Not what I appear

Ch.3

Lycus POV:

As I drove to Moonshine I blasted Scars by Michael Malarky. Not a very known artist, and I wouldn't call myself a fan either, but the song really speaks to me, and I can't count the breakdowns I've had to it.

I was dreading working another eight hour six o clock to two in the morning. Again. I have to listen to the same songs over and over again, and wrangle the same old drunk guys who like to grope me. Same old same old. Then I'll come home, and drink my weight in whatever liquor is left in my shabby ass apartment, and then do it all over again.

I got out of my car, and walked through the staff door to the break room, then walked to the full body mirror on the other side of the room with one of those signs that read 'Is your smile service ready?' No. The answer is no. The non existent smile on my face is not service ready! I can't wait to go out there and be nice to disgusting old people that call me young lady, or honey. I get it. The hormones didn't really work so I kind of sound like a deep voices chick, but Jesus Christ I have worked here forever and everyone should know I am a god damn man! The Testosterone gets burnt off by my werewolf metabolism it fucking sucks.

I slicked my hair back, and walked back out into the bar, and behind to take my post and serve drinks. Thank gods Corrine was working or I probably wouldn't survive. She was by far the most refreshing coworker to exist. Since Moonshine is basically on neutral territory who works here is just based on who the owners Carson, and Ace take a shine to.

Corrine was a spitfire dampire. For those who are unfamiliar dampires are children born of a human and a vampire. Generally the vampire parent is the mother seeing as the baby needs blood and most humans aren't too keen on drinking it even to preserve their young. Although on occasion there are the good ones who are open to it. Regardless Corrine is the most down to earth chill co worker to exist. She will beat the crap out of pretty much anyone that doesn't abide by the rules, and that includes pronouns.

"Hey Lycus!" She smiled brightly at me. "Hey Corrine! Busy today?" She scoffed a bit. "You only wish. Guess you will have to play the piano to get people to come huh?" Ugh no. I played here once and she still won't let it go. "What can I get for you Wayne?" I said to one of the regulars to change the subject.

"Old fashioned, with a few extra dashes of bitters, and the extra cherry because you love me." He said winking. Wayne was a middle aged werewolf from Clover pack that has tried to date Corrine so many times. I mean who in their right mind wouldn't? She has dyed red hair, but don't tell her I know it's not real. She has amber eyes that give the tell tale sign when she is hungry because they turn rose red. She is kind of a party girl but believe it or not she doesn't care to drink alcohol much. She is about five foot six, which might I add is three inches taller than myself. And she is absolutely gorgeous.

Anyway, I made his old fashioned, and might I say it smelled heavenly much better than the smell of food that was making me feel nauseous. It was time to go out and add a different taste to my mouth. "Corrine I'm going to go out for a cig I'll be back in a few." She just rolled her eyes in response. As I made my way out the door I heard her call "Sure leave me all alone behind the bar to inhale a death stick!"

All I could do was chuckle. Lighting my cigarette I took a deep puff, and I couldn't help but revel in the thickness in my lungs and the taste it left on my lips. I know to normal people it sounds disgusting, but for me it was a personal heaven.

As my cigarette came to an end I reluctantly made my way back inside to the now much busier bar to make a group of basic bitches a plethora of cosmopolitans, and extra dirty martini because god forbid you enjoy the flavor of the gin.
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God I hate open mic night. It is now midnight and I have heard those girls who are now very drunk might I add sing every pop song I've ever loathed a couple times over. They only stopped long enough for some of the old guys to sing a few country songs. Just as Carly Rae Jepsen starts for the third time I get a whiff of the most intoxicating scent. It's like right before a thunderstorm the thick moisture smell, mixed with pine, and a hint of whiskey. I could drink in that scent forever.

That scent walked in with three other men, and my, my was he delicious. Tall, and chiseled, chocolate brown hair, and green orbs to match. A slight stubble shone on his face making him all the more sexy. Jesus this man dripped unadulterated sex appeal. I couldn't be caught staring too long for fear my arousal be scented in the air. Shit the sight of this man could send me into heat. He must have been at least six foot three maybe even four. A whole god damn foot taller than me.

"Hello beautiful. What's your favorite drink to make?" I looked up from my post at the bar and met his beautiful sea foam eyes, and I could immediately tell that this god was my mate. Oh shit I could just about crap myself. "Um, um. I- um. Could you repeat the question?" I said clearing my throat trying to shake myself back from my daze.

He just chuckled a bit and it sounded like angel choirs. Oh no. I can not have a mate. I am way too broken to make this man be with me. I have too much baggage. I will not complicate his life. I'll just have to reject him so he can find his second chance mate. "Sweetheart?" He said. Oh. This will be much easier. He thinks I am a chick. The fact that he is supposed to be my mate and still got it wrong made tears brim in the corners of my eyes, but I wouldn't let them fall yet.

" I asked what your favorite drink to make was, gorgeous." Ugh of course I'm reminded of why I hate work all over again. I'm sure I'm not masking my scowl very well. "Corrine I'm going to go smoke again." I deadpan and leave no room for her to argue. With that I leave back through the staff room to through the exit to re coat my lungs in the thick cancerous smoke. This is why I fucking hate living. Even my mate thinks I am a god damn woman. The thing I hate most about myself once again brought to light by my fucking mate that I don't even want no less. How much does anyone wanna bet that he is a homophobic jackass also? I'll take those odds. I may not even have to do the rejecting. I couldn't hold the tears back anymore they just fell and fell silently while I took greedy breaths of my cigarette