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“Oh no, I wasn’t trying to—” Cameron gave up on the explanation midway, “Can I at least have a glass?” At least that way he could pretend he wasn’t acting like an alcoholic. “What gave me away?” he asked. 

“Suit yourself man,” Wes responded, fingers curving around a nearby glass before he popped open the bottle and with ease, poured the other male a glass of the whiskey. “You came here asking for whiskey firstly, the majority of this place drinks cocktails and jello shots; On the rarest occasion, vodka or wine.” He voiced within his actions, shortly sliding the glass over to him before altering himself in a lean against the bar. “Secondly, you look as though you’ve just rolled out of bed, and finished off a long day of work or you got in a bad fight with your partner who after three years has decided to give you the boot. Been there, done that. ---- So, which one is it?”

The Fletcher Siblings

“Excuse me?” Sarah raised her brow. He hit a nerve without knowing it. “It’s not like drama at all. It’s comedy actually.” She sighed deeply. “That’s an interesting story but it has nothing to do with improv. Improv is more like listening to your partner and react under given circumstances. And like I said, it’s comedy related.”

His vision switched from left to right, before retreating back to the girl in front of him with an arched brow. “Did I not say it loud enough?” Wes questioned, accompanied by a light scoff. “Listen, if you’re a comedian like you say you are then you’ll find the humour in what I said instead of being so touchy. You comedian’s tell jokes to people expense daily. ----- Then again, you only teach... right?” 

Cameron stuck around by the bar, sipping on the little that was left of his whiskey sour. There was only so much he could do at the restaurant settling accounts and calling suppliers. He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts for a minute. Being somewhere he knew absolutely nobody was the best option for him. “On the house? What if I asked for your most expensive liquor?”

“--- At this rate man, I don’t give a shit.” Wes affirmed, a sluggish shrug of his broad shoulders accompanying his words. “Take the whole bottle. I’m sure if my brother quits splurging out on strippers and lap dances for a week then he’d have enough to restock this place.” With a scoff, the male reached for a bottle of whiskey before setting it firmly down in front of the other male. “You want this? Take it. You look as though you need it.”

Elise was seated by the bar checking her messages while she waited for the bartender to come around. From the looks of the currently packed room, she realized it was going to be a bit longer before someone came around to her. A couple of minutes passed before she heard a voice, causing her to glance up. Raising her eyebrow slightly at the bartender’s words, “Not that I’m complaining, but aren’t you going to get in trouble? Unless this is your bar? But thank you. I’ll take a tequila sunrise.” She replied with with a friendly smile, figured she could leave him a generous tip. 

“It’s my brother’s club, and he’s out of town for a few days --- so I guess for now it’s mine, even though I’m here workin’ my ass off more than him anyway.” Wes voiced, bitterness laced in his hoarse voice briefly before he pivoted himself round to make a grab for the nearby tequila. “You don’t have to worry about leaving a tip. Just take it as a belated Christmas present.” His gaze diverted down as he prepared the drink briskly, zoning out the faint commands from the other customers, the loud music coming within his aid. “So, what brings you here tonight? Where’s your girlfriends at?”

“Rough night?” Max asked as he settled down onto the bar stool. He was just coming from a busy shift down at the restaurant himself, and he had hoped the bar wouldn’t be so crowded so he could have a chance to unwind. “Just the usual, a Blue Moon,” he replied, glancing at the patrons around him. “I’ll be sure to tip you nicely at least, looks like you need it from all the hustle and bustle. Something big going on tonight or what, anyway? It’s usually a little calmer by the time I roll in,” he commented.

“I thought that this place would of died down after New Years, and people would of traded this place in for the gym. God, I was wrong.” The male scoffed, his gaze drifting over the figures who were lingering near the bar with orders being shouted out over the loud music in hopes of engaging one of the bartenders. Wes took full advantage of the time Max was consuming that kept him away from the other customers, grabbing a Blue Moon for both himself and his ‘customer’. “I think they’re just benefiting off my brother not being in town, it’s happy hour; all day, everyday, every hour. But thanks to rules I enforced, I ended up breaking up at least five fights in the last twenty four hours.”

“I was just going to ask if there’s a public bathroom here. You look way too busy to have to take on another customer.”

