Quinn's Bar & Restaurant [IC]

[SortOfBeautiful]

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v77/supergirl03/quinns.jpg

Quinn's Bar & Restaurant.
Not accepting characters at this time, unless PMed by SortofBeautiful. PM for invite, if you're interested.

OOC.​

Overlooking Elliott Bay in Seattle, Washington, Quinn's Restaurant was built in 1957 on the corner of Pike Street and Broadway. The owners, brothers, Frank and Mark Quinn, passed on the restaurant to Frank's son in 1979 after he graduated college. James Quinn had gone to college for Business, but it was always known when growing up that he would take after his father and uncle's restaurant downtown in Seattle. It wasn't until ten years later that he met his wife, Mary, who now also manages the restaurant.

Well-known around the city to the locals and the tourists, word soon got around about Quinn's famous "local flavor"; seafood caught fresh right in the cold waters of the Puget Sound, wild cocktails, and 14 beers on tap. Quinn's Restaurant is now a favorite for amazing food, casual dining, breath-taking views of the salty Sound and beaches, live music, and friendly, energetic staff.

Over the years, staff at Quinn's Restaurant has come and gone. But then again, the restaurant business has never really been the typical workplace for one to retire. Some employees there now originally applied just to find temporary work while they got their life together, or pay off student loans. While some truly enjoy the work, and don't have the resume or ambition to work anywhere else.

So, this story will follow that staff of Quinn's Restaurant.

They are students, musicians, struggling entrepreneurs, mothers, etc. And while each of them are different in size, personality, and age, the Restaurant is the one place they are all brought together, no matter what they have going on in their life. Every night, drama is promised, as well as tears, and stress. All it takes is for one broken glass, one rude customer, or one argument with the boss to send everything downhill. Like a domino, one person's fall effects the rest.

Will the new staff be able to stand the busy weekends and teasing of the senior employees? With different personalities under one roof, can they all remain professional while on the clock? What happens when the aprons are off and restaurant is closed?

One thing's for sure...not one moment at Quinn's will be dull.

Restaurant Hours:
Monday-Thursday: 8am to 11pm.
Friday-Sunday: 9am to 2am.

Happy hour (bar): - 3pm-7pm.
Back patio overlooking the Sound is closed from 10pm-closing.​

Quinn's Staff:

Management:
James Quinn.
Mary Quinn.
Joseph Quinn. (Owner's son, not management yet.)

Waiters/Waitress:
Brooke Bailey.
Avery James.

Hostess/Host:
Elizabeth Kessler.

Bartender:
Brian Pulaski.

Chefs:
Sidney Gunn.

Bus boy/Dishwasher:
Ryan Cruise.
Ethan Demas.

Other Characters:
Logan Masters.

Other Info:​

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Uniform Requirements:
Wait Staff and must wear dress slacks, and a white or black blouse. Aprons are required. Fridays and weekends, wait staff is allowed casual attire.
Casual attire can include jeans; no shorts, accompanied with Quinn's polo or t-shirt.
Bartenders must wear Quinn's polo or t-shirt. No shorts allowed, jeans or slacks only.
Kitchen staff may wear Quinn's attire or casual. No baggy clothes are permitted, or long sleeves. Hair must be up at all times.
Busers are encouraged to dress casually, but must wear a Quinn's polo or t-shirt. Aprons are also required.​

 

[SortOfBeautiful]

The couple in their mid-fifties, James and Mary Quinn, never let a day go by where at least one of them wasn’t at the restaurant. The restaurant was their life, their source of income, and the staff was their family. And that’s truly how they felt about the group of youngsters that they had hired to represent them and keep the family business afloat. They sincerely cared for each and every one of the staff they hired, even if sometimes it didn’t seem it like on the rougher days.

Mary and James Quinn gave pay advances, when money was tight for some. They welcomed other staff memebers into their home when the roads were bad, or to those that didn’t have a family to go to for the holidays. They took care of their employees, and they didn't pick favorites. Even if it seemed like they were tougher on some more than others. James Quinn gave the ‘toughest love’ of the two, but he always thought it to be best that way. Many employees came and went over the years, but to James and Mary, this was their life.

Quinn’s Restaurant was just a resting stop for some employees until they figured out where to take their life next, a side job for students, and just a job for others until something better came along. James Quinn was especially hard on the young employees and loved to insist that he was preparing them for a future they didn’t know existed yet. A future job, a future boss, and maybe a future life that they couldn’t even yet imagine. It wouldn’t be handed to them, so he certainly wasn’t going to be easy on them.


It was 4pm on Friday, just a few hours before the usual Friday night crowd usually started rolling in. Most of the staff was already on duty, but a few more would just be starting. James Quinn was in the kitchen, calling out orders to the cooks now that business was starting to roll in a little more heavily.

Brooke Bailey had just arrived at the restaurant for her shift about an hour ago, and already she was swamped with orders and errands. She was the most senior waitress on staff, so she always got to pick her zone in the restaurant, closest to the door. She found it was the easiest way to get customers in and out. More tables meant more tips. But for now, she had to expand her zone toward the bar, with the crossover shift happening now. The new waitress, Avery should be coming on soon. Brooke had trained her for a few weeks, and the new girl seemed to have been keeping up fairly well. She was a little shy, but was forced out of her comfort zone when it came to waiting on customers. Customer Service wasn't the best job for people that were quiet.

There were other senior staff members that had been with Quinn's just as long as her; Brian and Sidney. And they both had new employees in their section as well that needed an extra set of eyes kept out for.

Zipping through the aisles between tables, careful not to bump anyone, Brooke rushed through the restaurant and toward the kitchen. With every step she made, that blonde ponytail bounced and swayed behind her shoulders. She was already feeling a little impatient with the cooks tonight, and the restaurant still had yet to reach its max. Since it was Friday, Brooke was wearing a slim pair of faded blue jeans that hugged her curvy ass, as well as a tight t-shirt with Quinn's small logo on the front above her left breast, and a large text on the back that read, 'Quinn's Pub - A creative take on bar food, beer, and bourbon'. Around her waist she had tied her black apron. She never wore the full, so the half-apron just hung in front of her waist, the pockets filled with straws, pens, and change.

"Root beer! I want a root beer!" One kid was slamming his tiny fits on the table, making the silverware bounce on his napkin. Others were looking over at them, and Brooke sighed, having to make a pitstop from her mission to the kitchen.

"Okay, buddy, I'll get you a root beer, okay?" Brooke placed her hand gently on the kid's head. The mom was fuming, clearly not capable of parenting her child in public.

"No, he can't have root beer." The mom snapped back with, causing her child to wail in a tantrum. He was causing a bigger scene, and Brooke wasn't afraid to throw this kid outside if it meant he was bringing down her tips.

"Hey, little man. Listen, you don't want a root beer, do ya know why? Because we have the best water ever." The boy didn't seem convinced as he furrowed his brows at her and crossed his arms. What a tough little shit. "No, really! Because guess what? It comes with a green straw!" Brooke's tone was fake, but so enthusiastic that no five year old could know the difference. The boy reached for the straw. Got'cha, sucker. "Now, now. You can only have the magical green straw if you'll be good for mom, okay? And I'll even let you take that coaster home, too." Brooke threw in, with a little smirk curved on her lips as if she was the most clever person she knew. Kids were so much easier for her to work with.

When she was done handling the spawn of satan, Brooke turned back around to head back to the kitchen. Much to her disappointed, the food she needed wasn't ready.

“I swear to god, the redhead at table seven is going to start freaking out any minute if she doesn't get that soup. Is her order ready yet?” She poked her blonde head through the swinging kitchen doors, seeing Mr. Quinn behind the cooks, and a large pile of dishes on the counter behind him.

“It’s comin’. Quit stressin' the cooks! Shouldn’t you be worrying about table four? Last I saw, they were still waitin’ on their bill.” He pointed out through the window, causing the blonde girl’s cheeks to turn a shade of pink. Shit. How did James Quinn do it? Here he was, busying himself and helping the cooks keep up, and he still knew what was going on at the tables.

“And where is the dishwasher? Wasn’t he supposed to start at four? Look at this pile!” He sighed heavily, and that was all Brooke needed before she was backing out behind the doors before a storm started in that kitchen. The last thing she wanted was to be on dish duty. Four years at Quinn's, she had put in her time.

"Which dishwasher? Don't we have like, ten now?" Brooke mumbled, looking away. With all of the new employees, she was still having a hard time remembering everyone's name. She wanted to walk out, but she didn't want to go back out on the floor. Not until her food was ready.

"Do you want to make it eleven?" James fired back at her.

Fuck. Time to go.

"Hey, your bus boy is late, I'm not that bad guy. Love you, Mr. Quinn." Smiling sweetly, Brooke held up her hands innocently and started backing out of the kitchen again, not watching where she was going.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Running around the motel room, Avery pulled her thick, honey blonde hair up into a ponytail as she searched frantically for her other sneaker. Her shift started in less than ten minutes and she was already running behind.

“Where are you, you damn shoe.” Avery crouched beside the disheveled bed and reached under, her hand moving back and forth blindly. With a frustrated screech, she collapsed against the bed, shoeless.

“Okay, you can do this, Avery.” She muttered to herself, “Just don’t freak out and everything will be alright.”

If only she could believe her own words. Nothing was ever ‘alright’ in Avery’s world. Her life was just one big fuck up after another, as if the universe was constantly giving her the finger. What deity had she pissed off to have such a shitty life?

A pair of tiny bare feet appeared in front of her, the little toes wiggling against her own. Okay, so her life wasn’t completely awful. Childish giggles filled the pay-by-the-night motel room as Avery wiggled her toes back. Reaching out, she pulled the laughing toddler into her lap, his raven black curls bouncing as she tickled him. Chubby fingers, still sticky from the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he’d had for dinner, reached out to grab her own slim fingers.

