Scaramouche sighed, he was once again behind the counter, wiping some of the fine glasses. He didn’t know how he had ended up with this job, but somehow he had. He didn’t mind though, watching all the drunkards embarrass themselves was more than enough for him to stay.

however, he instantly turned around as he had seen you sit down on one of the chairs at the counter.

“What?” he stared at you, not really wanting to smell like alcohol at the end of the night because of you.