𝕛𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕖 𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕖

Full Name: James Brodie MacLerie Nickname: Jamie aka Jamie Clarke Age/Date of Birth: 25 / April 21, 1995 Gender: Female Occupation: Bartender / Contemporary Dancer Place of Birth: Portree, Island of Skye, UK Zodiac: Taurus Personality: ENFJ The Protagonist Temperament: Sanguine[X] Hogwarts House: Slytherine [X]

Faceclaim: Thomas Doherty Trigger Warnings: N/A

James shook his head and looked over at the band he had just played with, unable to stop himself from laughing as they were flipped off. It was a band he often played with, their drummer beyond unreliable, so he he used to their teasing and being flipped off constantly from them. “I was about to say- you need to get up there and play something. I would suggest starting a band but with as much as you work, that probably isn’t feasible.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders, he had never heard Jamie play anything but he had a feeling that the guy was a monster when he played. James paused long enough to take another sip from his beer, just basking in the feeling that always came with playing a great gig. “I have no idea how you do it- Working all the time. Sometimes I wish I had that problem.” He laughed, shrugging at how something mundane and tiresome as working all the time was something he secretly wished for. “Days off, you know, to lay in bed all day, contemplate the meaning of life, eat too much ice cream.” James explained with a playful grin resting on his lips. “But seriously, hopefully you’ll have a day off soon. You beyond deserve it.” 

Jamie had played at the bar before, once, when some band’s singer had failed to show up. Bartending as actually more profitable for him at the bar and the owner had been very clear for him to stick to the drinks which, he respected. “I’ll be as unreliable as them lads you cover fur, we both know it but, hey, next time!” He was now serving a round of Guinness, waiting before topping the pint, one hand on the handle and the other on the glass as he spoke. “It’s a good problem tae have. I dunnae dae it because I fucking love my job but I dae have some fucking bills tae pay... I’ll lay in bed when I make it. That’s the dream, int it?” The truth was, Jamie didn’t like to be too idle. He definitely didn’t like to sit around and contemplate about life. He tried to keep himself as busy as possible, focused, because the alternative was to look back at what he’s left behind, look around and see he was completely alone. Leaving to go serve the pints he had just poured, he returned back to the drummer after a moment. “Whit about ye? Whit dae ye dae when you’re not here covering up for some wanker who couldn’t make the gig?”

Indi raised their glass against Jamie’s with a cheerful laugh. Then they took a dainty sip and looked the bartender up and down, as if they hadn’t already checked him out several times over. Indigo was not one to hide their feelings or intentions though, life was too short for all of that. “Jamie. It’s wonderful to meet you Jamie. Where are you from? Your accent is beautiful,” they added as they cocked their head to the side, taking him in.

“Where I’m from? Everywhere. Anywhere.” Jamie was used to having people ask him that question. One would think their accent would just vanish after being away from home for so long but he was sure, in his case, it was the opposite. “Where dae ye want me to be from? Try me... I’m bloody good with accents!” The bartender teased, the last part spoke in the poshest Queen’s English he could muster, quickly shifting to seamless standard American accent. “Maybe I’m just pulling off the accent for the tips. And getting the attention of cute guys like you. Is it working?”

“It was a, ‘If you still feel that way in fifteen or twenty years, come find me.’“ She shook her head in an amused smile. “By then, I highly doubt they’ll remember or even go through the effort.”

