BLACKHOUSE [H.S.]

One

"Fuck!" I scream, slamming the door to the break room.

"Whoa, Katie what's wrong? What the hell happened?" My coworker, Cassandra, asks; stopping whatever she was doing on her phone to look at me. Her face was full of concern.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this Cass. I have to get out of this place." I sit down at the round break table, my face falling into my hands.

Cassandra pulls out the chair to my left and sits down, moving her hand to rest on my thigh.

"What happened now?" She sighs.

Cassandra has dealt with the worst of the worst here, so she knows exactly how I'm feeling right now. Working at a bar in Los Angeles is obviously going to have its downsides, but I swear to god I attract crazy, because I always get the worst customers.

"This old pervert at the bar grabbed my ass, and when I told him to fuck off, Randy yelled at me. Not the freak who, quite literally, sexually assaulted me." I feel my eyes brimming with tears, my cheeks hot with anger.

Randy is our manager. He exudes "white male privilege" energy. If something doesn't affect him directly, he couldn't give a fuck less.

"Jesus Christ are serious?" Cassandra's jaw drops, her sculpted brows furrowing. "Have you started looking for a new job? I know there are a few places in town looking for bartenders right now."

I sniff and wipe under my eyes with my ring fingers, trying not to smear the mascara I threw on before I left for work.

"No, I haven't. I don't want to work at another bar though," I groan, pushing my bottom lip into a pout. "I want to do something new and fun."

Cassandra chuckles, pushing her long blonde hair out of her face.

"Like what?" She asks.

"I don't know..." I pick at the chipped black nail polish on my small fingers. "Maybe something in Hollywood? Working around famous people could be cool."

Cassandra laughs again and shakes her head. She looks around the small, grey break room, seemingly in thought.

"What about-"

"Katie!" Randy bursts through the door, interrupting Cassandra mid-sentence. His dark green work shirt is two sizes too small, and stained with god knows what. The printing of the bar's name, Genevieve's, is faded to where you can barely tell what it says. His thinning, brown-grey hair is greasy and going in all directions, almost like he hasn't washed it in weeks. "What the hell are you doing back here?! Did you forget that you have customers you're supposed to be making drinks for?"

I feel my cheeks get hot again. "I needed a second, Randy. You know, after that creep grabbed my ass," I defend, balling my hands into fists from the anger coursing through me.

Cassandra sits there, silent and wide-eyed, hand still resting on my thigh.

"I don't give a shit. Get back to work," he spits out, pointing his thumb behind him towards the door. "You too Cassandra, your break was over ten minutes ago."

I quickly stand to my feet and point my index finger at the vile man in front of me, making both him and Cassandra flinch.

"You know what Randy? Fuck you!" I shout.

His face drops, almost turning white due to shock. "Excuse me? What did you just say to me?" He says quietly.

I can hear the surprise in his voice. I'm surprised too. I'm not usually one to stand up for myself.

"You heard me. I quit!" I exclaim, reaching behind me to untie the small black apron around my waist. Once it's undone, I rip it from my body and throw it towards Randy, him catching it right before it hits him in the face.

"You can't be serious," he almost laughs. He looks down at Cassandra, who is still sitting next to me, silent and with her right hand covering her mouth, and then back at me. "You can't just walk out in the middle of your shift."

"Sure I can, because I am." I throw my hands up in defense. "You're a scumbag, and I'm not going to sit here and let you treat me like garbage anymore. I'm done."

I turn around and walk towards the lockers in the corner of the break room, putting in the combination and throwing open the small square door. I quickly grab my bag and my favorite black denim jacket, and slam the locker door closed again.

When I turn back around to face Cassandra and Randy, both are still staring at me with wide eyes and shocked expressions. I walk up to Cassandra and give her a big hug, burying my face in her hair and taking in her scent. She always smells like cinnamon; it's comforting, especially in a situation like this.

"I love you, kid. Call me when you get off, okay?" I say, pulling back to look at her, my hands gripping her shoulders.

"Okay," she whispers, nodding her head slowly.

I pull away from her and look at Randy one last time, giving him the fakest smile I can muster and throwing my middle finger up in his direction.

After my final gesture, I push past him to leave the break room, stepping out into the loud bar area. The creepy guy that assaulted me is nowhere to be seen, thank god. As I move through the crowd of people, I feel my anxiety rising in my chest.

Once I finally make it out of the restaurant, I turn around and take in the giant sign above the glass windows. It was dark green, the same color as Randy's shirt, as well as mine and Cassandra's. 'Genevieve's' was painted in gold, illuminated by small lights placed around the frame.

The restaurant itself is actually really cute, and the food and drinks are good. It's a shame that they have a man like Randy running the place.

I quickly turn back around and begin speed-walking down the street in the direction of my apartment that's just a few blocks away. I can feel that my anxiety that started in the restaurant is turning into a full-blown panic attack.

"Oh god..." I whisper to no one, my throat feeling like it's closing in on itself. "What did I just do?"