love lessons | charlie kelly x reader

16 - Ralphs

Y/n's fingers clasped onto her sunglasses as the door thumped closed behind her. she raised them from her eyes and the dim pubs light slightly elevated, but did not change the scene she saw before her. she blinked, as if to refresh the image.

"what the hell is going on here?"

Saturday night. their busy night- well, busy by Paddy's Pub standards- usually had a small crowd of the regular alcoholics and bored college students looking for the cheap thrills of a bad neighbourhood and even the even cheaper booze that accompanied. though now, as Y/n stood stuck to a floor unmarked with the usual dusty footprints of bar-goers, she marvelled at the sight; yeah, okay, Paddy's wasn't exactly a thriving establishment of any sorts, but there was always at least a few, be it not a few drunken old men. especially on a Saturday night.

Mac's head raised from it's temporary place against the cool countertop, eyelids struggling to remain unlidded. he'd clearly given up on serving drinks and instead partook in a few himself, as evident by the many shot glasses left abandoned between himself, Charlie and Dee. "...slow night-" he hiccuped, much to Dennis' sober amusement. "people don't...- they found somewhere else."

Y/n would've laughed had her desperately needed pay-check not been hanging in the balance. she made her way behind the bar with a stiff frown, positioning herself next to her drunken friend. "why've they only decided to go there now, then?"

"it's a new bar, Ra-" Dennis edged away from Dee as she threw back yet another shot of some sort of murky alcohol; it could have been toilet water and Y/n bet she wouldn't have noticed. he pulled a half drunk pint of beer after him and cleared his throat. "-Ralph's. it's new, modern, all that bullshit, with a dance floor and nightly DJ on top."

"a DJ? ...wait, is it a bar or a goddamn nightclub?"

"a mix- or, sorry, as they've so eloquently put it, a 'fusion'." Dennis mocked in what Y/n supposed to be a really terrible attempt at an English accent.

the woman groaned as horrific realisation hit. "they're not English..." she asked with obvious distain.

Dennis nodded gravely into his quickly draining drink. Charlie glanced up from the shot glass he'd been previously enamoured with, his own eyelids a carbon copy of Mac's. "aw man... nah, don't get me started on 'em..." he slurred almost indistinctly, eyes rolling to where Y/n sat across from him. "d'you... d'you know why- here, take this, you're like, way too sober right now...," he clumsily pushed an overflowing shot glass full of.. full of something in Y/n's general direction and continued on his scattered way. "d'you know why we have an Irish bar, and not an English bar..? hm?"

Y/n, with the realisation that he was looking for an answer quickly shook her head. she shuddered at the warmth the sharp liquid left in her throat; though it did feel rather nice.

"i'll tell ya why..." Charlie stumbled, wobbly hand raising to point at the somewhat intrigued woman. "because they're fucking English!"

"Charlie- Charlie, d'you even know why we hate the English?" Dee spoke slowly and carefully, as if carefully orchestrating each word that came from her mouth; Y/n could almost hear her brains gears grinding.

Charlie scoffed. "'course... course i do, Dee, m'not stupid." he spoke with confidence, though his aura told many an unspoken volume of uncertainty.

"okay, well, whatever about them; all i know, is that they're stealing our business." Y/n interrupted before things pursued in the rather hateful direction they'd been headed.

"so, you're saying we should do something about it, hm?" Dennis raised a curious eyebrow, meeting her own mischievous gaze. she grinned. "i didn't say that, but, i'm not opposed..."