(Bartender au wow)
Ship request: battzmeow
The bustling noises of the bar made the atmosphere feel lively. Everyone was having a good talk and their laughs rang through the room. Lampert’s fingers ran through the inside of a wine glass, cleaning it with a cloth after a slight rinse. He was doing so as he observed everyone in the room. The suit he had to wear was really…compressing, making it hard to breathe for Lampert. He heaved a sigh. Can’t believe he had to work in this wreck of a place to sustain his income. His shift was surely long as well and he couldn’t wait for it to end. Lampert placed the wine glass back down and started to clean his area. The counter was the first priority to get cleaned. It held too many germs for his liking. Lampert wetted the cloth and started to thoroughly wipe it continuously. Lampert scanned the room once again. There was so much trash even though the bar he was working at was supposed to be ‘fancy’. A cultured and well mannered one. Who was he kidding. There was no such thing as a clean bar. This place is supposed to serve people who have ill intentions or are related to them. Why else would they come to a bar? To drink for fun? If they really were ‘clean’, they wouldn’t even be here in the first place. Or want to drink. Either way, Lampert was concerned about the cleanliness of the place…
Infected entered the place, eyes peering into it. Although this was a high class bar, he sure didn’t look like it. WIth his usual bright pink shirt and tired eyes, the complex wasn’t high class at all. He looked like a scene kid with his attire. He probably is, but that’s not the point. Infected stood out from the crowd. Fortunately for him, no one turned to look at him. Or even bothered. High class people scare Infected.
Infected strode over to the counter. His gaze immediately landed on Lampert. “He looked sleep deprived” was Infected’s first thoughts. Infected was hesitating to approach Lampert as he looked like he didn’t want any company. Plus, he was busy cleaning the counter. The both of them used to be friends, but it’s been years, so he doesn’t know if Lampert still remembers him. Infected took a step forward. And another step.
Lampert eventually stopped wiping the counter because he thought that it was enough for now. He turned around to put back the cloth. This was going to be a long night…
“Hello.” A voice muttered behind him. Lampert turned back around, to see Infected. Lampert looked him up and down. He doesn’t seem like he was at the right place. Lampert went towards him.
“How may I help you?” Lampert asked as he held eye contact with Infected. Infected raised his hand slightly.
“Can I have a margarita?”
“A basic drink. Sure.” Lampert stated, causing Infected to feel a bit irritated. How could he just diss his favourite cocktail? Well, the only cocktail he knew to be exact. Infected scoffed and crossed his arms. Lampert started to get to work. He took silver tequila from the shelf…
Infected rested his head on his hand and he observed Lampert making the drink. He sure looked…cute. In a way. Not sexually, at all! Infected glanced to the side to think about life for a bit. Why was he here in the first place? To answer his question, well, his father was acting up recently. Infected really came here to have some fun. His senses lead him here too. He was feeling sick recently too. Even though he shouldn’t be here, he just wanted to escape from his father. Gosh, he didn’t know what would happen to him if he didn’t go out. Besides, he wanted to know what’s so good about alcohol that his father would want to risk his health and mental stability for it.
“Here you go, good sir.” Lampert said as he handed the drink over to Infected. It was his first time trying this.
“Here goes nothing…” Infected thought to himself. He engulfed the whole thing. He couldn’t tell what it was supposed to taste like. Sweet? Sour? Salty? Maybe it was a mix of the three of them.
