Seven | Niall Horan

2 | Sette

As much as I say I love my job, I definitely have my off nights, nights where I feel like throwing drinks in people's faces. Whether it be a customer or one of the girls, everyone was managing to piss me off tonight.

First thing to really annoy me: as soon as I walked out of the back rooms and into the main area someone bumped into me and managed to spill their drink all over me. And of course it wasn't just fucking water, it was a vodka raspberry. Masculine drink. I had to go straight back into the change rooms and change into my backup uniform. 

That pissed me off for 2 reasons, one, I really loved the bodysuit I was wearing. It had cut-outs on the side that gave me more of an hourglass figure and it pushed my tits up high enough to look absolutely fantastic. And two, it was freezing and the only backup I had was just a black bra that had a similar design on it. Yeah, the bodysuit was small and quite thin, but at least that extra little bit of fabric could give me some warmth. At least I was able to just wipe the sticky alcohol off of my leather skirt.

The second thing to go wrong tonight was Clara. Clara was one of the dancers working tonight and an absolute bitch. She was skinny, tanned, and blonde, so that alone was enough to make me gag, but her 'holier than thou' attitude made my blood boil. I knew she was hired because she actually was a good dancer, but the fact she knew that too made her think she had the right to boss the rest of us around. Not even Harry liked her.

She constantly tried to get with him but his constant rejections made for a good laugh. Clara had come up to me right after I got back from getting changed and told me to fix my attitude because apparently "nobody likes a bitchy bartender". So, obviously that made me even more bitchy. She gave me a fake smile but I just rolled my eyes in response. She then turned on her heel and walked with so much pep in her step I thought her fake tits might bounce off her naturally flat chest.

The third and most recent event to grind my fucking gears was something that I should be used to but with the night I was having, it tipped me over the edge; gross customers touching me.

Working in a strip club means that, every so often, the girls will be touched. But because Harry runs an upscale strip club it doesn't happen a lot. Harry was really good with things like that. If something happened to one of the girls, they would be able to file a report to Harry and he would remove the customer from the guest list, no questions asked. He would also talk to other clubs around the city, informing them of which customers were disgusting fucking pigs. But he also does one last thing, something that isn't in any of the books and may be considered illegal. But I won't get into that now.

Anyways, I was serving a guy his drink at the bar and as I placed it down on the counter and grabbed my wrist rather tightly. I tried to pull back but his grip tightened as he forced me to lean over the counter.

"What's wrong sweetheart? I'll make sure to leave a generous tip." The words oozed out of his mouth and sent a chill up my spine. His mouth was dangerously close to me as he whispered into my ear, the extremely evident smell of alcohol reaching into my nose.