“You like that don’t you, you little monster.” Avery couldn’t help but smile as her son laughed in her arms. What kind of person could resist such innocence?

That’s why they had to live the way they lived. To protect his innocence. To protect him from his father. Knowing that what she did was for her son, for the only light in her bleak life, made all the sacrifices mean something. Dylan was all that mattered to her now. Determined to raise him to become the gentleman that his father had never been, Avery did everything she could to give Dylan a decent life. Even if that meant living in a flea bag motel, which she paid for out of her tips each night, and moving from city to city to make sure that Dylan’s father never found them.

“Alright, little man, Mama needs to get to work.” She kissed his forehead and hugged him close, never wanting to let go. Standing up, with Dylan still in her arms, Avery tucked him into the bed.

****​

With a minute to spare, Avery slammed her locker shut and tied the half apron on over her well-worn jeans and Quinn’s black polo shirt. Okay, so her night hadn’t gotten off on the right foot, and Avery could only hope it would improve. Moving out to the main floor of the restaurant, she could already see Brooke moving about briskly, chatting up the customers and moving her tables quickly. Giving Brooke a quick wave, Avery moved to her own section, which covered the area closest to the bar, and greeted the table which had just been seated.

Never much of a people person, it was always hard for Avery to make small talk with the customers, but she was learning with Brooke’s tutelage. Moving swiftly to the kitchen, she placed her first order of the night. The kitchen looked in complete disarray and she could see that James Quinn, who had taken pity on her when she’d showed up, out of the blue asking for a job, looked ready to strangle the next person to speak to him. Ducking out quietly before he noticed her, Avery moved back out onto the floor and to her next table.

The restaurant was starting to pick up and Avery’s tables were filling quickly. She moved to the nearest one, a four top of men in business suits greeted her with lecherous grins. Great, just what she needed.

“What can I get you fellas tonight?” She asked with the barest hint of a Southern drawl.

“I’ll have a beer and your phone number.” The man nearest her, his eyes fixed firmly on the generous curve of her breasts, said.

“I can get you the beer, but I’m not on the menu.” She retorted, her face flushing. Fighting the urge to walk, no, run away from the table, Avery planted her feet firmly to the ground. She would not let their advances get the better of her.

 

[DrStein]

Logan stood out on the corner across from Quinn's he would stop in for a bite to eat soon enough. He was playing an acoustic cover of No Excuses by Alice in Chains. He had a smoky, controlled tone in a rich baritone. Years of practice on the the streets had practically weaponized his voice, giving him a quadruple octave range and a tone that could fill a whole theater unamplified without seeming too loud.

Yeah, it's fine
Walk down the line
Leave our rain and cold
Trade for warm sunshine
You my friend
I will defend
And if he change, well
I love you anyway!

He had a very emotionally faceted voice, the sound cracking slightly at the last line without losing the melody. This wasn't the sort of song he typically played for crowds, but something about it just seemed right today. He had spent most of the day playing Tom Petty covers, which went over well with most people. He had tried Nirvana at one point, but it seemed most Seattle natives were tired of hearing Heart-Shaped Box.

He finished his set with a cover of Money (That's What I Want). It was a funny and candid way to end a set and generated a few extra tips. Rather than emulating The Beatles or Barrett Strong, he played up his Elvis Presley influence.

Money don't get everything, it's true
But what it don't get I can't use
I need money!

At the end of the song, he pocketed enough money from his guitar case to pay for dinner, packed up the guitar and crossed the street over to Quinn's. It was close to the dinner rush, so there was already a slight crowd, but not enough to cause a wait for a table. He'd need to be out here tomorrow again. Since arriving in Seattle, he had been crashing on couches. He was currently with a new friend named Ray who agreed to let Logan stay there if he contributed a little to the rent and the food bill. Meanwhile, Logan was saving up his cash. It remained to be seen if this was some place he could truly settle down. He was pulling down enough money to cover living in a cheap studio apartment, which was still a dramatic luxury compared to life on the road. And if he ended up having to move on, at least he had more than enough cash to get him to his next stop. Maybe back to California? He'd always thought of seeing Frisco.

He sat at his table and looked over the menu the hostess had given him. He tuned out the sound of the screaming child and just touched the pendant on his chest, uttering a silent prayer to Coyote as he waited for his server to come by.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

"Evening Mr. Harvey, Mrs. Harvey," Brian greeted as the older couple sat down at the bar.

"Evening Brian," Mrs. Harvey said.

"Sorry about last week, my boy," the old man said a wide smile on his face.

"Ahh yes," Brian smirked. "We found out your back-ups are better than our back-ups. But come on, we didn't even play Rodgers the whole game." Brian turned to open the cabinet filled with wine bottles. Sure there were four or five open bottles set out, but that's not what the Harveys go for. "If we see you in the Playoffs, we'll show you who the better team really is."

"Like we did last year?" Mr. Harvey jabbed.

Brian laughed and turned to the lady, "While I completely ignore your husband, I wanted to show you either this pinot noir from Acacia that just came in, and this one from Weeping Trees."

"Oh," she said, "the Weeping Tree a new label?"

"Yes, Ma'am, comes from California. Owned by a musician you might have heard of, but I liked it when I tried it. Fruity, but not sweet, has some hints of a Merlot but not heavy." As she smiled at his description, he began working bottle open. The Harveys are Friday early bird regulars. They start with a glass of wine from the bar before finding a way to a table. When the bar isn't slammed like in the early part of the shift, the couple is a nice enough way to warm up for the day. Mr. Harvey knows his football, Mrs. Harvey tries to stay up with Brian's life, and together they are happy to just chat. Brian hears that they tip well too, but since that ends up on the wait staff's tab its something he never sees. Still, they are regulars, and regulars are always your first priority.

Two drink tickets comes in, and Brian gets to work on them. Light beer and a margarita for Brooke. Four import beers, two Irish two Belgium, for Avery. For when Brooke stops by to pick them up he's written on her ticket, "Young couple. He's in a cheap shirt and she's in a dress that may have passed for her homecoming dress a few years ago. " Avery's he writes, "$5 says they will be ordering Scotch neat before the end of the night." A game he plays, describe the person by what they drink. Easy to do when he has done it this long. Early bar service tends to be elderly and people with other plans. More families come through as it gets busy, but usually you can expect beers, wines, and simple cocktails. As the night wears one it can be a crap shoot; but then again the time of year can tell you a lot. A table full of beers, sports fans looking for a bite to eat. A table full of colored drinks, girls night out.

As the bar begins to fill up, a women comes in and sits at the end of the bar. She has short blonde hair, a strapless black dress barely reaching her knees, and an impatient need to keep checking the phone. When he came up to her, she was flipping through a drink menu and hemming a bit. "You look like a cosmo girl, let me make you my twist on it."

She knitted her eyebrows and began shaking her head looking back to the book.

"Tell you what, if you don't like it, it's on me."

She smirked and nodded in agreement. Her attention went back to the phone, and started angrily padding at the keys. Brain mixed the drink, shaking the cup right in front of her chilled glass. As he started to pour it, a guy walked up and put his arms around her. He was taller, wearing a black t-shirt, and had enough so much gel in the air that if he took a swim the EPA would take him to court. They had themselves a little chat, how he was late and she was being too bitchy, how he was ass, and she looked hot in that thing. She got up to head to a table with him taking the drink. As she did she took a sip and raised her eyes in enjoyment.

Figures. He tried to wave to one the girls. Make sure the douchebag gets her drink on his bill.

Another night in paradise.

 

[Spectacles]

Jesse rushed in the door, nearly out of breath. He paused by the front door to the restaurant, taking a moment to catch his breath and compose himself. His chest heaved within the black polo he wore, the Quinn's logo in small print across the left side. Worn jeans and black boots completed his look.

He lifted a hand and stroked fingers through his short blonde hair, a smile stealing across his lips. The place was picking up already with the promise of more activity as the evening stretched on. He had only a few minutes before his shift would start. True to form, he'd left his small apartment in a rush just to get here on time. Things like thinking ahead and leaving on time just didn't occur to him.

Jesse made his way to the back and to the employee lockers, opening his to retrieve a half apron. Tying it around his waist in a hurry, he rushed out to be sure he'd actually be on the restaurant floor when his shift officially started. In the building didn't count with Mr. Quinn.

His section was off to one side and away from the front door. The girls seemed to put a lot of stock in which tables they waited on, but he didn't much care and simply took whichever section was left. But his breath caught in his throat at the sight of his first table.

A group of older women gathered around the table with a different colored drink in front of each one. Gods. They'd been served their drink order before his shift started. Only one thing was bolder than a forty-something year old woman out with her friends: an intoxicated forty-something woman out with her friends.

Still. It was his job. He approached and wore his best smile, his grey gaze passing over the women. “Hello, ladies. May I take your order?”

Their eyes unabashedly drank him in. But he thought he might escape with nothing more than leering looks. That is until one, a mousy glasses-wearing brunette, was so soft-spoken he couldn't hear her without stepping up beside her chair.

That was a mistake. He'd barely heard her order before a hand brazenly palmed his ass, gripping through the jeans. He jumped and moved away. Worse still, he didn't know which woman did it.

Anger surged within him and threatened to rip away his smile. But he kept smiling. He didn't dare voice his volatile thoughts about these vultures that mistook themselves to be vixens. It was with that same winsome, fake yet real-seeming smile that he promised to return shortly with their orders.

He moved on to his next table and prayed for a screaming child or a sodden drunk. Anything but a drunk, sex-starved woman.

 

[MoreEdgarGerafalo]

Rhys was in the kitchen. He flitted about in a heroic attempt to grill 4 burgers, (three to different doneness) chop and dress six salads, and make a bowl of soup all while re-checking the freezer and fridge’s stocks and remember the steps to preparing the new chocolate drizzle cake he though up last night.

