This rated M for swearing, sexual and drug references as well as alcohol use.

Alfred looks out of the window as the bus starts moving again, it's his first day of work and honestly he'd rather be anywhere else right about now. He shakes his head, where did his life go? Just weeks before he was going off to college to start his life as a freshman but now all he wants to hit his head against the window. When the economy crashed so did his chances of finally leaving the state and his older twin's shadow.

He mutters to himself as the bus pulls up to the busy station, "A fucking dishwasher…" The tall nineteen year old quickly jumps off and walks down the crowded street. It's the only job he could get and while he's happy he at least has one it's not what he wants to do for the rest of his life.

Second Street is busy even in the early morning with delivery drivers, office workers and cars wiping down the street lined with restaurants and bars. Alfred stops at a small bar with a large green door and peers inside the large front window confused, "What the hell?" He checks his phone then tries the door finding it locked, "Shit."

"Sorry we're not open yet." A male voice calls out behind him almost making him jump, "Come back in an hour."

Alfred turns to see a slightly taller man, "Oh…um I actually work here." He can tell the man is at least twenty five or so with short white hair and warm red eyes.

The man blinks before giving him a big grin, "You must be Alfred. I'm the awesome Gilbert." Gilbert takes Alfred's hand before unlocking the door, "So have you ever been on Restaurant Row before?"

"No I was always told it's kind of dangerous down here." The small restaurant is dimly lit with a large deep brown oak bar off to the left and ten tables scattered around the rest of the dining room.

Gilbert lets out a laugh as he motions the blonde haired teen to follow him, "That's cause it is. It is Harrisburg after all." He opens a door and leads the way into a small white kitchen with a large grill, stove, two ovens on one wall with a large prep table in the middle of the room and a small radio blaring punk rock music sitting on the table. "HEY ARTHUR TURN THAT SHIT DOWN!"

A shorter blonde haired man pops his head up from his spot below a prep table, "It's not shit." His emerald eyes shoot daggers at the red eyed man. "It's music." While he continues to shoot Gilbert a wicked glare he does turn the volume down before reaching below the table in a small refrigerator and taking out a carton of heavy cream.

Gilbert shakes his head, "It's un-awesome to make my ears bleed."

"It's the only up so loud because the fucking frog decided to tell me about what he did last night…or should I say who he did." Arthur almost shutters, "God him and his fucking stories and vivid…God I still have images." It's only now that he notices Alfred slightly hiding behind Gilbert, "Who the fuck are you, another bartender?"

Gilbert moves slightly out of the way, "Nope our new awesome dishwasher…didn't you notice what he looked like when you hired him?"

"I didn't hire him." Arthur hisses slightly annoyed, "Our great boss did…" He looks Alfred up and down, "Fuck you're young." He finally just shrugs, "Gil, show him the dish room."

Gilbert's eyes narrow, "You're the fucking head chef you do it." He looks over at a large stock pot on the stove billowing black smoke, "Uh…Arthur I think your burning the place down again."

"Bloody Fucking Hell!" Arthur races to his stove and quickly pulls the pot off burning himself in the progress, "Damn it!" He could kick himself for forgetting the soup again, "Show him the fucking dish room."

Gilbert just laughs before motioning the confused teen to a nearby room, "Don't mind him. He's always burning something that's why we have Feli but you'll meet him later today." Both men turn to a large metal box like machine in the corner of the small hot room, "Okay it's really simple. This here is Betsy and she's awesome…most of the time anyway. So just fill her up, close the door and she'll do the rest."

Alfred nods staring at the large box, "Kay but where does everything go and um do I clock in somehow?" He's still unsure what's exactly going on as the punk music filters into the small room.

"Yeah…He'll tell you eventually." He turns to leave.

"Wait Dude are you some kind of waiter or something?"

Gilbert lets out a deep laugh, "I'm the awesome bartender." He turns back and smiles, "Sorry but I have to get ready for the lunch crowd."

Alfred blinks, "It's only noon."

"Yeah and some are already drunk by the time they get in here. Its restaurant row, you better get used to it." With that Gilbert leaves the man alone in the room.

It wasn't new for Alfred, he had been a dishwasher when he was fifteen but that was just for the summer and now here he was again. Same job just different place, he slams the dishwasher door closed and listens to the machine jump to life. "Damn that music is weird…" He wipes away the sweat already accumulating on his forehead as he grabs a stack of hot but clean dishes and ventures out of the room.

Arthur looks over as he finishes wrapping his now red hand, "Oh right they go over there." He points to a large shelf above the prep table, "And the rest of it goes in that small fridge." The shorter British man grabs a box of gloves and swears at himself, "Do you have any other questions?"

"Um yeah, don't I need to clock in and how long is my shift?"

This stops Arthur, "You mean Roderick didn't tell you?" Alfred shakes his head, "That fucking…okay lunch usually lasts until two. You get an hour break then you work until we close so…ten."

"Yes…Sir."

"Don't call me that. Its Arthur okay? This place is too damn small to be so formal." The head chef gives him a smile, "So what do I call you?"

"Al is fine Dude."

"Good now I'll show you everything else later. Oh and um welcome to The Green Bar."

Alfred cocks his head, "I've been meaning to ask why is it called the Green Bar?"

The shorter man laughs, "Cause it is." He leaves for a moment only to return a minute later with a white apron, "Here where this." He throws it to the younger man who quickly grabs it and ties it on over his white t-shirt and jeans, "Now I'll introduce you to the rest of the team later."

"That Feli Dude?"

Arthur smiles, "Yeah him."