Quinn's Bar & Restaurant [IC]

“Aww c’mon, babe.” The man persisted, his hand coming to rest heavily on her waist. “I like a woman with a little meat on her bones.”

As if he were the funniest man alive, his buddies laughed loudly, the crude sound nearly overpowering the musician on stage. Avery winced at his words, the same words that Dean had used to say to her before the verbal abuse started. Her hands shook, but she forced them to steady.

Thankfully, before anymore could be said, the force of nature that was Sofia made its way through the tables towards Avery. Breathing a sigh of relief, Avery quickly agreed to take over Jesse’s table and, she forced the men to hurry up with their drink orders before moving to the extra table.

“Hello, ladies.” She plastered on her best smile, “My name’s Avery and I’ll be your waitress tonight.”

“Where’s the little hottie with the body?” Asked one of the women, her words slightly slurred, showing she’d already had a drink or two before coming out with her girlfriends.

“He was called away.” Avery replied shortly. She really wanted to tell these women off for treating Jesse like a piece of meat. But she bit her tongue and took their drink orders.

Rushing to the bar with the newest order, Avery took a moment to lean against the bar and breathe. Her hands still shook from her encounter with the men at her first table and the painful memories their treatment had brought up. Seattle was her chance to start over. The last thing Avery wanted was reminders of the life, and the man, she’d left behind.

Brian set the drinks in front of her, his little notes about the women making her smile. She thanked him and moved back to the table of cougars.

Her tables kept her busy until she had to rush to the kitchen for the staff meeting. Walking through the kitchen door, the wave of heat hit her like a brick and sweat immediately formed on her forehead and dripped down her back. How did the kitchen staff do it night after night? Mr. Quinn moved through the meeting quickly, hitting each point and making sure that everyone knew that shit could, most likely, hit the fan tonight if they didn’t keep the concert goers under control.

Great, Avery thought, another late night. Hope the babysitter doesn’t get pissed.

Suppressing the sigh that threatened to come from her lips, Avery ran a hand over her hair, smoothing out her ponytail. She could only pray that her tips tonight were enough to cover the babysitter’s fees. An extra hour or more was going to cost her an arm and a leg. Those concert goers had better not be cheapskates.

Mr. Quinn dismissed the meeting and, suddenly, Brian’s voice was calling over the crowd. His words caught Avery’s attention. A place to stay? Living in the motel was getting old, especially when Avery often went to sleep with the sounds of the hooker next door and her latest john bumping uglies. A new place to live sounded nice. And it would give Dylan a more stable environment.

Glancing around for Tara, Avery saw her already making her way to the stage.

Guess I’ll catch her after her gig, she thought.

"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."
Brian’s voice followed Avery. She paused. If she was already going to be staying late a few extra minutes couldn’t hurt. Plus Brian was a nice guy and he seemed pretty fun.

“Um…I can stay.” She said quietly. “I mean, if you need me to.”
 
When SID walked back into the kitchen from her break, Rhys looked up. Oh, yeah, she just nipped out for a cigarette break, the thought. He noticed an odd look on her face and felt a pang of worry. She was always tempestuous and he had learned to give the girl with the teal hair all the emotional and physical space she seemed to need. Rhys actually found the spritely thing a bit intimidating. In his mind he called he “Sid Justice” after the near seven foot tall ex-wrestler.

He thought he noticed a bit of blood seep from her clenched fist. I should really say something, he thought to himself. But if she really needed any help she’d ask...right? As he started hacking away at a head of iceberg lettuce Mr. Quinn called out that a staff meeting was about to start. The fuck? Now? I barely have time to scratch my ass and Mr. Quinn wants to give out MORE orders? Rhys’ mind immediately went THERE again. He would be fired, he fucked up somehow and he would be out on the road again. He had finally settled into his quasi-normal life here in Seattle and he cherished it above everything...except maybe his ’68 Harley.

Soon it was clear that the boss was just pissed that some of his employees had shown up late. No not pissed...weary. When Mr. Quinn glanced at SID as one of the workers that needed to stay late Rhys piped in. “I’ll help with clean-up. All the cooks are under me, anything they do I’m responsible for. Half-expecting to get a tongue lashing from SID for butting in in her own business Rhys let his gaze wander to Brooke. Damn she looks good tonight. He thought.
 
Brian Pulaski

Looking back and forth, Brian leaned over the bar closer to Ryan pulling a pen & pad out, "Alright, tell me what you want and then tell me what the hell did I ever do to piss of Sid?" It probably wasn't anything he did to Sid, but her attitude tonight chapped his hide. "Tell ya what, if you can wait a little bit, Ryan, I will put this in after the Quinns leave and I will make sure it comes out without the bill. Just go easy on the tequila."

When the concert rush was on, and it was bloody at the bar. They were three deep waiting for their drinks. Luckily it was mostly beer. Any monkey can run taps, which makes keeping up easy enough. That and getting Tara back following her jam session helps. Having the little Asian spitfire back there lifts his spirits too. Of course, there wasn't much room back there either and dancing around her meant that a few times they rubbed just in the right way for his tastes. "Sounded good up there, Kiddo, like that you are putting together some stuff. Getting any takers on your church?" Listening to her, he stopped long enough to shake up a martini. He tended to like to do the above the shoulder technique, never hurts with this younger concert crowd to flex the guns.

