pressure.
namjoon had the option to be a passive bartender, to simply serve drinks and nothing more, but he didn’t take. he, in fact, did the opposite-- which was partially why he was so good at his job, because he just cared too much to let that girl go home drunk with the man that was twenty years older than her. especially when she came here with friends, and they were nowhere to be seen.
there was always skeevy shit that could happen-- and regularly, did-- and namjoon just was not willing to look away. he couldn’t. he wasn’t like yoongi-- he just couldn’t do it.
thankfully, it’s a slow night tonight-- there aren’t many people, and there’s some song from before eden playing, that stirs nostalgia that namjoon would rather not dwell on, so he’s glad when someone pulls up to the bar. someone to keep him company, perhaps.
“what can i get you?” are the automatic words coming out of his mouth, as he straightens his back, no longer leaning against the bar and already leaning to grab for a clean glass. “we’re fresh out of vodka, so you’ll have to stick to good ol’ soju for tonight if that’s what you’re looking for, unfortunately.”
