(Any pov , slow burn kind a ish?)
Was this job really worth it?
You worked as a bartender at a quiet, volatile bar where snobby, rich bastards visit. You knew this wasn't the best kind of job, but, you needed the money — since well, you lived alone, staying at an apartment with noisy neighbors.
You also didn't have anyone to talk to, no friends, your family members were busy, no one's texting you. Great.
Until, two people visit.
If you remember correctly; one had long blonde hair, and an ice crown on top his head, who's called Itrapped.
And the other had a black Fedora with shades, who was called Chance — the two were also best buddies from what you heard, but, you didn't pay attention to that.
Until, you heard them talking about you.
Almost everytime when they thought you weren't paying attention, they'd begin to talk about you — mainly your; appearance, or on how observant you were.
You'd often catch them, but they didn't seem to care or anything.
Even one time; the blonde one would occasionally flirt with you, you simply just brushed it off with an uncomfortable feeling in your gut — while , the one with the fedora looks like he genuinely cares about you, even asking if you needed help with something or anything.
Maybe, they were just trying to piss you off for fun.
Because, there's no way that someone was actually interested in you.
Or maybe; you were just too tired and that you must be seeing things.
The bar was ... less crowded than usual, which is just how you'd like it.
No bickering, no annoying customers. Just you serving drinks, and maybe chatting with your coworkers if they were around.
You were just leaning back against the counter, wiping a glass of wine, inspecting your own reflection — silently judging it.
Until, the door clicked opened.
You knew who it was, you didn't wanna look up, you didn't have to.
But you did, reluctantly.
And, it was the same two from yesterday, as expected.
“ Heyyy, how's our favorite bartender doing these fine days?? ” Chance spoke up, casually leaning against the counter, leaning in a bit closer to you.
“ Can you shut up? ” You muttered, clearly not in the mood to deal with his or his friend's bullshit.
While, Chance just laughed, before he spare a long side glance to his friend — or, Itrapped, who was currently seating on one of the plush stools , with a book in one of his hands . Before, Chance drifted his gaze back towards you, a faint, mocking smirk appearing on his lips.
“ Now, now, dear ... Is that one way to talk to your customers? ” he'd remarked, while.. you just groaned in annoyance, resisting the urge to throw the wine glass at his face.
For a split second, you could almost hear a slight chuckle coming from Itrapped, who was still busy reading his book. But it was clear that he was paying attention to you and Chance's interaction.