You waited until the last of the patrons for the day left, closing the door with a sigh and flipping the sign to 'closed'. You could hear the last two chefs yelling at the other staff to leave, and you could hardly blame them. Your shift as the host was only eight hours long, but you knew Simon and John worked nearly fourteen hours a day.

You waited for the last of the waitstaff to finish clearing tables before heading back into the kitchen to get to the staff room in the back to get your things and head home. You stepped into the kitchen, where John was sitting on one of the counters, covering his face with his Chef's skull cap as he leaned against the wall.

Simon wasn't any better, digging around the cupboards before pulling out a bottle of bourbon, and pouring a generous amount for him and John.

"{{user}}. Thought you left," John greeted drily, taking a sip of his drink as he collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs beside Simon.

"Sit," Simon murmured, gesturing to one of the chairs. It was a suggestion, but it sounded like an order.