@yhsejun
as the night slows to a close, haneul lets himself lean a bit against the bar to take a breath. it’s not difficult work, but at the end of his several hour shift, he finally feels like he’s able to allow some of his own thoughts into his mind. he’s been doing pretty well at remembering all of the drinks and how they are made, and it’s coming easier to him, now, that he had been there for several weeks. working with sejun is easy, too, and haneul is glad for the fact that they’re able to maneuver around each other smoothly in-between all of the orders, especially with how hectic it can get on the busier nights.
usually, he would think that he would be tired of alcohol after being around it all night, but it’s really just a testament to his will that he doesn’t down a couple of shots as he works. when his shift is over, he just wants to drink more, to calm himself down to relax more than anything else after such a long night.
his ears are still ringing a little from the music — he goes over everything he’s meant to finish, mentally, and calls it quits when the lights lower even further, only illuminating the bar to the exit. he reaches out for his jacket, his leather one that he usually wears everywhere, and slips it on, hand running through his hair just to set it in more disarray then it was previously.
staring down at his nails, he notices chipped polish, thinks about how he really needs to redo them. there’s something about a night at work that really destroys the nice, pristine coat of polish he had put on them earlier in the week. sighing a bit, he lights up the phone to check the time, the electronic glow sharp on the edges of his features. there’s no notifications — though he expected none. it’s a little past midnight.
sometimes he thinks about how during work what he had really missed was the sunset, and it makes him more sad than the loss of free time, even if he bolsters himself with the idea of gaining money from it. every time he misses the sun sink beneath the horizon, it feels like he has lost something. a memory, or a feeling, it causes him to ache.
he really needs a drink.
“sejun — where are you?” he calls out, not sure where he’d gotten off to. he fiddles with his phone in his hands, leaning against the bar and staring hard at a stray clean glass that hadn’t been stored away on the counter. he moves to put it away, humming quietly under his breath. “are you finished?” he calls out a moment later — he always tended to stay just to make sure that he could help with anything that was needed so everyone working could leave and go home. there were stars to see, after all.