“Well, if that’s the case, next time I come across one of them, I’ll send them your way so you can help them with that problem, shall I?” Stella teased, her laughter fading as Jamie disappeared to help another patron at the other end of the bar. Taking a sip of her freshly poured drink while she waited for him to return, Stella looked around the bar. It seemed less busy than it had the night before, then she realized just how sad it was that that was something she could notice. Clearly she’d been visiting the bar too often. But, with working as many hours as she did and not having that many friends, what else was she supposed to do with her free time? Where else was she supposed to go? At least at the bar, she knew Jamie was going to be there, so she’d at least have someone to talk to. “Oh, I know you will.” Her voice was just as low as Jamie’s had been, leaning in as she spoke. Stella couldn’t remember how it had started, but their arrangement was beneficial on both sides. Leaning back a little when Jamie turned to put the bottle back on the shelf, she let out a slight snort at the mention of a Christmas production. “Christmas shit? Already? Jesus. How’d it go though? Think you’re in with a shot?” She asked before taking another sip of her drink. “The only way you’d get a discount is if you went south of the border, and I really wouldn’t recommend that. If you want the job done right, you’ve gotta pay the price, I’m sorry, dude. But, I don’t think a saggy ass is something you’re ever gonna have to worry about.”

“I’ll split the tips with ye ... I’m not below selling meself if that’s whit it comes down tae! Some good honest dosh.” Jamie was joking, of course, but he was also not entirely opposed to it if his circumstances drove him to that point. He had hit low enough plenty of times throughout the years since he ran away from home not to discard any means of sustaining himself financially. “Have ye seen that show, Hollywood? Straight line to fame, these lads, with the auld rich ladies... maybe that’s whit I’ve been missin’ all along! Dinnae worry. I willnae forget ye when I’m rich and famous!” The bartender sent the brunette a wink from across the bar as he resumed his position there. The place wasn’t very busy, just a few of the regulars sitting around making conversation amongst themselves and watching some American sports game on the TV. Jamie didn’t really pay too much attention to those. Why would he, anyway, when his eyes had something much more interesting to look at right in front of him now. Stella’s company had become expected almost on the daily. The days she didn’t stop by, he’d text here to check if she was alive. It just happened like that in the handful of weeks they had both found themselves in the city. He raised his brows suggestively as they both leaned in, knowing at that very moment the likelihood of her staying through the end of his shift were now high and he wasn’t going to complain about that. Not one bit. “Casting needs to get done early, then readings, then rehearsals, then the bloody show... which will probably open right around Thanksgiving?” Jamie shrugged. “Ah dinnae ken... have ye seen the movie Elf? It’s that show. Ye think I can pull off portraying Buddy the Elf? Picture me wearing bright yellow tights, int it sexy?” Laughing, Jamie pulled the bottle of scotch from behind him and refilled her glass, pouring himself a shot and joining her with a drink this second round. “Aye, I’m a lucky lad then. Worst nightmare, there, having tae deal with a saggy arse. I cannot afford your services. I’d have to cross the border, but it wouldn’t be the first time I dae so I have that advantage, right? On that note, ye want something from the kitchen before it closes?”

As the end of the set came for the band he was covering with, James made his way to the bar. Usually he didn’t drink much, especially when he was out by himself but one beer wouldn’t hurt. A grin made its way onto his face though as he saw Jamie, someone he had gotten to know from playing at the same bar so often. They had easily gotten along and he was someone that James was able to talk music with, which was always a plus. Not to mention the other didn’t seem to mind his memory issues and like always, knew just what drink James would go to when he himself couldn’t remember sometimes.

“Thanks, youre seriously the best.” James laughed as he reached for the pint, taking a sip of it. “Ah, I would go for a real beer but this is all I can handle these days. No point in getting drunk and being more confused than what I already am.” James gave a shrug of his shoulders, elbows resting on the edge of the bar some. “That was my last set for the night. Remind me to never cover for two bands back to back again.” He laughed again, taking another sip. “For a second, I almost messed up and played a song from the other band. Which you know, wouldn’t have been good at all.” He grinned over at Jamie. adjusting himself on the bar stool some. “But how are you doing?” 