His boss, James Quinn, was barking out orders as the first hints of the diner rush began to trickle in. James was a bit of a tough nut but he truly cared for his restaurant and his workers. Rhys was comfortable being bossed around a bit but it looked like tonight he was going to get ridden harder than usual.

Hastily slapping another burger on the grill, grease splashed up onto his white apron. Fuck, he thought. He hoped his “lucky” muscle shirt wouldn’t be ruined by the end of the night. Luckily his secretly expensive black jeans had been spared.

“Have you seen SID Mr. Quinn?” Rhys asked. He thought he saw her earlier that afternoon but some days shifts seemed to blur together. He let his mind roll over a calming mantra:Om mani padme hum. He was no Buddhist but damn you couldn’t beat Zen meditation for staying serene while still getting work done.

It was at that exact moment that BROOKE, the head waitress ran in asking about a customers soup. Shit, the soup! “Sorry hun I just need to strain the bay leaf and test for seasoning, it’ll be right up. Rhys liked Brooke, maybe even to the point of a little crush. He usually wasn’t interested in blonds much but she had been so kind to him when he fist arrived at Quinn’s. Familiarity could do funny things. Swallowing, he redoubled his efforts at producing a inhuman amount of orders and casually thought of logical inconsistencies in Emanuel Kant’s Categorical Imperative.

 

[TheOneThatGotAway]

[size=-1]Sofia Oliveira stood at the maître d' podium, in a little black dress and heels that exuded an air of professionalism and class. Her sharp attire juxtaposed by the vibrant ink on both her arms. Brows slightly knit together as she intently focused on the screen display of the restaurant management program. In her head, she was assessing and re-assessing table availability with the expected Friday night crowd, while simultaneously taking into account the evening's reservations and staff on the floor.

She politely nodded to Jesse, barely looking up, as he rushed in. "Make sure you review the dinner specials, please," she calmly voiced as he passed. The young man clearly on a mission to be on the floor as soon as he could get his apron on.

Sofia sighed, and pressed her index finger and thumb to the bridge of her nose as she heard a little boy screaming about root beer. Glancing towards the tables, she smiled and shook her head as she saw Brooke speaking to the boy enthusiastically with a straw. "Magic straw. Always works," she quietly muttered to herself.

The hostess arched a well-manicured brow, when she noticed Quinn's newest waitress, Avery, walk through the restaurant's main doors; late for her shift.

Keeping her eyes glued on her screen, she spoke in a lofty, disinterested tone, "So glad you could make it in for your shift that started 15 minutes ago," she paused to lift her eyes in the waitress's direction for a brief second before continuing her work, "Avery, was it?" She asked, knowing full well who she was. "Make sure to review the specials, and touch base with Brooke, yes?" The tone of her voice more commanding than inquisitive.

When the doors opened again, they were to the restaurant's VIP guests of the evening. The mayor and his two daughters, Penelope and Rosalyn, home from college for the weekend. "Mayor McLaughlin! Such a pleasure to see you again! Ah, Penelope and Rosalyn, you both look lovely as always," she greeted with a genuine smile. "Follow me, and I'll show you to your table," grabbing a few menus, she strode up the steps that lead to the loft. She guided the family to their reserved booth that held the restaurant's best view.

While Sofia, made small talk and took their drink orders, she mulled over her choices for waiters to place on the VIP table. After a few moments, she decided to see how Jesse would fair. He'd been on the floor for a few months, never complained about which section he was in, and hell, the mayor's daughters would definitely approve of the eye candy. "Alright then, I'll get your drink order in, and Jesse will be with you shortly," she beamed.

After descending the steps, back onto the main floor, she easily found Jesse...practically being manhandled by his current table. As he walked away from the table of leering women, she grasped his arm and asked him outright, "Do you think you can handle the VIP table along with the others ones upstairs? I'll have Avery take care of #14."

The look on his face was a mix of relief and utter gratitude, "Yes, absolutely."

Sofia walked over to where Avery was, with Jesse in tow. A tabletop with four men in suits, openly ogling the young waitress. Much to her surprise, Avery seemed to be holding her ground. Look at that, kitten has claws after all...

"Gentlemen, everything okay here?", she asked as she eyed each of the men sternly while stepping right up to the edge of their table.

All four broke eye contact with her as they sipped their beers, one of them speaking for the table, while shrugging, "Just having a good time, and about to place our order with this lovely young woman."

"Oh good, very good. Because I would hate to receive a report from one of my staff, specifically, this lovely young woman, stating that her customers were sexually harassing her, and preventing her from performing her job effectively." Sofia looked at them, daring them to say otherwise, and sighed dramatically, "Then, I'd have to blacklist said customers and ban them, all because they were silly enough to mix this establishment up with Hooters". She wrinkled her nose and grinned, which was more of a baring of teeth, "Now wouldn't that just be a shame?"

The men simply cleared their throats and nodded. "It's a good thing this is a table of smart, respectful, gentlemen, isn't?, she smiled. "Enjoy your dinner," she nearly bit out, before pulling away from the table. I should have Sid service their table if they ever come back... she absently thought.

"Avery, take table #14 as well, please," she ordered briskly, as she stalked towards the bar. "Brian," she called out. "I have a mission for you. Should you choose to accept, you will be looked upon favorably by the mayor and his family."

Brian raised his brows, mid-pour with a drink in hand. "Alright, listen up. You too, Jesse. You have a knack for creating drinks special to the customer. The mayor and his two daughters are our VIP guests this evening. I did my homework on the two young ladies, and they're foodies. I guarantee if you create something specifically for them, they'll be posting about it on every one of their social media outlets."

Pulling out two sheets from her dossier folder, she placed them on the bar, "This is Penelope," she pointed to the photo of the sandy blonde, and recited the notes she had taken, "She's studying at Stanford, Pre-Med, bubbly personality, total bookworm. Seems to be a fan of light pastel tones from what I saw on her blog." Pointing to the other sheet with the brunette, Sofia continued, "This is Rosalyn. She's a Communications major at Colorado State and plays for their D1 volleyball program. She's more reserved, and seems to be the sure-footed type."

The hostess, looked at Jesse, "Make sure to notify him about what they order, so he can take the food into consideration with what they make." Eyeing the bartender, she pressed on, "If you can take this on, fantastic. If not, I understand, impromptu challenge of your talents and all," she goaded. Reaching into the dossier, she placed two $20's on the bar, "I'm paying for the drinks. Knock it out of the park, yes? Oh, and tabletop #5 needs ice." A table needing ice, was code for customers being assholes to the waitstaff - she let the bartenders figure out what to do with their drink orders.

Sofia pressed the VIP table's drink order into Jesse's palm. "Don't fuck up. If you need assistance, Brooke is your go-to. Any issues, see me immediately," and with that, she turned on her heel to head towards the kitchen, clenching her jaw as she passed emptied tables that had yet to be cleaned. She made a mental note to check the schedule for which busboys were on the floor. This was unacceptable.

Glancing towards the kitchen, it didn't take a brain surgeon to see that they were behind, and the dinner rush was coming in. Placing a hand at Mr. Quinn's elbow, Sofia voiced to him, "The Mayor and his daughters, are seated upstairs in the VIP booth. I assigned Jesse as their waiter." When he nodded his confirmation, she walked back to the front of the restaurant, and took her place behind the podium. Taking a deep breath and smiling, she addressed the newly formed line, "Welcome to Quinn's. How many are in your party?"[/size]

 

[Bevatoria]

OOC: I had this almost done and then Sofia posted...darn you!

Tags: Logan, although only indirectly.

IC:


"And the way will be made free...because it's truly meant to be...."

Nathaniel Osken's soft, dulcet southern drawl made its way through the bar area. He knew the crowd had started to pick up, and soon nothing but the most obnoxious of acoustics would make its way through the din of conversation, eating, crying kids, laughter....people. And he knew well enough it wouldn't be up to him to blast through it; that was what the speakers were for, the microphones on his voice, his guitar, as he continued to play through his set. He was very glad he'd be done soon, his assigned playing time from one until five in the afternoon, before the supper rush really got crazy. It wasn't that he hated crowds; more what it did to his music and the interpretation of it. He tried to get people to relax, to stretch out, and crowds and bustle and hustle never did that for him.

Nate moved a piece of music off his stand, his song done as he went to the next one, his guitar cradled in his lap. The music was more for reference and reminder then anything; the setlist was the most important part. His eyes, focused ahead on the crowd of people, didn't dart onto the staff of this restaurant that he'd gotten to know fairly well during his last five months of playing here regularly. What had started as a one off gig had turned into a weekly gig, then twice a week..and this week, he would be here four times. Something about a business group in town liking the ambiance he provided; he hadn't listened too closely to what James and Mary Quinn had told him.

It was more money in his pocket at a place he liked, with people he liked, as he started into a little more of an upbeat song.

"Eyes on fire, heart so true...my desire was for you..."

He caught the head of Brooke, dashing about, dealing with an obnoxious kid and family at her table. Good luck girl, he smirked, the smile sneaking in as he sung, almost throwing his voice off. Bad Nate. Back to the music. Don't let your thoughts wander.

"I thought you were the one, that we were in love, that we would be good together..."

Another moment later, it was Avery, as she fended off the advances of some overeager businessmen. Nate had a soft spot for that one, with some idea of what she'd been through - it was worn on her face (her still beautiful face, he noted), even if she'd never told him exactly what it was that dogged her. She'd also been at Quinns a shorter time then him, technically.

The difference was, Nate was a hired gun. An outsider. He didn't even have a contract, just a handshake agreement with the Quinns, who had honored it so far. And truth be told, he kind of preferred it that way.

