hoping for some imperfection I can correct. No such luck.
"Don't ignore me," his annoying voice fills my ears and I feel a hand grab my arm.
I shake it off vehemently. "Don't touch me."
Why oh why do I have to be stuck with such an annoying, irritating, obnoxious guy? And tonight, of all nights? It's not like I'm in the best of moods, and I could really do without him hanging around here. Did he even learn anything about safety or precaution from his parents or something?
Doesn't he know talking to random people is dangerous?
And why me? Why do I have to suffer his torturous company? Whoever Jake is, I hate him for leaving Spencer to party with another girl.
"I don't even know who you are, and why you're talking to me. You're a creep, you know that, to just randomly talk to people without a reason?" I give him my best death glare. "Fuck off. Leave me alone."
I grab my coat off the hook near the Staff's Room door (wait a minute. Why didn't I just go in there? You're really an idiot, Holley) and turn around to leave.
Thank God for rehearsals. Thank God for Katie. Thank God I don't have a shift tomorrow.
I bet ten bucks that he'll be here tomorrow night to annoy the hell out of me. Well, he can have fun talking to the wall.
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edited!!! :)
love you all
xx
Emma