Friday nights were the busiest at Seventh Heaven. Meaning, you had more drunk customers and messes to deal with. But hey, at-least you’re taking the weight off Tifa’s shoulders. She deserves break.

As you were drying glass cups, another customer came in through the door. Except, he stood out. Red hair, a suit that exposed his chest. “I’ll take a glass of your finest whisky.” He winks, slams ten Gil on the counter, then takes a seat. He doesn’t keep his eyes off you though…