No contract, no attachments.

"You took my money, you took my pride, when all you had to do was say goodbye..."

He caught only a bit of Jesse's hard look as he strode away from his table of women, and couldn't keep disappointment from his face entirely. Not that his chosen song didn't help, either, but it was a stark reminder that harassment in the restaurant took two forms. And while Nate would be one of the first to stand up for Avery, he also had a mind to give the women who were giving him a hard time a good talking to as well.

A quick glance over at Brian, the maestro of the bar. Nate thought he got along with him well enough, although he had a feeling that the skilled barkeep was disappointed that Nate preferred most of his drinks straight, or just over ice.

"But I'll be the one to say goodbye..."

Nate strummed the last chord of his song. On to the next one, something a little more uplifting. A quick glance at the clock, and he spotted Sofia, standing statuesquely at the podium. Now there was a woman who needed to loosen up a little...even if that made her damn good at her job. Which was enough for Nate; it wasn't his job to manage the morale at Quinn's. He just hoped he helped it enough to stay.

Only a little longer to go. He took a moment to retune his guitar, taking a breath and smiling at those who dared to look at him.

"Come on, play something faster!"

As he finished, he leaned into the mic, seeing it was someone from the table who'd given Jesse a hard time. "Ma'am, with all due respect, I think you deserve a more...subtle...tune this evening." And before she could get in a word in edgewise, he started to play again, holding his expression even with considerable effort both from the harassing lady, and the fact he was fairly certain now he saw Sofia towing the major up to the loft a few moments ago.

That's odd. Not often they get VIPs here.

But his final look was at Logan, the busker. His hands were still effortlessly plucking and strumming his guitar, and before he started to sing, he gave Logan a nod, and a smile. For as much as Nate had trained and practiced and done everything he could to keep his voice pure and clear, Logan could sing. He had a natural gift that Nate would admit he wished he had.

Nate played and sang on, his toil for the day almost over.

 

[JadeKnight]

Ryan had a nice little apartment only a few blocks from the restaurant, so he always walked to and fro work. He did have a car, but that was a waste for anything within a few blocks of where he lived. He might have had the money for gas, but he didn't want to spend his money like that.

Though the parking lot was mostly empty when he got there, he knew the place was going to get crowded in a very short time. Friday nights were always like that. It was better to get there early just so he could have a seat.

Ryan was shortly greeted by Sofia as soon as he stepped in. He thought she was a beautiful lady, but she seemed to keep herself hidden. He did find it a little odd that she didn't talk about herself much in the little time they had known each other, but he didn't pry unless it was needed.

He gave a little smile and pointed to the bar.

"No need to seat me Sofia, I'll just go to the bar."

Getting a curt nod from her, he treading his way back towards the bar area. Grabbing a seat at the end of the bar, he laid a twenty down for Brian.

"Two tequilas and a medium well steak. And keep the rest for your tip."

He leaned back for a moment as he glanced around at the restaurant. He gave a little nod to himself as he watched his co-workers going about their jobs with the same attitudes as always. They were a good bunch to work with, almost like a family to him.

 

[AnyOtherName]

Dusk Ravenholt had been on shift since lunch, but as the 'transitional hours' caused for the steady crowd to lessen to a trickle, the woman had gotten herself lost in side work. She surrendered her position on the floor when Brooke arrived at 3 and had spent the last hour polishing, prepping stations, setting up the patio, and - everyone's favorite - cleaning bathrooms. Of course she had saved the best for last, and as she emerged from her most recent task she was surprised to find that the volume of the restaurant had increased substantially.

The brunette was assigned to the patio this evening. Which was great, for many reasons: the fresh air, the scenery...people generally seemed happier out there, still able to listen to the music that was being played live indoors while avoiding the suffocation of the crowd. Plus? Dusk was guaranteed to get off the clock around 10 pm. Well. Assuming there wasn't a complete meltdown somewhere down the line, whereas the short and lithe woman would undoubtedly agree to stay and help.

Dusk stood 5'6" and was built like an elf. Small, firm B-cup breasts could hardly compete with the racks of her co-workers - but, true to her "SilverLining" gaming tag (not that anyone knew of it, here, so far as she was aware), the woman admired rather than resented the differences of their bodies. The small brunette had the grace of a ballerina, a poise and confidence of a CEO, and the disposition of caregiver. It seemed unfitting to belittle her own merits as much as it wrong to bully another over their faults; if she had learned anything from her aunt Charlotte, it had been to let go of petty competition. To try to live in such a way that she didn't negatively affect others, to be mindful of emotions and curtail irrational thought.

With her softly curling hair pulled back into a low ponytail, only her sweeping bangs and a couple of rebellious strands hung free of the confinement. Her stormy blue-gray eyes cast briefly over the dining area as she headed to put away the cleaning tote that had accompanied her on the most recent adventure, washed her hands, and rushed back out to assist.

Sofia was dispensing orders to Brian and Jesse at the bar while Brooke and Avery hustled to the needs of their filling tables. The biggest problem was easily evident, and Dusk couldn't help but smirk when she noticed the clench of Sofia's jaw as the passed the uncleaned tables on her way back to the helm that was her podium.

Dusk's hips swayed in a rhythm that matched the strumming of Nate's guitar without any conscious effort. With a natural but neutrally based smile lifting the corners of her lips, the woman grabbed a tray, a bottle of sanitizer, and a rag. She'd focus her attention first near the door - not necessarily in favor of Brooke, although the newer waitress had all the reason to suck up to her, but more so for general presentation reasons. No doubt Sophia cringed whenever she had to lead a party passed such atrocities as an unkempt table.

She loaded her tray far heavier than one might expect one of her size to heft but a toned definition emerged from her thin arms as she hoisted the weight to the level of her shoulder. She pivoted on the ball of her feet and carried the load towards the dish pit with a practiced, almost floating-like grace.

The kitchen seemed a little tense. Dusk flashed a smile at Mr. Quinn and Rhys as she lowered her tray to balance on the edge of the stainless steel lip of the dish counter. As she unburdened, she hummed the tune that had followed her from the dining area, her shoulders and waist giving subtle but sharp motions of a contained dance. No one seemed interested in interrupting her seemingly blissful existence, and as she left, she hoped that some of her easy spirit would rub off.

She sure as hell wasn't going to do dishes to make things better. Helpful as she was, she still needed to make tips to make the job worthwhile.

And so, back onto the floor she went. Patio seating usually didn't pick up too terribly until around 5, so until then, Dusk would have ample time to muck around inside and pick up whatever struck her attention. A glance at the bar made her aware that Ryan was making an off shift visit to the establishment. She grinned at seeing the shots set out in front of him - if the scheduled bus boy(s) weren't here soon, Mr. Quinn might be out here to drag the man away from what looked like could be an enjoyable night off, half drunk or otherwise.

A glance around the area picked out a table with a lone occupant, who upon only short inspection was recognized as a regular, a man named Logan. Dusk headed for his table without so much as considering whose section he was in.

"Hey there," she greeted him brightly, stopping at a position near his side. A hand rested on the back of his chair. "I'm not sure whose you are this evening..." a small glance took in her bustling co-workers. "Either Brooke or Avery's, I'd guess." Her gaze returned to the tan, dark-haired man. "But you know I'd be more than happy to get you started."

Were it non-regular customer, Dusk would've spoken in absolute certainly. Used trained professional phrasing, such as 'so-and-so will be with you shortly' and 'can I get you anything right away'? But when such forced formalities were not required, they were quickly cast aside.

 

[DrStein]

Logan listened to the music as he perused the menu. He looked up to watch the performance and returned Nathan's nod. The guy had talent. He should have been playing bigger venues than a restaurant, but such is how it usually goes. Logan knew all too well that talent was only a fraction of success. Opportunism played a greater role. Unfortunately, he had relocated so many times that he was already 30 and had never set roots long enough for a major break to be presented to him. Thoughts of actually getting a real place to live once more danced in his head. It may very well be time to stop moving around and actually get that band together that he'd always wanted.

Dusk came up to him and asked if she could get him anything. "Yes," he said in that slow, smooth tone there was so characteristic of him. "A glass of water with lemon would be great. I still need another minute to decide." Dusk was a sweet girl. But there were things she was hiding. He could tell. Logan kept so many secrets himself that he could practically sense it in other people. Most were benign. He knew when people were secretly enjoying a guilty pleasure like a cheesy song on the radio. But sometimes, people visibly carried serious baggage. He had never stuck around long enough to see someone self-destruct from these demons, and occasionally that was because he had left before the inevitable could happen. Dusk wasn't so far-gone. No. But no one could be that happy all the time. Even the most optimistic people grieve for something.

It wasn't Logan's business to pry. He would keep quiet as he always did. He would remain the charming musician regular. He gave Dusk a smile and tipped his hat up so he could see all of her face without craning his neck up.

 

[AnyOtherName]

The customer's assumptions of her couldn't be more right, but as he tipped up the brim of his cowboy hat to look at her the dazzling smile on Dusk's face shined without even the slightest trace of falsehood. Perhaps it was in the sadness in the depth of her eyes or the repressed melancholy of her soul that was her tell.

Logan was a sight. The South Dakotan born woman couldn't help but feel a tug of memories of home from looking up him; his hat, his boots... Not to perpetuate the stereotype of her home state, not everyone dressed like a cowboy. But...you could go to just about any public establishment and find someone inclined to the style of dress. Even the medicine pouch, his coyote pendent; a calling of familiarity. Dusk was no stranger to Native Americans or their culture, having quite a few friends of Lakota bloodlines. She couldn't claim to have a substantial education in the variance of tribes nor would she refer to herself as an expert in any sense.

