A.N. Wow. So I definitely didn't expect that at all. I posted this story before heading to the gym and I got back like…an hour later and already had reviews and a ton of follows, so thank you so much for that. It definitely motivated me to get right back to writing and I am definitely am going to keep up with the story. As far as an update schedule, I'm not entirely sure I can promise a strict one. I'll try to have the next one up before the beginning of the week. Thank you everyone -dauntlessbybirth
I dream about my family, together again and happy. I'm retched out of the dream as if it had been a nightmare, covered in sweat and breathing heavily, and for the first time in a long time, I almost cry outside of the confines of my shower. Almost.
The next few days continue just as the first, with each day getting better and better. Eventually, I start to feel like I might have found a place that I feel comfortable being in every day. I get used the routine of Dauntless. Every day I walk in, Four is behind the bar, flipping bottles and impressing his guests. Most bartenders do this to get better tips and look cool, but for Four, it's like the bottles are an extension of himself. He does this because it feels natural, not because it's fun. If Four isn't behind the bar, Zeke is there. He's Uriah's older brother and they are definitely cut from the same cloth. They both have laughter in their eyes every time I see them. Uriah has become a great friend. He's always making me laugh one way or another. Sometimes he's throwing French fries over the line at me, trying to get me to catch them in my mouth all while avoiding Eric's ever present glare.
Overall, Dauntless is starting to feel like my new home. Each night we're practically overflowing with new guests that want to experience the intense atmosphere we provide and I love every second of it. Of course it's not always easy. Every night after I leave, I feel thoroughly exhausted. The best part of coming to Dauntless though, has been my walk home. Four has been walking me every night. He still thinks I shouldn't walk home alone. Maybe he is right, but I don't say anything regardless. Each night is the same. He bombards me with questions about my family and friends, my dreams and goals in life. I answer most of his questions with just the information he needs, never going any further. He's become a good friend, but that's all he is now and I'm not ready to tell 'just friends' anything about my real life yet.
Every question he asks me, I shoot right back at him, and somehow he manages to avoid them with the same patient practice that I use. I'm not cruel and I don't push him. Christina stopped watching for me to come home after the first few nights. She probably figures that nothing is going to happen anymore, and she's right. Although, every once in a while I get interrogated about the mysterious guy walking me home. When I get home, take my shower, and collapse into my bed. I say goodnight to my parents and send good wishes Caleb's way, figuratively speaking. I'm almost starting to feel happy. But the problem with my happiness is that I can never seem to get past almost.
Today started off like any normal day. I walk in through the front door. It's my last day of training so I'm pretty excited, but also nervous. Lauren has loosened up on me a little bit, but I know that doesn't mean I can relax. Every day of training is just as important as the last and I need to make a good impression.
"Hey Tris, ready for your last night? It's kind of important." Four reminds me as I walk by the bar.
"Do you really think I don't know that? I'm sure it will be fine. I've basically been on my own every night so far." I don't stop to wait for a response. As much as I would love to talk, I need to be ready to go a little early today. As I'm placing my belongings in the employee area, Peter stands behind me with an obnoxious grin on his face.
"Well Stiff, this is it. Mess up today and it's all over. You'll be out of a job and we can all go back to normal." Peter is the worst part about working at Dauntless, even worse than Eric. I push him aside and start to put my bag on a shelf above his head. Naturally, he doesn't move.
"Are you ever going to get tired of calling me Stiff?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.
"I don't have to worry about getting tired of it. You'll be gone soon anyway." As he says this, I let my bag 'accidently' slip. It hits him right on the head.
"Oops!" I yell, trying to contain my laughter. Behind him, I can see Uriah doubling over in a fit of giggles. I thank whatever intuition caused Uriah to come around the corner at that exact moment.
"Watch it Stiff, you really don't want to mess with me. You never know what might happen." And with that, Peter walks away. I brush off the threat, knowing that it's more than likely empty. Uriah walks over, still trying his best to contain his laughter.
"That, my friend, was pure gold. Someone needs to put him in his place every once in a while. Next time, you should hit Eric on the head with an ice bucket." While the thought is appealing, I know that's a sure way to get fired.
"You don't think I should be worried about Peter do you? I mean, I'm pretty sure he's all talk." Uriah shakes his head.
