HEAVY BASS MUSIC rang loud in aching ears as a thick amber liquid passed between thinly parted lips. A familiar warm and slow burn filled his broad chest, fingers tightening their grip on the cool sleek bar to stabilize wobbly knees. How many shots had passed between his lips in a smooth motion that night? “T-two..three..f-four..” he counted on his long thin fingers, his voice unsteady as he mumbled quietly to himself. Too many. It was strictly against the rules to drink any alcohol while on a shift at the amusement park, but much like many of the rules in Hudson’s life – it was unfollowed. Beyond that, deliberately disobeyed. But the customers were so intolerable, and the alcohol, well it wasn’t exactly locked up. Plus, there were so many bottles in stock, who would notice if a few shots worth were missing? If the owner cared so much about their liquor they wouldn’t have left the new guy to close down the place right? Right.
A familiar yet nerve racking ‘click’ sounded off in the distance, it was meant to notify employees working behind the bar that they had a customer approaching. For Hudson however, it was an alarm warning him that someone might catch him. His chest lurched a little at the unexpected visitor; his head was foggy as he hurriedly attempted to discard the miniature glass. He succeeded only in knocking it over, the remnants of the bitter alcohol pooling out onto the bar’s smooth surface. He just managed to grip the small shot glass, his hands large enough to conceal the glass in his fist. He turned his bank to the approaching customer in hopes they would not notice his inebriated state. “We’re closed..” He slurred, “Or..or about to be so you – you should probably just get outta here..”
Technically, Lyra was not supposed to be at a nightclub. She was twenty, which meant she was definitely under the legal age of drinking and entering clubs. Lucky for her, this club happened to be the one in her workplace, which meant that there was no problem with her being there. Not that it probably would have mattered, fake ids were enough to get you in to any bar or nightclub. If you asked Lyra, however, she would swear that she didn’t use it for drinking. She was here tonight, though, because she was worried about Hudson. There was just something that compelled her to want to help him, despite how much he grumbled about it. They hadn’t seen each other for a few days and he had gone radio silent. Granted, it could be just that he was busy, but she had been wrapping up some things at the office anyway so she had swung by.
His back was turned towards her as she approached, so she just assumed that he thought she was a customer. “Uh, bartender, pretty sure you missed a spot?” She teased, observing the spreading liquid on the bar “Might want to clean that up before it tips over.” Seating herself on a stool, she made sure she avoided the spilled alcohol and tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, H. It’s just me. Was wondering whether you wanted to grab a snack or something?” Okay, totally lame excuse, but it was the easiest one that she had.
