One Shots

bartender | bryson tiller

You walked inside the club in your ripped jeans and Puma suedes. You made sure you were looking real good tonight because you had just found out your man was cheating on you, so you two broke up and now you're looking for a rebound.

You sat in one of the bar chairs and spun around once before ordering a small shot glass of Bacardi.

Almost immediately, guys began swarming you. You were always a guy magnet. Whether it was for your looks or your body shape, boys always swarmed you. You loved the attention, yes, but you got swarmed everywhere you went, almost as if you were famous or something.

You shoo'd them all off and downed your shot glass. You saw the bartender chuckle. He had a beautiful smile and was wearing a snapback even though you knew that wasn't apart of his uniform. "In all my years of working here, I've never seen that many niggas come over here so fast, and all at once. Wassup wit that?"

You shrugged and leaned your elbows on the counter, taking in his facial features. He was chocolate with black glasses and a full beard and mustache. He looked very handsome and toned.

"It happens everywhere and all the time, and don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to sound cocky but it gets overwhelming and I'm kinda over it, ya know?" You explained as he made you another drink, this time it was in a bigger glass.

He nodded and looked you up and down, licking his lips. "Well, you are beautiful. Looks and body wise. So I see why they do that. I'm glad I'll have the chance to look at you all night, if you choose to stay right here."

You giggled and rolled your eyes playfully. You hadn't had a full conversation with him but you could tell he was different.

"Yeah I just might decide to stay right here for the night. Just because, ya know?" You looked up at him. He was smiling. You messed with your braids and flipped them over your shoulder. You adjusted your black Polo shirt because your purse was pulling it down.

"Yeah I feel ya." He smiled then made someone else's drink. You turned and saw a guy beside you. He must've been trying to get his attention for a while because he looked agitated.

"This nigga. He the slowest person in this club." He shook his head then laughed. He must've thought that was cute and that it impressed you, but it didn't. It actually was a huge turn off and deal breaker when guys brought other guys down when they were trying to get with you. That just shows how insecure and self conscious they are.

"Not really. At least he's doing his job. Most niggas out here don't." You shrugged while the bartender cracked a small smile.

"He a bartender. Any nigga can do that shit. I bet you can do it too, shit." The guy said. You looked at him like he was stupid.

"Well, I haven't had a chance to dabble in the drink industry yet but I do have my masters in business and marketing from UCLA so I'm pretty sure I don't know how to do it. And I'm almost positive you don't know how to do it either, judging by the way you're presenting yourself." Your parents always taught you to not judge a book by its cover but he was pushing your limits. He was slouched down and had on baggy Trues with a wrinkled Fendi shirt and he had a red MCM purse. Not the backpack. The purse.

"Yeah, if you feel like it's so easy, why don't you do it? Make us a Manhattan please." The bartender took his apron off and handed it to the guy. The guy had a dumb look on his face. He shook his head before saying something under his breath. You couldn't comprehend much but you did hear 'stupid bitch'. Apparently the bartender did too because he threw your drink in his face.

"Fuck you do that fa bitch ass nigga?" The guy stood up and wiped his eyes.

"Bad move." You said with a chuckle. You're not supposed to rub alcohol out of your eyes. That's common sense. Rubbing will just spread it, you're supposed to leave them open and let the alcohol cry out.

"Shut up bitch!" He yelled. One of the dudes from earlier came and punched him in the jaw. You laughed as he walked away and left the guy on the floor.

"I guess that's a perk of having your own little gang of guys who like you." You shrugged. The bartender had a grin on his face while he was putting his apron back on.

"Shh." He put his index finger to your lips then made someone else a drink. You two talked and watched each other for the rest of the night, you kept flirting with each other as well even though guys kept coming up to you and a few girls went up to him.

You saw the club dying out. You tapped your black Apple watch and saw that it was almost 4am. You yawned almost instantly and looked at the man you'd been talking to all night.

"Boutta head out?" He asked while stretching. No one was there except you two and a couple of couples making out on the dance floor even though no music was playing.

"I can wait on you if you want." You shrugged. He smiled and cleaned his area rather quickly before taking his apron off again.

You grabbed your keys and phone off the counter and walked out with him.

"My night was very fun. Thanks for staying with me the whole time." He said once he got to what you assumed to be his car. It was a tan Nissan.

"I had a very... eventful night with you..." You trailed on, trying to get his name.

"Bryson. Bryson Tiller." He smirked and kissed your forehead. "See ya around beautiful."