“It’s a club doll, I wouldn’t advise you use the toilets here, but we do have them. Passed the dance floor and on your left, give me ten and I have my break --- I can give you keys to the bathroom in the VIP lounge. Do you think you can hold it in till then?”

Mia laughed at herself after he showed her his name badge, because of course she missed something like that. Alcohol did tend to make her a bit absentminded. “Fifth warning, what, I thought they stopped after three?” she asked, amused, turning to lean against the bar he was now standing behind. “Jack and ginger, more jack than ginger, please.”

“Perks of your brother being your boss, I suppose, and he knows if I don’t work this job then I’ll be out there trying to do something I shouldn’t,” Wes voiced, keeping his gaze locked on hers as he reached for a glass and set out to prepare the girl’s drink. “Coming right up. Any reason why you’re planning on getting so legless? Valid enough reason and I’ll let you have another on the house, ex boyfriend drama doesn’t count.”

“You tryin’ to pick me up, Fletch?” Callum teased, voice raised over the loud ambiance of the bar. “I’ll just have whatever you’ve got on draft.” 

“Believe me, if I wanted to pick you up then I would of brought out my best lines but unfortunately buddy, you’re not my type. I like brunettes.” Wes jested, reaching for a glass located nearby and pouring Callum a pint. “--- I hope you’re a fan of cider then. Blondie over there just ordered herself and her girlfriend’s a round. You know, usually when I tell people it’s on the house - they take advantage of it and ask for the most expensive drink.”

There was something magical about being a woman with long blonde hair and expensive red lipstick. Alice wasn’t a woman in the entirety of what she considered herself to be, but to these people, that did not matter. What they saw was enough for them — and in this case, being enough meant that the simplest of smiles could get the crowd to part. And, for whatever reason, it meant getting drinks on the house. A playful smile graphed Alice’s lips as the words greeted her. “If I get the most expensive drink that you have,” she began, “will I be pushing it too far, or doing the offer justice?”

It was times like tonight that the male still wished he was in the job he worked toward since his early adolescence, but he wouldn’t swap the nightlife out for a career out on the streets begging for loose change. It wasn’t all bad working busy shifts at the club whilst his brother was out of town; mostly because there was no one there to tell him what to do and what not to do. He decided to take advantage of this as he acknowledged the approaching blonde, a slight half-smirk quirking at the corner of his lips. “I’m sure I could pull a few strings.” Wes responded, arms folding as he adjusted himself in a lean against the bar. “What can I get you, doll?”

“On the house, you say?” Tyler asked, actually considering maybe that the last drink she was having was not exactly her last just yet. Her index finger circled the rim of her empty glass. She looked up at the man, cocking her brow upward. “Would it be really too much to ask for your most expensive glass of wine? I’ve always wondered what being rich tastes like.”

“On the house,” Wes recited in affirmation, at this rate he couldn’t care less about the money he was racking in within the absence of his brother. Unlike him, the younger male had became less materialistic as time progressed, the people who he met out in the real working world opening his eyes for good. “Most expensive glass of wine?” He cocked up a brow before pivoting himself round to scan over the selection of wines, before he made a swift grab for one of the bottles. “Sassicaia?”

“Not that I’m complaining, but are you allowed to just….do that?” Addie asked, tilting her head to the side and looking up at the bartender. “Just, a beer. Whatever is on draft,” she answered, giving a small wave of her hand, leaning forward and propping her elbows on the bar. “Stressful night?” 

“My brother owns the place, and I don’t see him around to boss me about. He’s visiting our college friends.” Wes affirmed, beckoning with a light signal of his head toward the nearby highlighted sign reading ‘happy hour, everyday, every hour.’ His gaze retreated back to their’s as he reached for a glass to see to the girl’s order, pouring her a beer with ease. “Who do you think enforced those rules?” He eventually spoke up, slipping her drink along the glossy bar surface, and over to her. “--- My own fault.”

       “You are not hitting on me, are you? I hope not.” Jade scoffed. “Give me Vodka rocks.”

“Right because every guy in here wants to bone you, even the one working behind the bar.” Wes spoke up, his voice laced with light sarcasm before he greeted gaze with him briefly. He probably wasn’t wrong about his words, however, Boston girls to him were off limits. “Vodka? Rough night?”