"Of course," she returned. A short bow of her head was given as she turned to sashay towards the beverage station. It was but moments before she returned with glass of water, a wedge of lemon placed neatly along the rim. She grabbed a straw from her apron and held on to one end as she pulled the paper sheath apart. Remaining mindful not to actually touch the exposed utensil, she placed it in his glass by her hold at the still-papered tip. It hadn't nearly been a minute, and Logan seemed content to continue his study of the menu, so Dusk merely flashed him a smile before wandering to off to check the patio.

On her way, she looked over the bar and considered Brian. It hadn't taken long to find out that he was a devoted Packer's fan, on which revelation Dusk had wrinkled her nose and called him a 'stinky cheddar head'. She had only a mild interest in the national football league but the surrounding of her brothers had instilled her with Viking blood. She'd attended a few games in the Metrodome and couldn't help but have some team spirit in response. Enough to tease a co-worker about it, anyway.

...She'd have to ask River (her eldest brother; and yes, all of her siblings were named in hippy fashion) for some specific stats this coming season to use as insults towards the bartender's team. Playfully, of course.

Before exiting the main dining area, the woman glanced towards the stage. Nate wouldn't be playing for much longer, she noted sadly, rather enjoying his style of music. Well aware of her weakness for musicians, Dusk had remained more cautious than usual in his presence. She was by no means unfriendly, but her guard was perhaps employed more heavily than it was for others. Even now, soaking in the sound of his voice, feeling the strum of his finger through the heavenly melody he coaxed from his guitar...

She waited until she broke line of sight, feeling a light burn on her cheeks. She shook her head and gave a weak laugh at herself.

 

[KattDclaw]

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[Vailyn]

Tara Seong

"I did it. Ha! I did it!" Tara Seong said out loud as she looked around the renovated church with a mix of pride and exhilaration. "Damn Sam for encouraging me to do crazy shit."

Almost half a century ago, a well to do artist bought a rundown, abandoned church and renovated it into an interesting home. The original stained glass windows were kept in tack. Otherwise, the interior was mostly redesigned and rebuilt. The building was small for a church but rather large for a house. The basic layout is a single floor with a large basement and a bi-level apartment in the back where the pastor and family used to lived. The church had another touch up about fifteen years ago and became a boarding house. Then something happened to cause the place to be sold at auction and now the whole place was hers.

Last year, when life had taken an abrupt turn, Sam, Tara's step-dad, had supported her decision to travel and embrace new experiences. "There's only one life for you, kid. Go live it!" So, she did.

Tara's a natural musician. She grew up playing the piano before she could walk and picked up several instruments as she grew older. Though she can play several, she usually plays piano, prefers acoustic guitar over electric, bass or violin. Once she makes a decision, Tara embraces it completely. She left NYC, spent a wild couple of months traveling and performing in several cities all over the US. Then she stopped in Seattle, fell in love with the area and came back to make what her Mom called home base. The place you return to no matter where you go. That was over six months ago and Tara's been looking to find a place of her own.

None of the apartments or shared home places vibed well with her. She was starting to think that she wouldn't be able to find a place at all until she came across the church during one of her aimless strolls around town. One thing lead to another and a few months later, Tara is the proud owner of her first home! None of it would have happened without Sam's help.

The past month has been spent making sure all the plumbing, gas and electric worked. All the rooms have been repainted, new (used) appliances installed, wooden floors stained and one alteration completed. The basement was a large open area with a room and half bath. Tara couldn't resist making the open area into a practice room. She had the walls and ceiling soundproofed. Now she had a ready place to practice any time or day.

She just moved in Monday. The church is mostly empty of furniture because she didn't own any until now. Most of what she has gotten her hands on are from auctions and garage sales. Her choices were fairly sound and the whole looks rather good together. Even though the place still looks kinda empty. Tara arched her back and stretched her arms up high while standing on her tippy toes. She checked her watch and saw that it's almost 4 pm.

"Crap!" Tara stopped organizing books, ran to take a fast shower and get ready for work at Quinn's bar and restaurant. When she decided to settle in Seattle, she got a part time bartender job to pay the bills while she took time to explore the city and looked for live music venues. It was a happy surprise to find out that Quinn's also had a stage and live music almost every night. Now Tara worked there almost everyday as either a bartender or performer. The next step is to find musicians to play with. She has her eyes on a local favorite named Nate. She privately nicknamed him the Balladeer. There's also a busker named Logan that she's seen playing around recently. He's not polished but he has a way of singing that really catches people's attention and draw out a response.

The plan for today was for her to approach the two musicians and see if they would like to jam with her. Tonight, she's scheduled to play piano from five to seven and then she's working the bar from eight to close. If she didn't hurry, she wouldn't get the chance to talk to Nate before he leaves or have time to catch up with the busker. It's a good thing the Church is close to Quinn's! One of the many positive aspects of getting the place.

After a fast hot shower, Tara dabbed her favorite cologne behind her ears, at the base of her throat and between her breasts. She threw on matching cream push up bra and underwear, pulled on a flowing sea green v-necked summer dress that came down to her mid-thigh, and yanked on her favorite four inched heeled rugged black leather boots. The well broken in leather conformed to her calves and gave her petite frame a little boost of height. Being a tame five foot two and half inches tall Asian could be a pain sometimes. She threw a change of clothes into her leather shoulder bag, grabbed her keys and hustled off to work.

Luck must be on my side. Tara thought as she made her way into the restaurant and heard Nate performing. Oddly enough, she didn't see Sofia at the front podium. Ah. Sofia was by the bar and talking to Brian. She grinned at the expression on his face and stuck her tongue out at him. Better you than me!

Tara looked around to see if Logan was around. She's seen him come in and eat a few times. She found him seated at a table and talking to a new waitress that she didn't know very well. Perfect! Maybe I can talk to them both tonight.

She waited until Sofia left the bar before heading over and getting a glass of coke with a shot of cherry liqueor. Her brown eyes laughed plenty as she turned to Brian. "Did you get ambushed? Nevermind! Tell me later. I'm all set at the Church. Do you know anyone that's looking for a room? I've got three rooms to rent. You should help spread the word. Crap! I have to go. I need to talk to Nate before I start playing." She pinched his butt as she passed by and ran off before he could get her back. Brian was one of the handful of people she's grown comfortable around. He's sense of humor ran right along with her own.

Not one to wait once she has a plan, Tara weaved around the tables, stopped next to Logan and introduced herself with a smile. "I can't talk much right now because I'm due to play next but I wanted to say that I really like your singing. If you ever want to jam with me sometime, let me know. In fact, I'm going to see if Nate will play a tune or two with me tonight. You're more than welcome to jump in if you like." She looked over at Nate. "I think he's wrapping up. I should go. Come talk to me later. I'll be either playing the piano or tending bar."

Tara flashed another smile at Logan and went to the Baldwin upright piano that was on the right side of the stage. It was a real beauty! One of the older, dark wood framed pianos that has been kept in great condition. Quietly, she put her things down and sat on the bench to listen to the last of Nate's set. She clapped loudly when he wrapped up the song and announced he was done for the day.

"Nate, jam with me tonight. I'm playing until 7 tonight. It would be great if you could play a tune or two with me. You know you want to! It will be a good time." Tara grinned at the scruffy musician. She's been slowly wearing him down over the past few weeks and hoping he'll give in and jam with her. She knows that he usually plays by himself but there's something about playing with other musicians that can be really amazing. Tara thought that he would be great to play with but she won't know until they try.

 

[SortOfBeautiful]

Backing out of the kitchen, Brooke felt herself bumping into something. Someone.

"Ouch, fuck, watch where you're go...,"

Brooke gasped, and caught her balance as she spun and grasped on to the man behind her. She knew that voice. That face.

“Joe!” She exclaimed, her voice higher pitched than usual, and loud with excitement in the back hallway in the restaurant. God, how long had it been since she’d seen him, a year? She knew that Joseph Quinn was a busy guy; she’d first met him when he was just seventeen and in high school, helping out his dad however he could in the restaurant. And soon after graduation, he had busied himself with college. But here she was, four years later, still working there. Fuck, she hoped that wasn't too pathetic. She’d always gotten along with him, and he’d always been so successful in getting that blonde Seattle-native to laugh loudly.

Excitedly, Brooke threw her hands up and wrapped them around Joe, pulling him in to an excited, warm hug. “God, it’s been so long! How long are you back for?” She asked, pushing back to look up at him. She swore, he’d gotten taller. And…he no longer wore the face of a boy, but a man. It was like looking at a different person. Except that smile. No, that Quinn smile was still the same as she remembered it.

”Joseph, you’re here!” James Quinn called out to his son from inside the kitchen, pushing the doors open. He looked over at Brooke, disappointingly. ”Don’t you have tables waiting for you, Brooke? Go.” He shoo’d her away, and Brooke took a few steps back, grinning. Busted. She mouthed that she would catch up with him in a little bit, and James was grabbing his son, thankful that he was there. ”I have tables that need to be bused. Grab an apron.” She heard Mr. Quinn saying to Joe as she walked away, peering over her shoulder at the two before she disappeared back on the floor.

Brooke was watching the other wait staff carefully. As one of the more senior staff members, and the most senior waitress, she felt it was her job to look after them. They had all passed their training, and seemed to be doing well. It was the weekend crowds that the new waiter and waitresses would just have to get used to. Like the flirting, and sometimes grabbing. It seemed that sometimes it was difficult for customers to remember that they weren’t at a strip club, but a restaurant. But it just came with the territory.