As it happens, Dusk and Avery arrive at the drink pick-up stand at the same time, and Brian slid right on over to them. He's finishing up both their orders, a glass here, a mixer there, and a couple pints to match them all up. He points at them both, "Dusk ... Avery ... Right?" Of course he pointed to the wrong one when saying each of their names, but he missed that. He whips out three shot glasses and fills them all with peppermint schnapps, "Here's to staying late tonight, right?" and offers the other two to them.

He hears a splatter. IPA keg went empty, and he looks over his shoulder yelling to Tara, "On it!" He jumped from out behind the bar and was running back to the cooler. He nearly ran over Jesse, and turning back as he passed he kidded "Don't make me penetrate you, newbie."

The night was becoming the bliss that is chaos. Live in the moment, pull a tap, fill a glass, make a joke, and head on to the next. No need to think, no need to react, just give the customer what they want, make them smile a little bit, and you are bound to get them to come back ... and let's face it, that's all the Quinns really want. Keg switch done, and he cruising through the kitchen on the way back out. "How's everything going back here guys? Holding your own?" He looked back at the crew, in part to indeed check on them -- not that they needed it, but its good to know in case you needed to defend the crew-- but also in part to check to see if the Quinns were gone. Of course, part of it was checking on Sid too, see if he can crack that nut.

Coming back out, Tara was battling the crowd impressively, the kid had skills and in her time here they made a good team. It gave him a minute to grab Brooke as she went running by. Unafraid to put an arm around her waist he said quietly into her ear, "When the old man goes home, let everyone know ... bar will stay open as long as we are all here. I think with all the newbies we all need to let our hair down a bit tonight."

When he finally gets back to Tara's side, he cracks his knuckles, gives Tara an exaggerated pat on the rump, then looks to the crowd "Ok, Who's Next!!"
 
"What kind of dressing, hun?" She'd mentally note his answer before asking about his intentions regarding the stage.

She beamed a smile at Logan as he agreed to make an appearance. "Great, I look forward to it!"

She would've loved to stand around and chat but she had drinks waiting and, undoubtedly, seats filling on the patio. With a sudden pivot on the balls of her feet, she set herself towards the bar. Her eyes strayed towards the stage, a dreamy expression crossing her features as she admired the reflection of the stage lights on Tara and Nate's faces.

God damn! How does this place have the hottest employees of anywh--

Sid had to throw her body out of Dusk's course of collision and gave an appropriate 'what the fuck' expression of shock and annoyance in response. Dusk stopped abruptly and gave a sheepish smile as the teal haired beauty hissed a verbal retaliation. Just on the cusp of uttering something stupid, like 'oh hey, didn't see you there', the process between thinking and speaking was interrupted by Sid's clawing motion, clearly being at the waitress. Repressing a laugh, Dusk drew her brows together and hissed back; not in words, rather, a full-on cat hiss. None of this had stopped the other woman from moving towards the bar, which was Dusk's destination anyway, so she trailed along to grab her drinks. With a grin on her face she passed uneventfully, picking up her tray and heading out on to the patio.

Drinks were served, more orders were taken. She had done this sort of work for so long (in other establishments, of course), that the routine was little more than putting herself on loop.

Introduce yourself, take drink orders, get a general gauge of the customer(s). Engage desired banter level, leave. Bring back drinks. Take food order, continue to dance like a trained monkey if necessary. Bring back food, more drinks. Check back. Fix problems - which, at Quinn's, were very few; a 'problem' usually meant a customer ordered a steak medium rare when they clearly wanted medium or some such nonsense. The cooks here were amazing. Drop off a check, run their bill...rinse, repeat.

As she caught up to the sudden volume of guests on the patio, she sauntered back inside. Logan wasn't at his table, but she prepared his salad for him and left it in the cooler with the intention of bringing it to him when he was ready for it.

Tonight the process was a blur. She didn't fuck up anyone's orders because the of auto-mode, but she wouldn't recognize any of the non-regular customers even if she saw them the next day. Her mind was elsewhere, finding levity in the sounds of music the drifted above the clamor of the noise inside.

The rush of the concert crowd made things hectic but Dusk seemed to thrive in the chaos. Her smile remained unfaltering and her hips swayed in-time with the music that filled the restaurant and patio. One of her returns to the drink pick-up area of the bar allowed her a moment with Avery, a newer girl like herself, whom she hadn't had the opportunity to know much at all. The women had been trained separately, for the most part.

Dusk's smile widened sincerely. "How is the night treating you?"

Brain appeared with their drinks in a flash. After hearing Avery's response to her question, Dusk looked at the bartender as he mis-assigned their names. She couldn't tell if he was fucking with her or if he genuinely was uncertain to who was who, so she didn't correct him. Instead, she grinned at the offered shot.