"Don't worry about him. He just needs to boost his own ego every once in a while. It's not like anyone else does it for him—"
"Uriah! What the hell are you doing? Get back on the line!" Eric voice booms through the whole kitchen. Uriah waves goodbye and wishes me good luck on my last day of training.
I walk out to the front to meet Lauren for our final day. We talk for a few minutes and she answers any last minute questions before we start. I'm pretty confident tonight and know that everything will go exactly as planned, and it does. That is until a customer about half way through the night decides to totally derail basically everything. It starts off like any normal table, he sits down and picks up the drink menu and I can tell by the expression he makes, he is not impressed and isn't going to let me go easily on this one.
"Hello sir, welcome to Dauntless. What can I get you started—"
"Where the hell are your prices?" He interrupts.
"What price are you looking for?" I ask him.
"What do you think? The price on the beers!" He is progressively getting louder and louder as the conversation continues. I wonder if he's already a little drunk and question if I should serve him even more.
"Well, our beers change depending on season and demand. We don't write the prices down on the menu for that reason." I inform him. "But I know all the prices and can answer—"
"It doesn't do me any damn good to have to ask for the prices! What the hell kind of place is this?" At this point, he is practically yelling and stands up to face me. In the corner of my eye, I can see that everyone at the bar has turned to look at my angry guest, especially Four. His eyes lock with the guest and I can see the muscles in his arms tense. It's hard not to notice just how scary he looks, like he could snap any second. At the other end of the bar I can see Peter with a large, sly grin on his face. I don't have time for this right now. I shake my head to return myself to the situation that needs my immediate attention.
"If you don't want me to tell you the prices sir, I'm not entirely sure what you want me to do." I'm stuck in a corner with this one. It happens fairly often and 90% of the time, the guest just wants to yell at the first person that they come across.
"I WANT YOU TO GO TO HELL!" He yells directly at me. Any other rational person would have walked away. Any other rational person would have gone to get a manager. Any other rational person would not have done what I did. I straighten my back and slam my book down on the table.
"Would it make you feel any better?" He looks surprised by my response. It's hard not to let the annoyance and anger I feel slip into my tone. The words come out a lot stronger than even I expected.
"What did you say?" We are clearly in a stand-off now, and I won't bet the one to back down.
"Would it make you feel any better if I went to hell? Would it make you feel like a bigger man? It seems like you need to re-evaluate your priorities in life. You see, I figure I have two options here. I can continue to let you yell at me and maybe even break down and cry. You can assert your dominance because I'm just a lowly server right? I don't matter. You can go home tonight and tell all your friends about how you told off the idiot girl half your size. However, my other option, is I can tell you to sit the fuck down or get out. Got it?" I'm so filled with anger that the room is spinning. I feel dizzy and red hot. But above all, I feel scared. I have no idea where that came from or why this new found temper decided to surface at this exact moment, on my last night.
After a brief pause, I guess he decides to get up. He throws the beer list at me at walks out. It takes a few moments for me to realize that the entire bar has gone completely silent and everyone is staring at me. I rush into the back before Eric can come out and figure what is going on. I'm so flustered that I don't see Peter stick his foot out as I rush pass him. I trip, taking another server, Edward, and a few empty beer glasses down with me. I land on the floor with a hard thud and a large piece of glass cuts across my right palm. Blood is seeping out and now I know for sure that I really need to get out of here. Tears are already threatening to flow down my face and I know I'm as red as a tomato.
"Way to go Stiff." He says loud enough for the whole bar to hear. "You manage to piss of a guest and break like, thirteen glasses all within—" He is cut off as his body slams into the bar. I look up to see Four standing beside me.
"Jesus, Peter. Do you ever stop talking? Zeke, watch the bar." Zeke nods his head and continues pouring drinks where Four had left off. Four puts his strong hands on my shoulders and helps me up before escorting me to the back.
I turn my head and yell to Edward over my shoulder. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry!" I know it's not really my fault, but if I hadn't been so flustered, I would have noticed Peter's giant foot sticking out.