From the table she was helping, Brooke looked over to see Sofia assisting Avery with her difficult table of guys. Brooke frowned. Avery seemed to have been holding her own, and…well, to be honest, that kind of interaction was good for the new girl. The last thing Brooke knew that James wanted the staff to do was drive away customers. If someone was being disrespectful, he would take care of it if the staff couldn’t defend themselves or take care of it themselves. So, Brooke would have preferred if Avery had handled it on her own. She knew Sofie had the best of intentions. That girl had a lot of heart, but she sometimes took her job way too seriously. The host job was perfect for her, since she seemed to be almost OCD with her organizing skils and splitting up the zones between the waiting staff and distributing customers fairly. But the way she came across sometimes was a little demanding and bossy. Brooke just took it stride, shook her head, and went on with her shift.

Walking over to the bar, Brooke picked up the drinks that were waiting for her. She smiled when Brian had left a note for her on the ticket, like he sometimes did.

"Young couple. He's in a cheap shirt and she's in a dress that may have passed for her homecoming dress a few years ago."

Turning around, Brooke looked around and immediately spotted the young couple at one of her tables. Brian was right, the poor girl’s dress was hideous. Hopefully her date could overlook that. Turning back around, she waited for Brian to free up at the bar before she called out her next order for him. She rarely wrote anything down.

“Hey, Brian? I need a glass of merlot, local. And…god, what was the other drink that girl wanted…” Brooke pursed her lips together, shifting her weight to one leg as she tried to remember. “Oh, she wanted a Panty Remover? Please tell me you know what that drink is, the girl had no idea what was in it.” Brooke was about to step away to deliver her drinks to the young people, but her blue eyes were distracted when they found Nate. He’d been at the restaurant more than a few times, always to play music. Sometimes she found herself swaying or humming to his songs, almost forgetting that it was him playing. It didn’t help that he had the most adorable Southern accent ever. She smiled, and looked at Brian once more. “And a glass of water.” She added to the drink list, and slipped away to get back to her tables.
After dropping off the drinks to the couple and taking their order, Brooke took their order over to the kitchen and called out their order to Mr. Quinn who wrote it on a ticket for her. As she waited, that smile kept reappearing on her face when she saw the soup for the redhead was finally ready.

“Mm, smells amazing, Rhys, you’re the best! Hey, Sid. Welcome back to the madness.” She grinned over at the other girl as she came back from break, then took off with the soup. Knowing her, she’d probably knock the whole damn thing over before she even made it to the table. But much to her luck, and relief, the soup made it to the impatient redhead without any spilling.

When Brooke made it back to the bar, the glass of water was ready for her, but not the wine or Panty Remover. Not one to rush a bartender, Brooke took the water and carried it over to the stage. Nate was still playing a song, so instead of disturbing him, she just set the glass of water carefully down on the stool next to him, gave him a cute little wink, and then hurried off back to the bar to check on her drinks. That’s when she found Sofie giving Brian some kind of drink orders for the Mayor’s daughters, and she’d apparently assigned Jesse to wait on them. The Mayor came quite often, sometimes with his daughters, sometimes not. He was a long-time old friend of James and Mary Quinn. Brooke had waited on them before, and they weren’t hard people to please.

“This isn’t rocket science, Sofie. It's a restaurant. And they’re college students. I’m sure anything is an upgrade to the beer keggers they probably have at school.” Brooke laughed loudly, trying to just lighten the mood as she thanked Brian for getting her drinks to her so quickly, and spun on her heels to leave the group before she said anything she might regret. When she turned around, she found Ryan sitting at the bar. Her eyes widened, and she laughed.

“Ryan! What are you doing here, I thought you were off today. Couldn’t stay away, huh? Don’t let Mr. Quinn see you, he might put you to work.” Brooke’s lips curved, grinning as she patted her hand gently on his shoulder and took off to get back to work. James was always watching.

Brooke found that Dusk was on shift, finally, and was talking to someone at one of the tables in her zone. It didn’t upset Brooke, especially since the girl was new and eager to help, and when Brooke came closer she saw that it was Logan, one of the regular guys. She wanted to say hello, but it looked like Tara was chatting him up now, so she left him be and went back to work, hoping Dusk would continue to take care of him since she had already taken his drink order.


--------


James Quinn may have been in the kitchen at a particular time the PM shift started, or seemingly busy with certain tasks, but he wasn’t blind. If anyone thought that they had snuck in unnoticed, they hadn’t. Quinn’s customer traffic was surely picking up this evening, and it made it even more noticeable when someone was late to their shift, or was too busy chatting instead of working.

”Staff meeting in five minutes.” James announced to the kitchen staff, and made the same announcement personally to each of the waiting staff, and the bartenders. Of course, at least one of each still had to stay, and that was usually the most senior person on shift.

Not every day, but once every now and again they would have a staff meeting in the kitchen when something needed to be said. The meeting was always in the kitchen, so the cooks could still work. The space was also limited, so if you didn’t like your co-workers, well, get comfortable. And when James Quinn said that there was a meeting in five minutes, he meant it. Because right on the dot, he was pushing the kitchen doors open making his way to the middle of the kitchen between his staff.

”I’m not sure if everyone’s aware, but there’s a concert goin’ on downtown and once that’s out I have no doubt that they’ll be comin’ in here for food and drinks. They’re going to be loud and probably obnoxious, so let’s not let it get out of hand in here. And I swear, whoever keeps breaking the glasses I’m finding in the trash…it’s going to come out of your paycheck.” He sighed, not really sounding too threatening, just exhausted.

“Oh,” He added, looking around for particular faces. “And if you showed up late today; you know who you are, I expect you to stay late in return and take over cleaning duty with the busers. You all know where the brooms and vacuums are. Take care of the windows while you’re at it, too. I’ll be leaving shortly before closing, so, Brian and Sidney have the keys, they’ll be locking up. Also, to those of you haven't met my son, Joe," James motioned over to Joe, who was putting on his apron. ”He'll be helping us out today, so if you need anything at the bar, the tables, or in the kitchen, he's your guy." James paused, and looked around. “That is all, now get back to work!” He added, sticking around incase anyone had any questions.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

Brian Pulaski

As soon as Sofia walked away, Brain turned to Tara with a laugh, "Who keeps a portfolio on their customers. Does she stalk them or something?"

"She can stalk me," a regular said who was noticeably sniffing at Sofia while she was standing next to him.

Point a mixing cup at him, Brian laughed back, "Shut it Mitchell or I will shove a microchip up your ass and stalk you myself."

With in a couple of minutes it was done. A note left for Jesse next to three glasses, the first clear tall glass with a orange rind twist, the second a martini with soft red color, the third a shot glass with brown liquid:

Brunette: Bombay Sapphire and a secret mixer & orange twist. If she asks, its a specialty diet sour and the whole double drink is 65 calories.
Blonde: Pomegranate Grey Goose Martini, if asked there is a hint of cinnamon
For you: Jack straight, you're going to need it​

"Damn these notes are getting too long," he grumbled and went back to work. But this thing he does with the drinks and the people, its his form of art. Nothing to write home about, well maybe back to Wisconsin where that's kinda cool, but throwing out notes like that is just bragging.

But who was he bragging to, the cute wait staff? Uncorking another bottle of Merlot he grumbled, "I really need to get my shit together."

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He tried to keep from letting his eyes roll. Sure he was going to work late anyway, story of being the bartender, but once again the Quinns throw down detention and make Sid and him enforce it. He tried to catch Sid's eye with a smirk, wondering if this time Sid was an enforcer or an enforcee.


“That is all, now get back to work!”

Brian clapped his hands once, raised them above his head, and called out "And anyone knowing anyone who needs a place to live, see Tara." Giving Tara a smack on the bum he joked, "there you go kiddo, I spread the word."

As the group started to leave the kitchen he looked to the waitstaff in front of him. "So, who's staying late with me? Who's on the broom party? Brooke? New Girl? The other New Girl? Please say I will have a little company tonight."

 

[DrStein]

Logan looked up from the menu, having made his decision. He saw someone coming his way out of peripheral vision and smiled, expecting Dusk, Brooke or another server. Instead it was Tara, one of the other musicians and occasional bartender. She introduced herself and then let loose a torrent of verbiage and Logan sat there with his lips parted as if frozen in the act of responding to her greeting. Before he had a chance to respond, she excused herself and went to the stage and took her seat at the piano. Logan, unfazed, just shrugged and said to no in particular, "I'm glad we had that moment."

He looked around, noting the busy crowd and accepting that his order might take a while. Nobody's fault, really. It was just one of those things you had to accept as part of the dinner rush. He probably could have waited another hour or two before getting dinner, but he really wanted a water to refresh his throat. Logan was extraordinarily protective of his voice. He didn't smoke, he didn't drink, and aside from the occasional hallucinogens he never indulged in any illicit substances. Of course, for him hallucinations were more spiritual than recreational. He knew people perceived him as a bit of a hippy, but it was difficult to deny his sincerity.

He watched the stage as Nate finished up his set for the night. The invitation to jam was compelling. He'd wait and see what the set list looked like. If nothing called out to him, he'd talk to Tara at the bar. In the mean time he patiently waited for a server and watched the performance.

 

[Vailyn]

Dan, one of the regulars who liked to drink a few beers and watch sports at the bar came by with a message. "Hey there, little Tara! Are you performing or working the bar tonight?"

Tara flashed him a grin. "I'm going to be playing for a few hours and then I'll be back there with Brian for the rest of the night." She tilted her head towards Nate. "If I'm lucky, Nate might jam with me for a few songs."

"Oh yeah? That would be cool to see! I don't think I've ever heard you play with someone before, Nate. Good set tonight. I never know what you're going to sing, man." He clapped Nate's back with a hearty gusto before turning to Tara. "Oh right. Brian sent me over to tell you there's an employee meeting in the kitchen. You can't miss it. He also said you'll owe me a drink. I want one of your made up concoctions."

"Sure, I'll make one up for you later tonight. Thanks, Dan." Tara started to walk towards the kitchen but paused to look over her shoulder at Nate. "I hope you stick around and jam with me tonight. Can you also announce that I'll be up to play soon? Thanks!"