“Aye, I know! Cheers, mate! Ye deserve it!” The bartender shrugged the musician’s thanks away, a bar towel draped over his shoulder as he gripped onto the counter between them, tilting his chin in the direction of the stage. “Ye better keep an eye on them lads, they’re getting away with yer tips!” The band wasn’t, both James and Jamie knew that much, but he still teased mostly to get at one of the older members of the band who had overheard him and flipped him off. Jamie just laughed. “Fuck, I don’t know how ye dae it. If I dae end up convincing Red aboot letting me play a set here someday, I’ll bloody hire you, mate. You’re a beast. Ye know, jist here... second shift today between the restaurant and the bar. Keeps me busy which is all I can ask for right noo. Day off, the fuck are those?”

SLICE OF HOME | JAMEN

jamiexclarke​:

He rolled his eyes at Jamie, but he couldn’t help but smile. “I’m still fucking offended you didn’t come find me first. Got yourself a job already but no thanks for the man who brought you,” he pointed, though happy when he was handed a drink without even asking what. It wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for him to order a beer, or something else, but he mostly stuck with whine and whiskey. Taking a sip, he was half expecting Jamie to lean over and kiss him with as far as he seemed to move, but he just smirked at the comment instead. “Cavaliere’s age like wine. We only get better with age, mi amore.”

“I can make it up tae ye...” The bartender grinned, biting onto his lower lip for a moment as he looked the man in the eyes, unyielding his gaze. “But I’m on the clock and I can’t go making everyone jealous noo... I need the tips. My shift is over in a bit, though, if ye want to stick around...” Jamie teased, his body still leaning over the counter so they remained fairly close despite the glasses between them. Jamie really didn’t know Roman was in Chicago before his move but he did know some time later and had meant to find him. The thing is, he knew Roman would find him first and he was kinda waiting for it which is why he wasn’t entirely surprise when the man showed up at the bar. “I’m not much of a wine lad meself but, you know, I can make exceptions for the right reasons. What are ye doing here? In Chiago, I mean. To what dae I owe the pleasure?”

Indigo’s smile grew when they realized they were recognizable too. With a nod, they finished the drink currently in front of them and then turned a little better in their seat so they were facing Jamie more head-on. “They have work in the morning, or kids or wives to get home to,” they explained, waving a hand in the air to symbolize brushing off the issue. “They didn’t leave me behind! I wanted to stay and see who I could start a conversation with. Also I don’t like to be too early for work. I’ve still got some time before I need to leave so I thought why not chat up the bartender with the incredible features and cute butt?” They smiled and reached forward to brush their thumb along Jamie’s jawline. Then their hand fell and they just stared, smiling. “My drinks were lovely all afternoon, thank you. Did you have a name, handsome?”

“Aye, here’s tae them, then, and what they’re missing oot on!” Jamie held his pint close to the other’s glass one served. He was used to having patrons flirt on him just as he did on them. It usually worked in his favor. It kept clients coming back for more and usually it meant good tips, too. After hours, well, he just took it as an opportunity to make new friends. After all, he was new in town. Some fun couldn’t hurt. He put his pint glass down when the other traced his jawline, leaning in provocatively as he offered his name close to their ear. “Jamie’s the name.” Leaning back, he resumed drinking his beer after winking in their direction. 

Despite the fact that she’d lived in Chicago before, when she’d come back to the city after 14 years, she’d lost her bearings around the place. When she met Jamie, they were as lost as each other, and often found comfort in the fact that they were both trying to figure out their way around. She’d walked into that bar by complete accident one day, but she’d walked out with at least one person she could consider a good friend. Now her trips to the bar came after nearly every shift, only missing a day if she was really dead on her feet. Walking in, she spotted Jamie right away, and she couldn’t help but laugh as she watched him get her a glass, setting it down in front of her usual spot. Taking her seat, she thought for a moment. “It’s definitely a Whiskey kind of day today.” She said with a nod. “I don’t know what it is about old rich ladies, but they’re all a fucking nightmare. I spent an hour explaining to this one woman why I couldn’t give her 1000cc implants.” Stella shook her head, leaning her elbows against the top of the bar, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Better make that two Whiskies, actually. If I don’t leave her with a nice buzz, then I’m gonna be really fucking disappointed.” Letting out a short sigh, she sat up straight again. “But, anyway, how was your day?”

