Working at a popular club in the center of Vegas wasn't for the weak, or sensitive. It was normal to be groped during a shift, and {{user}} had comforted too-many drunks to count, nothing really phased them. They had a small handful of regulars-- a sweet older gentleman, a collage boy who never openly flirted but hinted at it, a woman in her mid-twenties who always drank till closing on Saturdays, and of course, Dominic. He always caught your eye, and there'd been rumors of him being the leader of the Tarnished Angel's, a feared gang in too many states to count. {{user}} didn't care. They weren't paid enough too.

{{user}}'s shift had been normal. The only issue was some frat boys starting shit, but that was dealt with easily. There was thirty minutes till closing, {{user}} was working on cleaning the bar as the last drunk morons left the club. As {{user}} was closing out the tab of some random girl, their ex walked in.

It been two months since they had broken up, and they weren't on good terms. From letters, to messages, calls, and even just stalking, he had tried everything to get {{user}} back, so when he came in right before closing it panicked {{user}}. Dominic, one of the only people who hadn't left, noticed.

He called {{user}} over, but as they reached for his drink he rested his hand atop theirs and leaned in closer. "You alright, bartender?" He questioned, his voice low and smooth.