Four takes me into the employee area and pulls a first aid kit down from one of the shelfs. At this point, Eric probably knows what happened and is debating on whether or not he should come back and tell me I'm fired or if he should let me figure it out on my own. Maybe if I go back to my old restaurant, I can get my job back. I'm sure my apartment hasn't been rented out yet. It's only been a week. Christina will be upset of course, but there isn't much I can do about that.
"Tris!" Four's voice brings me back to reality. "I need to see your hand. You're clenching your fist too much. I'm honestly nervous you're going to just punch me." He laughs a little as he says this. I don't even think it would hurt him if I did. I open my palm as he inspects the damage.
"It's not too bad." He concludes. "You're definitely going to want to keep it wrapped up for a day or two. You should change the bandage before you go to bed tonight and again in the morning."
"Thank you. For everything." I tell him. I feel like I should be embarrassed, but it's hard to right now. I feel too comfortable having him here, with his hand on mine, even if it's just to fix my broken hand.
"It's basic first aid, Tris, not rocket science." He says.
"For Peter too, I mean." If he hadn't pushed Peter out of the way, I might have just broken down right then and there.
"Yeah, well he deserved it. He feels threatened by you being here. He does whenever we have good new people. It's idiotic, but it's keep him on top for a while now. Hopefully, we can change that."
"TRIS! Are you okay?" I look up to see Uriah standing in front of me, worry spread all over his face.
"I'm fine." I tell him, allowing a small smile to creep across my face. "Just a little blood. How's Edward? He didn't get cut too did he?" Four laughs to himself and shakes his head, although I'm not entirely sure why.
"Dude, I don't know. After Eric came out and found out what happened, he pulled Edward into the office. They've been in there ever since." I'm sure Edward is telling him that I should be fired. I close my eyes and sigh before reaching up to grab my bag off the shelf. If I just leave, no one will notice right?
I stopped by the sound of the office door slamming against the wall.
"I can't take it anymore. Peter trips the new girl, she falls and cuts the shit out of her hand, and I'm the one facing suspension for dropping the glasses? Forget it." The voice belongs to Edward, and he is definitely not happy. He shows up in the employee area and grabs his jacket.
"Edward, what's going on?" Four asks.
"This place is bullshit, that's what's going on. I can't stay here anymore. " I can't tell if it's Edward or his anger talking.
"Don't make any stupid decisions." Four advises, but it's too late. Edward is already on his way out. Another server sets down a tray of drinks and begins to follow him. Her name is Myra and I'm pretty sure they're dating. It seems a little ridiculous that she would leave because he does.
"Well this is just great." It's Eric's voice booming over everyone now. "I lose one of my best servers, I have a shit trainee, and now Myra is gone too. Tris, get out. You're done—"
"No." I'm definitely surprised when I hear Max standing by the office door. "You'll need to work to pay for the broken glasses, but you put that guest in his place. Dauntless isn't like most places and the customer is most definitely not always right. You're done with training, so you'll take over Myra's schedule and her shift tonight, but you don't get any more chances. Got it?" It takes me a second to realize this is when I'm supposed to talk.
"Yes, absolutely!" He nods his head at me before returning to the office and shutting the door. Fury is written all over Eric's face, which makes the whole situation a hundred times better. I feel Uriah's hand slap on my back.
"Way to go Tris!" The worry on his face has been replaced with a smile and I'm starting to feel a little better.
"Tris." I turn back to see Four looking at me. "I've got to get back to the bar. Are you okay?" He asks.
"I'm fine. Thank you again, seriously." His only response is a smile before he turns and walks back to the front. Uriah needs to get back to the line, so I tell him I'm just going to send a quick text before I go back to the front as well.
I grab my phone out of my bag and set up a quick group text to Christina and Caleb.
Tris: I made it.
Three words have never been so empowering. I take a few more seconds to collect myself and come back to reality before heading out and finishing up Myra's shift. I get a couple really great tips from some people who saw the incident with the guest and Peter. Overall, it actually turns out to be a decent night and I make pretty good money. As usual, Four walks me home tonight. We don't talk as much and it seems like something is bothering him this time. I hope he doesn't regret defending me. As I walk up to my apartment, I turn around to say goodbye, but he has already started walking away. The only goodbye I get is a raised right arm in a half-hearted wave. He doesn't even turn his head to look at me.
Great. I think to myself. What have I done now?