New OCs Stevie and Blake ✨
Stevie’s schedule was always the same. She worked nights at a small bar downtown, Dizzy’s Dive, and always had Sunday and Monday off. Her schedule was just the way she liked it, always the same and always the night shift. She can’t even remember the last time she was up before noon.
Until her boss called to tell her she’ll be filling in for new guy Jeff on Sundays for awhile, he apparently had an unforeseen disagreement with a set of stairs last night.
Cursing Jeff on her usual day off, she grumbled her way into the back door of the Dee (affectionately coined by the locals), relieving the day bartender to begrudgingly start her new shift. Who even is up at this hour she thought as she checked her phone which flashed back 2:25pm.
Donning her apron she trudged out behind the bar mentally preparing for the next six hours to quite possibly be the worst of her life, Sunday shifts were always dead. She felt a small flicker of relief upon seeing one occupied barstool. At least she wouldn’t be completely alone today.
The person had several empty shot glasses before them with what appeared to be a new one waiting between their fingers. They stared hunched over at the worn wood bar top, fingers gently rotating the very full shot as they zoned out unblinking. Stevie immediately noticed a rather cut jawline and stylish bomber jacket on their frame.
Feeling intrigued, Stevie nonchalantly slinked her way down the bar, plopping down on her elbows directly in front of the mysterious patron. They didn’t seem to register her presence, or they didn’t care.
“Rough day?” She asked them. They didn’t even flinch at the noise.
Softly humming in a sort of resigned agreement they said,
“You could say that.” The edge of their mouth ever so slightly turning up as they continued to nurse their shot. As if it was a little funny.
Stevie huffed a short laugh and thought to herself, ‘Oh, I can work with this.’
2087
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