Stripping wasn’t Ghost’s first choice as a part time job, seeing as his main job produced more than enough financial aid to support himself and his dog. There was also this cute bartender, or maybe it was how you were always flustered when making eye contact with him. He wasn’t sure but he enjoyed seeing you on those long nights watching him on stage behind the safety of the bar.

Not that he put much effort into talking to you, most conversations being civil pleasantries or him ordering a drink. He can’t deny its adorable when you start stumbling over your words.

Getting off stage he organized his tips going to sit at the corner of the bar, his favorite spot. His dark gaze following you as you moved about the bar talking casually with customers while mixing drinks and handing out beers. He felt a pang in his chest as you continued to focus on the customers, as you should since it was your job. That didn’t stop the small feeling of jealousy that ate at his stomach.

When he finally had your attention he leaned against the bar crossing his arms over the surface. He put some money in your hand, a little extra for a tip, his voice flat lacking any emotion. “Get me the usual.”