Every rose has it's thorns

Jesus, she couldn’t go anywhere without being swarmed by cameras. She really needed to hire a body guard or something. After she escaped the hoard of paparazzi, she slipped inside a small bar, hoping to avoid anybody that might recognize her. Satisfied when nobody pointed in her direction after stepping inside, she sat down at the bar with a small sigh. Calling the bar tender over, she spoke up. 

Seth leaned on the bar, ignoring the hustle and bustle around them. 

"I’m Seth. When do ya get off, Sam?"

She scanned the room now for a candle finding one sitting next to a man who laid across the table passed out. With a snap of her finger she had made the flame grow sinnging the hair of the drunks fingers. 

He had instantly sat grabbing his fingers as he strugled to make an audible word.

He leaned closer to her over the smooth top of the surface between them.

"Any idea how much it’s gonna cost me ta get yer name ta go with it?"

Grabbing a beer for herself she finally returned to the counter, popping the cap off with a metal opener. "I'm Sam," she chuckled before taking a sip from the beer.

He waited for her to return to the bar to continue, but before he could say anything else she voiced another question.

He almost felt bad about throwing things about in Diedrich’s apartment in a fit. The assassin was still too caught up on being angry with him from a problem long before to do so, however.

Returning the paper to the drawer she spun around grabbing a glass from the cabinets before retriving a large bottle of Koelschip. She wasn't going to give him the strongest drink, he looked like a light weight if she knew one.

Puring the drink into the small cub, she had tossed in a round ice cube before handing it to the man. "Koelchip," she said setting it down infront of him.

Two hours, two hours left of hell. Onegirl had gone home sick, one of the chefs had burned his hand while cooking and was forced to go home. A new girl was working behind the counter and she seemed to be confused as to how to function when a crowd of men were flirting with her. 

"Bastardo!deje a trabajar, o te voy a patear a la calle!" she shouted, waving a metal pan in the air.

"Ah cállate!" a man had shouted in return.  Her anger had always gotten the best of her at work, and she wasn’t about to let a gy tell her what to do.

"Pinche cabron!" Her fist balled, she took a swing at the others jaw, knocking him down on his back. "Nunca se te permite entrar aquí de nuevo, vaya así?" Pulling him by the collar she had left him near the back, and throwing him into the dumbster. 

That is, until Sam reentered the bar. She definitely fell into the exceptional category. Tall, beautiful and unless he was severely mistaken someone like him.

The half demon wandered across the busy bar floor, dodging several sports fans as they made their way across haphazardly. He waited to speak until he was sure he was close enough for her to hear him.

"I was wonderin’ if ya have a moment ta spare fer me ta hit on ya?"

"Fire away," she laughed. "Doesn't mean I'll be listening the entire time though." Slidding a beer down the counter, Sam was a little worried about the half demon sitting at her bar. She knew then, she was one, and she didn't seem to get along with them to wel. If he stayed put though, she'd be fine.

Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered to continue to work there, but he usually found a reason to stay. Some poor soul willing to share their sorrows on a silent listener, just the laughing and merry making of specific groups who tramped through every certain number of days. Occasionally, the German just enjoyed knowing that life continued regardless of when he felt as though he were at a stand still.

Sam was a new face here, and one that did not go unnoticed by Diedrich. She quietly leaned over on the cold counter and he moved along the bar to stand in front of her.

"Hi," she began leaning back on the counter again. "Can I get a Franziskaner?" She reatched into her pocket pulling out a few dollars and setting it down on the counter.

He was, however, emotionally beat currently. He had never been particularly good at facing things that had seriously upset him in the past.

Amadeus sat down heavily at the bar, mumbling namaste weakly in return to her greeting.

Ignoring him for a moment, the demon had moved around the counter to one of the long tables. Someone was gonna want to play with Shots tonight. The metal pan clanking against the wood, it was quickly set before she returned to behind the counter.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked tossing the metal pan below the counter.