World's End Dancehall chpt two-14 Feb 18
Mathew entered the bar, and choked on the smoke circling through the air.
Why did he have to be here?
Gosh, this was so nerve-wracking.
'Everyone here must be able to tell I am nervous, shaking, ugh I'm just far too self-conscious. Just remember what HE said. I don't have to strip or anything like those poor girls over there-'
Mathew had been purposefully ignoring them as he walked the long way around the room to the counter. Maybe they liked their job, but it was not a job he wanted to do. He was far too embarrassed just seeing them to do so, but who knows? Maybe someone who knew him was here and had heard the Boss joke about his pretty face and how he should make him work in that job-selling himself-one day. Mathew shuddered at the thought. There was nothing wrong with the profession. But it wasn't for him. He was just glad that he had only been sent to here to work behind the counter due to a fight that Had Not Ended Well for the previous bartender. Right now, the person who had been on the floor had been working for a good 14 hours already, and he looked ready to drop. Mathew had been sent to apprentice under the previous-now dead-barkeep almost a year ago, and was close enough to his certification that all it took was a little passing of money and he was early signed off to legally provide alcohol now. Finally, at least he could officially do a job that didn't make him nervous.
Funny, once he knew his purpose, that was the only time he was able to gain confidence and speak clearly and tell off those who start acting off. It's part of why he liked this, even if his more muscular brother always thought he wouldn't be able to take to it.
Take that, Alfred.
Mathew nodded to the tall man who was still tending behind the bar now, who had stopped to take a drag from a rather questionable looking cigarette belligerently right in front of a "no smoking" sign. Oh well, to each his own, and the guy was Mathew's friend anyways. Sometimes they even smoked pot together.
Mathew slipped under the up-raisable section of the counter to get behind, and slipped an apron on over his black button up and dress pants. Alfred may have said he looked like a dweeb, but it was the nicest pair of clothes he had, and what else could he have worn here anyways?
Lars was already slipping out the back. He had always been a man of few words.
But he had left a cute little treat behind for him. Scattered over the counter tops, out of sight of the customers, were hundreds of little notes. It was their game.
Mathew knew what to do, and gave a little smile that he quickly wiped away in favour of his poker face to begin the first of the line of orders.
Each note would be answered and so they would continue hundreds of little conversations that had been going on between the two since they met three years previously. Lars was still in university, he just worked here because he thought it was fun. But, against the rules, he had been silently educating Mathew and passing along to him his study notes, silently teaching Mathew his own courses as he went through them himself.
Mathew hoped to be able to become an EMS like how Lars studying by taking the test once he'd hidden enough money away, and moving as far away as he could get.
Alfred had a similar hope to run away one day and somehow earn his way into piloting school.
But that was neither here nor there. In between little breaks in the fervor of people pressing in at him wanting, oh, "just one more drink, pretty lady," then he would check over the notes and ask his questions and make up his own study guide from the little post-its in the notebook he kept with him everywhere.
After all, Lars would be testing him on the hands-on portions in just two days. And it was only every few weeks that he could slip away long enough to have this kind of time to himself and enjoy the ability to learn new things. He looked forward to it.
But Mathew was shaken from his thoughts by the giant of a man who stepped up to the bar next. Somehow, Mathew had filled orders and finished his line of people waiting to be served on autopilot and now there was no one to distract him from the large white-blond man who had stepped up, and who seemed much too keen on Mathew rather than on any of the drinks Mathew could offer.
"You are rather pretty, da?"
It was the same man Mathew had noticed watching him since he walked through the door.
The same one who he swore had been everywhere he turned the past two weeks.
Mathew didn't know if he was a stalker or if it was just coincidence and the man's large size just made him more conspicuous than anyone else he passed. Maybe he just lived close by. It would explain him coming to this bar. Who knows? But Mathew was still going to tread carefully here.
HAPPY VALENTINES DAY LOVELIES~ XD
Hope you all have a great day.
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Hugs and wuvs,
North of the North