The moment Stella made her pick, Jamie started free pouring some Balvenie. “Auld rich ladies are probably having a stick up their arse because they’re probably having a bloody hard time getting laid. An easy fix, if ye ask me but, whit can ye dae!” The bartender shrugged, a grin plastered on his face. He held a finger up when he was called from the other end of the bar, closing someone’s tab before coming back to Stella, casually leaning against the counter. “I’m serving you the good shit... you’ll get a nice buzz but ye willnae have a fucking bad headache in the mornin. Dinnae worry.” Lowering his voice enough just for her to hear him out, Jamie smirked. “I live right upstairs. I’ll take good care of ye.” With a wink, he turned around to shelf the bottle behind me. “I had an audition this mornin for a bloody Christmas production but, hey. Beggars can’t be choosers, right?” Jamie wasn’t very excited about the role but he needed to bag a few more roles to put down on his resumé, as many as he could in town. It was good networking. He needed that. Bartending tipped well but he didn’t just leave everyone and everything behind to not make something out of himself. He had made himself a promise, he wouldn’t go back home until he did, until he had something he could show his father and prove him wrong. No one needed to know that side of his story and he kept it very much to himself, but he was determined. His drive was rooted deeply. “So, if I were to get implants... I assume I’d get a discount, right?” He asked jokingly. “I cannot have a saggy bum!”

Stella had been one of Jamie’s first customers at the bar in Chicago and a regular. They were both just as lost when it came to the city which was a good excuse to catch up every so often both at the bar and at his apartment upstairs. Sometimes they didn’t really get to chat much but either was yet to complain. When he saw her walk in at around the usual time she came to the pub after work, the bartender pulled a glass from behind the counter and wet it right in front of her go-to stool by the bar. “Whit kind of day was it today? Wine or Whiskey?”

“If you are, so am I,” Florian mumbed. He usually stood in the way back of the class and watched until there was room for him to jump in. Usually after the class was over, but that was perfectly fine with him. The last thing Florian wanted was to be in the middle of a step and start ticing in front of everybody there. Most people would notice, and even more of them would comment, he already knew that. The dance world was full of people just looking to tear you down. “Just about the worst luck I’ve ever had,” he mumbled, “I stick around because even if I couldn’t dance professionally, I can’t give it up either. I’ve also gotten better about not…freaking out since I was first diagnosed, but it was too late to come back by then.” Florian rolled his eyes as they approached the building. He stepped forward to open the door for him. “It’s after all the classes are done and I have no teacher, so I’m not sure how talented I am. I also help out with painting props and stuff, so I’m useful to them, they let me stick around.”

“Cheers, mate.” Jamie walked through the front door of the studio, pulling out his keychain to check in at the front desk. They were both late for class but if they both walked in together it wouldn’t be too bad. It wouldn’t be just one of them on the spot, after all. They could pull it off. “Yeah, ye dinnae say! But hey, yer here still, right? That says a lot about ye and yer talent. Or at least, yer determination and that’s all that matters, right?” With a nod, Jamie dropped his duffel bag outside the studio, a hand on the doorknob. “What ye mean ye have naw teacher?” They didn’t really have a lot of time to get into it, though, taking Florian’s answer without much more thought as they walked in. For the rest of the 45 minutes left of the class, they didn’t really talk again. They couldn’t. Jamie was focused now trying to make up for his tardiness and though he started at the end of the room, he slowly found his way to the front. He was drenched in sweat and panting but still smiling wide at the end of the class, chatting up with a couple of people when he saw Florian about to leave the room again. He excused himself from the conversation he had, going after the other. “Ye said ye have naw teacher. I’ll help ye. I’ll be yer teacher. I don’t need any dosh... money. I could use the practice and ye need a teacher. It’s a win-win, really. What ye say?”