Abigail, Abby, Ab, B, BG, whatever you liked or wished to call me, I had answered to but under no circumstances did I ever, or would I ever answer to Baby Doll, Sweetie, Hot Ass or Bitch. Ever. So I didn't see the point or see why people insisted on calling me that. I get that I didn't work in the best industry, no I wasn't a stripper and I wasn't a whore, but I did work in a bar. A bar that seemed to be occupied by low-lives and creeps. No good, dirty, filthy pigs who didn't understand the meaning of don't look and don't touch.
"Hey Baby Doll! Another round of beer's over here Sweetheart!" I rolled my eyes behind the bar and grabbed some chilled beers, balancing them on my tray and walking over. This would be their fifth round of beer and I had no idea why they weren't drunk yet. I really didn't understand.
"Here's your beers." I bent down and set them on the table and when I stood up, I felt a hand on my backside. I groaned in annoyance and stood up, resisting the urge to slap his hand away.
"Here's your tip." I felt like I was going to be sick once his hand was in my back pocket. I had to grin and bear it though until I was at least back to the bar. Then I could react.
"Thanks." I used a dry tone and once he moved his hand, I walked back to the bar and grabbed the tip out of my pocket.
"How much did you get?" I worked with this girl, her name was Meghan. She didn't mind having men get touchy, as long as she got tipped well, and Meghan was secretly a lesbian.
"5 bucks. Great." I dropped it in the mutual tip jar, feeling like $5 dollars wasn't worth the hassle of them.
"Rough. I can take over for you." I looked at her, and wished I looked like her.
Meghan was tall and tan, she had long dark hair that was straight, shiny and looked silky. She had hazel eyes that caught people by surprise and caught their attention. She had a great shape that most men seemed to like and I really paled in comparison.
Compared to Meghan, I had long blonde hair and fair skin, which was common enough for the lovely small town we lived in. A lot of the women that lived here were blonde and had, at one point, fair skin. I did have green eyes that changed colour, which I loved.
"I need a break." The guys were looking over at us, keeping most attention on Meghan, except for a few that were looking at me like I was a piece of meat. I felt my skin crawl, and in a quick motion I took my apron off and stored it behind the counter.
I walked out back and out to the alley, slouching down with my back to the wall. For it being September, it was fairly cool but I wasn't complaining. It was warm in the bar, too warm for my liking and I welcomed the cool air nipping at my skin.
"This is not where I was supposed to be. This is not what was supposed to happen to me. I was supposed to move to the city and be in school." I frowned and shook my head.
I didn't really know why I didn't go to the city, something kept me here. Despite the fact that not only had I had a scholarship for Journalism, but my parent's approval, I should've went. But I didn't and now it was way too late.
"Abby, boss says you can go home." Meghan stuck her head out and gave me a smile, but when she saw me slouched, she came all the way out of the building and sat beside me.
"It'll be okay. Whatever you're going through. Trust me." She gave me a side hug and I hugged back, feeling like everything would not be okay. I felt like I was truly missing something.
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So I don't know how I feel about this yet, but it's my first time at writing a Supernatural FanFic. It is a Castiel FanFic. Hope you like it.