Tara made her way to the kitchen, saw the crowd around James and ended up standing in Brian's shadow. She gave him a playful jab in his side as she jostled into position. It was hot in the kitchen. She could feel sweat gathering on the back of her neck. But the food smelled great! She forgot to eat that day and looked forward to her mini break between performing and the bar. Maybe she can inhale a cow! She hid her grin behind Brian's back.

After James gave the update and introduced his son Joe to the crowd, Tara became the center of attention due to Brian's very helpful antics. She rolled her eyes at Brian before laughing. "It's true. I live in this great renovated church and I have space for a few roommates. Come talk to me if you're interested or pass the word to anyone that's looking. I appreciate it."

She turned to Brian and slapped his butt. "I'm working later tonight, Mr. Air for Brains. I'll be here till the bitter end." She covered her rear with her small hands and escaped. Tara made her way back to the stage and checked the sound system.

"Good evening, ladies and gentleman. Welcome to Quinn's! I hope you're having a great Friday night. My name is Tara and I'll be playing the piano for your entertainment. If you have a song request, come by and let me know. Don't forget to tip your waitress or bartender! They're here to serve you the best that Quinn has to offer." Tara announced with an engaging smile on her face. The crowd seemed to be a little older and generally cheerful.

Tara sat down at the Balwin, ran a few scales to warm up and started playing Queen's Crazy Little Thing Called Love. An interesting song to play that most people will recognize. Tara knew a wide repertoire of music and she tried to play the songs that will suit the mood of the audience as well as the location. It's early on Friday night and people are coming out of a long week of work, wanting to relax and party. Tara hasn't sang on stage yet. She's waiting until she gets a gig on a busy night to showcase her voice.

I hope Nate or Logan will jam with me tonight. I haven't had a jam session in ages!

 

[Spectacles]

Jesse Trask

Jesse walked a warpath, body language betraying what he dare not say aloud. He clenched fingers into fists, knuckles white at his side, the table's order smushed into his palm. He ground his teeth down against each other and glared at no one in particular.

Breathe. He needed to breathe. He relaxed his hands against his side and slipped the order into a pocket in his apron. Going postal on a bunch of so-called cougars would not keep the paychecks coming. He fucking hated this idea that sexism was one sided, that women could never be guilty of it. Fuck them. A gay guy catcalling and asking for his number would be flattering in comparison.

He stopped in his tracks on his way to the kitchen with the order. Please, for the love of God, don't let that be Sofia approaching him. She ran the floor like a military commander. Some nights it took all his willpower to not ask who stuck the rod up her ass. But then, as hot as she was, half the time he wanted to ask her how she'd like his rod up her ass.

He stood dumbfounded as she grabbed his arm. Personal space was a myth in a busy restaurant with everyone weaving about to see to the customers, but did she really have to make a point of grabbing him like some misbehaving toddler? He rewarded her with his best I'll-smile-if-I-have-to smile while imagining holding her arms behind her back with his hips grinding forward against the curve of her naked ass, the back of her little black dress lifted.

She asked that he take the VIP table in the loft along with the other tables up there, and he responded with “Yeah, absolutely”. It's not like he had a say in the matter. She was the boss on the floor unless the owner intervened. Anyway, his gratitude was genuine. If it kept him away from pawing hands that treated him like a bachelorette party stripper, then he was her man for the job.

He trailed after Sofia as she continued through the restaurant, knowing she'd have more to say about the VIP table. He felt like a child following after an adult, nevermind that he was taller than her at an even six feet.

Sofia moved on to a table of men eying Avery the way a fat lady stares at the last piece of cake. He wanted to feel sorry for the girl, but he was too jaded by his own experiences. Men kept their hands to themselves far more than over-bold women did. At least Avery seemed to take it in stride without freezing up.

It was during Sofia's tirade at the men that Jesse bit at the back of his bottom lip to keep from bursting into fits of laughter. Disobedient, the corners of his mouth framed a smile, and he did his best to keep it server standard and friendly. Not so subtle threats like Sofia's were completely unnecessary. Attractive wait staff got harassed. End of story. Threats like hers only brought attention to the things no one wanted to dwell on. The wait staff could fend for themselves, anyway.

It was one more moment that he found himself trying to picture Sofia naked and on all fours. Was she this uptight in bed? Did she yell at lovers for not making the bed before mounting her?

But he breathed a sigh of relief as they moved on to the bar. It interested him to hear that the VIP table was the mayor and his daughters. There was no doubt as to the importance of that table. But he looked to Brian as Sofia went on about the daughters, silently mouthing a single word, “Stalker”, to Brian from his position behind Sofia.

He wore an amiable smile when Sofia turned back toward him. “Right. Don't fuck up.”

Jesse watched Sofia move on toward the kitchen, glad to be rid of her and her orders. Sure, she meant well, but he half expected her to order him to drop and give her twenty pushups with every command she gave.

He flashed Brian a Lord-God-someone-save-me-from-bossy-women grin and headed off toward the stairs to the loft. The mayor and their daughters were in their usual booth, the two daughters seated on one side of the table and the mayor on the other. The girls had their heads together, whispering to each other, as he approached. Jesse took in all three, the mayor included, with his smile. “Hello Mayor. Ladies. My name is Jesse, and I'll be your waiter this evening. Your drinks are on their way.” He took his pad and pencil from a pocket in his apron. “Now, what can I get you tonight?”

A few minutes later, he walked back down the stairs to the main floor, lingering by the bar just long enough to flash the order pad at Brian. Jesse knew nothing of bartending and had no clue if the food order actually mattered in deciding what to make, but he knew Sofia would ride his ass like a sex starved convict in a conjugal visit if he forgot to show Brian.

He made his way to the kitchen and had the luck to walk in just as the meeting started. He whistled to himself at the mention of concert goers possibly going balls to the walls. Quinn's wasn't the kind of place to attract the bar fight scene, and Mr. Quinn liked to keep it that way.

Jesse was the first one out the door as the meeting dispersed. He passed by the bar to collect the drink order for the VIPs. He read the note and grinned before swallowing down the shot of Jack meant for him. Exhaling with a sigh, he quickly penned a note and left it for Brian: “I think I love you. In a I-won't-penetrate-you and you-won't-penetrate-me kind of way.” He sported a grin still as he collected the drinks meant for the two girls.

Carefully balancing the drink tray, Jesse made his way back up to the loft. Wearing his familiar smile, he held the tray in one hand and approached the table. He set a drink down in front of the blonde. “A Pomegranate Grey Goose Martini for you, Penelope.” Sofia's portfolios may have been on the creepy side, but he'd learned during his two months here that you learned customer names whenever possible. “And for Rosalyn: a Bombay Sapphire with an orange twist.”

The two sipped their drinks as he turned toward their father. “The food will be out shortly, Sir.”

Rosalyn spoke up as he started to turn away. “Hey. Jesse, right? We were wondering... how old are you?”

Penelope leaned in over her sister from the far side of the booth, her blonde hair brushing over the other's shoulder. “Not that we're stalkers or anything. It's just that you look about the same age as us.”

His smile was genuine for once. “I'm twenty two. Now, if you'll excuse me, I can't chat when I'm on the clock.” He left the table to go take more orders from the other tables in the loft, already enjoying the experience of serving up here.

 

[Bevatoria]

Nathaniel Osken

Tags: Tara, Brian indirectly, Dusk indirectly.

With a final strum of his guitar, he raised his hand with a flourish, getting soft applause from the folks who weren't neck deep in their meals...and rather loud applause from one particularly devoted fan in particular. He gave a soft, warm smile to Tara, who'd taken up position at the piano on the stage. Normally, he didn't like spectators close, but she was not just a spectator here; one of the other bartenders. Nate wasn't sure if she was as good as Brian at drink mixing, but since he drank straight stuff anyways it didn't matter. Plus, he couldn't do what she did with her napkins sometimes...

"Thanks everyone." He said into the mic, leaning back and exhaling, wiping sweat from his brow he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. Playing live was always a rush, and he started to pack away his guitar...although he stopped closing the case when he saw Tara was nearby. She'd be hard to miss, and Nate felt his eyes running over the green sundress she'd chosen to flatter her form tonight.

Even if the words were his real concern.

"Nate, jam with me tonight. I'm playing until 7 tonight. It would be great if you could play a tune or two with me. You know you want to! It will be a good time."

He smirked. She was half right about it - he did 'want' to - but his hesitation was partially out of financial concern as well. It might be dangerous to set a precedent... "I'll think about it..." He started. It was the same answer he'd given her for weeks, and the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he should say yes just to get her to stop. It wasn't out of disrespect for the spunky, friendly, and admittedly attractive bartender. But if he played for free once, they might expect him to do it all the time...and he had a hard enough time tracking down paying gigs outside of here.

Bullshit. You know that's not what's stopping you.

It seemed Tara was engrossed in a conversation with someone, and she suggested Nate might join her. Great. Just what he needed, more pressure from her and outsiders to join. He took the hearty backslap with another smile from the well wishing patron, hearing Tara's request to announce her. With a nod, he leaned into the mic, making sure to meeting the eyes of anyone still listening.

"Ladies and gentlemen," The mic seemed to amplify not only his volume, but the level of his accent. "The lovely Tara - who also works here, I might add, and makes lovely drinks - will be playing in a short while, so make sure you give her lovely tunes a listen as well while you enjoy the...fine food and service here at Quinn's." With another polite nod, he went back to packing up the guitar he'd been using, before moving to the twelve string he'd also bought with him, near the back of the stage.

