Vengeance

CHAPTER: 10 A BEATING DEAD HEART

So Hee's Perspective

Well, if I claimed not to be tired, even Pinocchio would shoot me a skeptical look. My breath was pulling a marathon without my consent, and I was waltzing through this mammoth crowd like a Social Butterfly on autopilot. My limbs were doing the cha-cha without my permission-apparently, they decided to embrace their inner rebels tonight. Orders stumbled out of my mouth like I was auditioning for the lead role in "Shakespeare: The Remix."

I used to think three years behind the bar would make me the reigning monarch of crowds, but nope! My en-ochlophobia must've taken a siesta or something. It was 1 in the morning (or night-honestly, who knows at this hour?), and the ocean of inebriated folks had finally receded, giving us poor employees a chance to inhale something other than cocktail fumes.

Considering we were smack dab in the city's beating heart on a Friday (well, technically yesterday), this crowd made my old workplace look like a knitting club.

Just as I was going to retire to the staff room to catch my breath and escape the sensory overload, Rose, the pocket-sized dynamo, approached me with a knowing twinkle in her eyes. "So Hee, darling, you've survived your initiation. How's it feels to dance with the wolves?"

I mustered a tired smile. "Wolves, huh? More like a chaotic symphony of drunken penguins."

Rose chuckled; her laughter infectious. "You'll get used to it, trust me. The first night is always a wild ride. By the end of the week, you'll be orchestrating this circus like a maestro."

A wave of relief washed over me. Maybe there was a glimmer of truth in Rose's words. "I sure hope so. Otherwise, I might need a crash course in penguin choreography."

As we made our way to the staff room, Rose filled the silence with tales of her own initiation, each story more outrageous than the last. It seemed like surviving the madness of the nightlife was a rite of passage, and Rose was the seasoned storyteller.

Entering the staff room, I found a corner of the worn-out couch to collapse on. The room buzzed with conversations and laughter, creating a comforting hum. I observed my newfound colleagues, each with their own quirks and stories, and wondered how I would fit into this eclectic mix.

Jimin, ever the smooth talker, approached with a welcoming smile. "Survived your first wave, So Hee? You're officially part of the circus now."

I nodded, the fatigue settling in. "Circus, carnival, whatever you call it. I'm just glad to have a moment of peace."

Jimin gestured toward the small kitchenette. "How about a drink? It's our tradition to unwind after the storm. You've earned it."

I hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether I had the energy for more socializing. But the camaraderie in the room was inviting, and I decided to join in. "Sure, why not? Surprise me."

Jimin flashed a mischievous grin. "Coming right up. Let's see what concoction I can whip together."

As I sipped the mysterious drink Jimin crafted, the atmosphere shifted from the chaos of the nightclub to the warmth of shared stories and laughter. Despite the initial challenges, I began to sense a camaraderie forming, an unspoken bond among those who navigated the nightly storm together.

In the midst of the lively banter, Rose leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "So Hee, welcome to the club within the club. The after-hours crew is a different breed, and you, my friend, are now part of this nocturnal family."

The weight of my earlier encounters and the surreal twists of fate began to fade, replaced by a sense of belonging. It seemed that even in the shadows of the nightlife, connections could bloom, and a motley crew of night owls could become something resembling a family.