Sophie couldn't wait to get home. She desperately wanted to change into some comfier clothes and to wash the make-up from her face. The lipstick made her lips feel uncomfortably dry and the powder she had applied before her shift almost 8 hours ago was probably fully absorbed by her skin by now. Her black skirt wasn't really elastic and her white blouse the exact opposite of comfortable.

In an unobserved moment, she managed to gracelessly wipe some sweat from her shiny forehead. It was her third day at Canzuncella and it was freaking exhausting.

Gina's favour had put her under more pressure than she had anticipated. When her friend's aunt had told her about the hourly wage, her jaw had actually dropped (- which the middle-aged lady had politely ignored). Sophie hadn't known that anyone payed their waiters that well.

Her co-workers seemed like robots to her as they moved from table to table, recited the menu, remembered their customers' choices without writing them down and effortlessly carried several plates on both arms and a friendly smile on their faces. Would she ever be able to catch up to them?

Moreover, the customers intimidated her. No giggling students, no young mothers with their toddlers and no grumpy adorable old man ever set foot into this restaurant. Instead, Sophie was confronted with the high society of Gotham. Women with dresses that were both bold and fancy, men with tailormade suits. She had never seen so many guys in tuxedos.

She had felt self-conscious and clumsy all day and had really made an effort to keep her posture upright and to ban all abbreviations and everything that could be considered slang from her vocabulary. Now, she was just tired.

With a sigh, Sophie watched the big clockhand finally move to 12 and then lurched into the staff room as soon as the colleague who would do emerged from it. A look in the mirror told her that her mascara had smeared and that her face was shiny. With some tap water and her fingers, she managed to at least look like a human being again.

She grabbed her coat, wrapped her scarf around her neck and staggered into the cold. Once again, it was freezing cold outside. She added gloves and water-proof mascara to her mental shopping list.

Another downside of the job, besides the self-esteem issues it had arisen in her, was that her walk home was now much longer than before. Yet, if she would get tipped as well in the future as she had been in the last three days, she could theoretically afford to take a taxi to work every day and still pay her rent. First world problems, she scolded herself.

Due to her movement in slow-motion, she hadn't really come far when a fancy car stopped on the other side of the road and a familiar figure emerged from the driving seat. Oh no, Sophie thought.

She pulled her hoodie deep into her face, tilted her head forward, in hopes that her scarf would conceal her face, and tried to speed up her walking.

Her efforts proved ineffectual. "Hi there!", the bald man said in a loud voice, "new job, huh?". Sophie resisted the urge to run and stopped to face her strange acquaintance. Instead of answering, she frowned at him. "I guess, the Canzuncella is quite the improvement compared to your former work place. Congrats!"

Sophie didn't know what to make of his tone. He didn't sound friendly, it was more like he was subtly amused about a big joke that no one else would get. "Thanks, I guess", she muttered, not daring to meet his eyes. This day had apparently not only eaten up her energy, but also her courage.

"Oh, no need to thank me", he grinned. His smile looks somewhat…sadistic, Sophie thought worriedly. "Erm", she started, stealing a quick glance at his face before settling to look at his shoes instead, "are you planning to go there?". "Yep." – "for… dinner?", she inquired anxiously. "For work", he replied merrily. "Does your work always include burning places down?" she asked promptly and inwardly slapped herself. She had watched her mouth all day and now did not seem like the best time to let that slip. He chuckled darkly. Sophie felt a shiver creeping down her spine. "No, not necessarily". She stopped looking at the floor and finally stared at him.

The clothes he wore looked posh, but what set him apart from the people whose tables Sophie had served all day were the guns strapped around his torso. He looked at her like she was utterly amusing to him. Besides the tension she felt in the air, Sophie took her chances and asked: "What exactly is it you are doing for work?". Her questioned seemed to have taken him aback. "You must be new to Gotham", he concluded, the menacing smile gone from his face. Sophie waited for him to elaborate, but he just said: "Nice chat, waitress. Sorry about your work place", and turned to go.

Sophie couldn't help but wonder which work place he was referring to and she was also sure that he was not sorry at all, so she bursted out: "How can you be sure that I won't call the police and tell them that an armed man is about to enter the Canzuncella?". The silence that followed offered enough time for the adrenaline and regret to kick in. I'm dead, Sophie thought unceremoniously.

With silent steps, he came closer, invaded her personal space and threateningly bowed down to her until his face was only several inches away from hers. She felt his warm breath on her cold face and gulped. "You wouldn't do that", he stated as if she had just mockingly threatened a child to eat the last cookie, "you didn't snitch the last time, so you won't start now".

After he had turned away to casually walk towards the restaurant, Sophie didn't even reach for her phone. Instead, she buried her hands deep inside her pockets and finally went home to wash this day off her skin.