an unkindness of ravens

dix-neuf

— dix-neuf ; nineteen —

HENRI SPENT THE REST of his birthday exploring the Edgar Allen campus and familiarising himself with its layout.

It was something he had been meaning to do before the school year began in a couple of weeks anyway, but he still felt a little detached from reality even though he had finally managed to escape the black shadows of Castle Evermore. Campus was pretty much a ghost town considering students wouldn't begin flying in until a few days later and the buildings were practically deserted, but Henri was grateful for that. He wasn't in the mood to deal with people today. He wandered between different facilities, science and history and modern languages, not really seeing any of it.

He lingered outside the art department, staring through the tall windows into the wide and spacious rooms. There were easels and canvases and brushes cluttering the room in a disarray of organised chaos, paintings and sketches hanging on the walls. Henri liked looking at them, trying to make sense of what the artist meant to convey but also what he saw in them. He didn't realise just how much he'd missed drawing until he saw those and itched for a pen between his fingers. That only brought up dark thoughts of his old sketchbook and his house, going up in flames, so he quickly skipped on past that building.

The downtown area was a little more populated, seeing as it was intended for the general public, but this was still a place catered towards the students of Edgar Allen. Most of the cafes and shops were open but pretty much empty, and flyers up in the windows advertising jobs reminded Henri of his absolute lack of money. His place with the Ravens provided him with basic necessities such as food, but having no finance wasn't exactly comforting. Even if it was for simple things such as a school bag or a pencil case, Henri wanted that independence he could fall back on.

It took a few attempts to find a place hiring that could work around his Exy and upcoming school schedule. It was in the area filled with bars and restaurants, the kind of place that was dead right now but would be filled with bodies and lights when evening came. Henri was wary about stepping inside the bar, aware he was even more underage than usual in America, but he had nothing to lose. The place was dimly lit and a little seedy, with splintered floorboards and peeling wallpaper. It was abandoned besides a cleaner sweeping in the corner and a young woman with countless piercings cleaning glasses behind the bar.

"Hi," Henri said, stopping in front of her. "The sign in your window says you're hiring?"

The woman looked him up and down. "You know anything about bartending?"

"Uh, no? But I'm a fast learner," Henri added, eyeing the array of bottles and glasses stacked up against the wall. "I already know all the different alcohols. Just teach me what to mix and the names of the drinks."

The woman didn't seem particularly interested in his lame offer until he said he could work late evenings from Friday to Sunday. Henri didn't know if he could, not if he wanted to sleep during the next year, but he was desperate for the money. This place was willing to pay more than the others he'd looked into as they didn't question the lie he gave that he was nineteen and he could always drop the job if he found something better. He was expecting to be called back for some kind of interview, but the woman who called herself Liza took his number and said he could take his training now, if he wanted. Henri knew the place was probably a little dodgy if it hired without any kind of background check but he didn't care.

Bartending was not as easy as Henri was expecting. He had to learn what each machine did, which nozzle sprayed what, what was in each bottle, where they were located, which glass to use for which drink and the right amount of mixers used for each cocktail. He even had to learn the lingo that indicated whether to keep drinks alcohol free, ice free, and anything else you could imagine. It was exhausting, being grilled on each thing he learnt by Liza, but Henri gladly took the work. It was the mind numbing distraction he needed from his own thoughts.