He hesitated, lost in thought as he slowly started to put everything away. It'd be simpler to do what he'd done before, just politely make his exit, not even staying to listen to Tara. He'd heard her play, and she was very good...it seemed like the Quinns chose their entertainment well. So why was he not willing to just enjoy himself? Let loose a little?

Would it be so hard to admit he was enjoying it here? To be more then just the hired gun who played two or three days a week, but wasn't really a part of the 'family'? Nathaniel looked at his guitar, a frown on his face. Sometimes it was hard to make attachments, to make real friends. To let someone like you - or even love you - and to do so back.

Besides, if this didn't work, he could always just pass it off as a one time thing. He didn't know how long he'd been lost in thought, but he was broken out of his reverie - staring down at his guitar case at the back of the stage, drumming his fingers on it - until he heard Tara's voice.

"Good evening, ladies and gentleman. Welcome to Quinn's! I hope you're having a great Friday night. My name is Tara and I'll be playing the piano for your entertainment. If you have a song request, come by and let me know. Don't forget to tip your waitress or bartender! They're here to serve you the best that Quinn has to offer."

He blinked. Huh. That seemed to be quick. As he squeezed his eyes shut, maybe it was a sign he needed to sleep more. He watched Tara sit down at the piano, noticing that she hadn't taken down his mics yet - that would have been his job anyways - giving a quick look to Brian to make sure he hadn't turned them off yet. With a sigh, Nate decided he might as well give it a try. He'd pass the word to Brian or Sofia later to let the Quinns know that this was not a sign he wanted to play for free.

With a grin, he pulled out his twelve string acoustic - much bassier then his normal weapon of choice - tuning it as she warmed up. Then, she broke out into her first song. The smile didn't go wider on his face, but his eyes widened a little, smiling for him. The same way they did whenever he caught sight of Dusk working the tables.

Good choice of song by Tara, he noted. Not his usual style, but...he could hear a bit of a hush go through the crowd as he sat down back at his stool, carefully positioning himself near his mics as she went through the first verse, instrumentally. It was beautiful, and he wasn't about to interrupt it, but after she finished the chorus, he started to strum the beginning parts of the song, leaning in and turning towards Tara with the easy smile.

"I s'pose I'll take you up on your offer, if that's all right..." he saw the answer in her look, and then started singing in time with her, letting the piano lead as his guitar filled the ranges it couldn't.

"This thing...called love...I just...can't handle it..."

Although his country stylings on the lyrics probably weren't exactly what Queen had in mind, from the reaction of the patrons most seemed to like his spin on it as he started to croon, a little more hesitant then usual as he hadn't played with another musician in a long time. Still, it was working well, and he met gazes with the crowd as he sang; the only thing making it better would've been if Tara was willing to trade verses with him, but she hadn't found it in her to sing yet.

Hell, he didn't even know if she was any good, come to think of it. But if her skill with the piano was any indication...

"There goes my baby...she knows how to rock and roll..."

And it was pure coincidence that he looked at Dusk just then, seeing if she was swaying to the music like he'd caught her doing before. He adored women with a sense of rhythym. Which she seemed to have in spades.

Or she enjoyed his music, which was fine too.

 

[AnyOtherName]

Dusk Ravenholt

The guests on the patio were fairly standard; a pair of couples on a double date, probably eating early so they could avoid paying $20 for tub popcorn at the theater later. They each ordered a drink from the bar and a water. Yep. Too early in their evening to be getting wasted just yet.

Dusk didn't expend any time bullshitting with them. It was easy to tell which tables desired the 'I could be your friend' sideshow and those that simply wanted to be served their orders. She gave them a sweet smile. "Sounds great! Say - did you guys want me to get an appetizer started while you look over the menu? Our shrimp and artichoke mini peppers are to die for."

One of the girlfriends perked up. "Oooh, that does sound good. What do you guys think?" The boyfriends gave no resistance while the other girlfriend excitedly agreed. Dusk was given a nod. "That'd be great, thanks."

"Fantastic! I'll get the order in right away and I will be right back with your drinks."

The dark haired woman made her way back inside and put her orders in. While selecting the items on the touch screen, she danced subtly in place. It wasn't about the constant movement so much as the affect of allowing music to flood her consciousness and, therefore, drown out the second and third levels of thought. Music was an escape, and her body responded to it naturally - thankfully, her co-workers had never witnessed her idiotic dancing at home as she did chores.

From her position, she watched as her confirmation caused a ticket to print out at the bar for her drinks. Being that she wasn't the type to write as she took orders (she didn't even carry a tablet in her apron) she was glad Quinn's had a computer system. A brief thought on the matter reminded her that she hadn't seen the old fashioned 'submit a handwritten ticket' system since she had left the midwest.

Her eyes scanned over the restaurant. A line had formed and it wouldn't be but moments before everyone was pushed full throttle. James Quinn, ever knowing and with an uncanny sense of such things, had placed the time of a staff meeting perfectly so that it didn't inconvenience the customers, who would find themselves seated with just long enough to consider their drink orders before their server appeared.

The meeting was routine: a few notes on the night, extra cleaning duties for the late kids. Of particular interest was an announcement from Brian, stating that Tara had rooms available at her house. For a moment Dusk thought how much more convenient it would be to not have to drive back and forth to the burbs but...she couldn't sell and didn't want to rent her late aunt's house. Still, she smiled. No doubt Tara was going to have one hell of a fun place: the people here were amazing, there couldn't be a better place in the world to find roommates.

Brain looked at the waitstaff. "So, who's staying late with me? Who's on the broom party? Brooke? New Girl? The other New Girl? Please say I will have a little company tonight."

"It's Dusk, and supposedly I get off at ten tonight. I'll stick around if the concert keeps us busy enough for us to all stay on shift until closing." She grinned. "And, if not, maybe I will hang out for some drinks so I can watch you master the custodial arts."

Dusk was less terrified at the prospect of becoming part of the family that was the staff at Quinn's than she had been initially. Tonight might be her first night staying beyond her clock-out time, though it had yet to be seen.

Exiting the kitchen and walking back out to the dining area, her gray-blue eyes settled on Logan. He had the water that Dusk had fetched him, and a menu that had been placed disinterestedly on his tabletop. Dusk rushed over.

"Sorry about the wait, Logan. I didn't realize that I stole you for the night." She smiled and brushed a loose strand behind her ear. She'd need to apologize to Brooke about that. "What's the verdict this evening?"

Tara began playing in the background and Dusk could imagine her skillful hands gracefully working over the keys of the Baldwin that she knew to be on stage. It wasn't long before Nate joined her in a unique rendition of Queen's Crazy Little Thing Called Love. She almost shivered as the lyrics poured from his lips in his honeyed southern accent. Dusk gave a stupid little smile to Logan. She hadn't heard him sing or play, yet, but from what she heard, he was probably dangerous to be around, too.

After he finished giving her his order, Dusk gave him a nod. The present song was infectious, and as always, the lithe woman seemed to find her happiness in a corresponding sway of her body. "Are you going to be gracing us with your presence on the stage this evening?"

 

[DrStein]

Logan took note that even with the dinner rush, things seemed to be a little slow. Maybe there'd be an extra server appearing in the next week or two to keep up with the crowds. He smiled at Tara's choice of song. More surprising even when Nate joined her for a duet. The looks on their faces made it clear they hadn't planned this ahead. Nevertheless they had the skill and experience to made it sound like they had. It had been a while. Perhaps he would take Tara up on her offer.

Dusk came back to his table and still looked as pleasant and patient as the moment he walked on the door. It was rare as all get out for Logan to show any form of negative emotion. "That's alright, just enjoying the music." She was a pretty girl. Whatever she was hiding inside didn't seem to tarnish the outside in any way. Logan entertained the idea that perhaps he was mistaken. That he was overconfident in his observation and was imagining stories he found more interesting... There was a song in there somewhere. He filed the thought away, determined to get some ideas on paper as soon as he got back to Ray's apartment. "I'll have the cheesesteak with a garden salad instead of fries."

She jotted down the order and took his menu before they both looked back to the stage. She asked him if he'd be going up there. Logan watched the stage thoughtfully for a minute. He had played in bands before. Before leaving LA, he played bass and sang for a ska band called Ska Face. While in Austin he played guitar for an indie band called In Cars. In New York he had a (thankfully) brief stint with a punk band called Dysfunctional Nun. It was around that time he decided that he should stop trusting other people to name the bands. Still, there were good memories there. He missed the camaraderie, the groove of a group of musicians all moving in energized sync. He wanted that feeling again.

"Yeah," he finally said in answer to her question. "Why not?"

He sat patiently after Dusk left. He waited for the song to end. He wouldn't dare interrupt a performance this good. But once they finished, he gave the audience a moment to applaud before standing up and striding up onto the stage. "Room for one more?" he asked, completely un-self-conscious. Where ever Logan was, that was exactly where he wanted to be. "You guys know Solsbury Hill?" It was a perfect song for the occasion. He was going to move beyond just busking. He'd be working with real musicians again. He wanted to sing the song that had started it all for him.

 

[JadeKnight]

Though he probably shouldn't have, Ryan took it on himself to grab the bottle of tequila from behind the bar. He only did it since Brian didn't seem to have heard him. It wasn't the first time had helped himself to his own drink, plus he always made sure the bartender got his money for the alcohol.

Ryan had just finished a shot when Brooke came to give him a little warning about being put to work. He gave a bit of a smile as she patted his shoulder with her small hand.

"Don't worry about that. I'm sure tonight will be fine."

Ryan's blue eyes followed the beautiful blonde as she headed back to the kitchen. The images of seeing Brooke on her knees in front of him or bent over the bar went through his mind before he pushed them aside. After pouring and putting back another shot, Ryan's stomach gave a bit of a growl.

"Hey Brian, want to take my order now or should I get one of the waitresses to grab it?"

 

[KattDclaw]

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