"Here's to staying late tonight, right?"

"What the hell, why not?" She took the shot into hand and hefted it into the air. "Cheers!" She'd hope to receive the approving round of clinks from her co-workers shot glasses against her own before taking the peppermint schnapps in a quick back tilt of her head.

The liquid warmed her throat as she swallowed; she felt a light stiffening of her nipples in response. Not so much, though (or so she hoped), that it would show through the material of her Quinn's t-shirt.

"Thanks," she started, towards the bartender, who was already gone. She shrugged and smiled at Avery before placing her drinks onto her tray and hustling off towards the patio.
 
Having finally gotten Brian's attention, he took a moment to think about the bartender's suggestion. Although he was hungry, snagging a few rolls from the kitchen would tide him over for awhile. He chuckled for a moment as he dropped the bottle of tequila back behind the counter.

"I'll just grab a roll or two from the kitchen then. And three shots is enough for now. And don't worry about Sid, she is always in a mood about something. "

After Sid flipped him off as she stood in front of him, it made him think of the first time they had met. He had been washing dishes and she had came back to grab some clean pans for the line. She was in a foul mood, complaining loudly. Thinking he might help, he gave her what he thought was some advice to help her. Her response was flipping him off and telling him to shut up. Ryan didn't miss a beat as he went to attention and gave her a salute in response. Sid just narrowed her eyes and left. He continued to salute her every time she flipped him off, making it into a game. Not that he did that every time, as the circumstances didn't always allow it.

He chuckled softly as he watched Sid make her way up to the stage. She was like an enigma wrapped in a mystery. She was definitely an interesting young lady and breaking into the core would be quite the challenge. He continued to watch her until she disappeared into the slowly growing crowd.

He watched the tv over the bar for half an hour before deciding to grab some rolls. Despite the growing rush, he managed to keep from messing up any of the servers from dropping their stuff. He opened the bread maker, pulling out a couple of hot rolls.

Since he didn't have the chance to mess with Sid earlier, he took the chance.

"Hey Sid."

He went to attention, saluting to her. He stood that way for a few seconds before hightailing it out of the kitchen and back into the bar.
 
Friday Night. 7:45pm. [Ethan's Apartment, in Seattle, Washington]

``..that Vizzini. He can fuss.``

``Fuss...fuss..I think he like to scream at us.``

``Probably, he means no...harm.``

``He's very short on...charm.``

``You have a great gift of rhyme.``

``Yes..yes. Some of the time.``


Rumble.

``Enough of that.``

``Fezzik, are there rocks ahead?``

``If there are, we all be dead.``


Rummmble. Growwl. Hrm. Might be a lil' past time for something to eat. Hitting pause on the remote, he reached for his. Phone. Pizza Hut would certainly do! Yet before. Any of that. A text. From...a bit ago?

LISTEN KID. WE'RE SHORT TONIGHT. COME IN ASAP!

-JAMES


That was...from almost. Three. Hours. Ago.

Deep. Breath. Swallow.

As You Wish...
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Friday Night. 8:10pm [Quinn's Bar & Restaurant, Seattle, Washington]

Across town. Zipping along curbs. Sidewalks. And evening streets. On his used Schwinn ten speed bike(which he purchased on Craig's List). It was the means of his transportation. Between here. And there. Yet riding at night. Always was a concern. One could never be too careful. The roads were saturated with, far too many. Impatient and reckless driv---

Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetchhhhhhhhhh! he squeezed his handle bar brakes. That one didn't even SEE him!

Licking his lips. Steady, steady now. Looking both ways. And picking right back up again...

Pulling up at the destination. A lot full of. Cars. He parked the bike to the rear of the building. Hitching the chain around the inside of the front wheel. And looping it around the cylindrical lamp post available therein. Locking it in place. Securely.

A moment. To adjust. The black Quinn's Polo Shirt. Faded blue jeans. The zipper was up. His New Balance shoes were laced properly. Brushing his dark locks out of his eyes. Ethan went ahead and opened the back door to the establishment.

Quickly padding over to the Employee Locker Room vicinity. Knot. Tied. Apron on.

Alas. Ready as can be, Ethan Demas made his way out. Onto the main floor. Or was about to before one. James Quinn. Yanked him back. Into the Kitchen.

"Nice of ya to show yer face, Kid." he grunted, clearly unimpressed with the bus boy's response time to his 'cry for help'....some hours ago.

"S-sir, my phone...it--" Ethan attempted.

"Forget it. Tommy's out. After his fourth NO-SHOW! I'm desperate. Was this close.." he motions with his right thumb and index finger, "..to putting RYAN out there to work, but figured I'd cut him a break. Since I stole his last day off from him." He gives the young man a once over, before barking, "Okay. Enough with the standing around. Dishes. Tables. Go. Go. GO!"

"Yes, right away Sir!" He scurried on off. To the back. Where the sink was. And the backlog. Of soiled silverware. Food stained plates. Used glasses. Dirty pots and pans. The lot of cooking utensils. Quick to allow a civil greeting to the staff in the area. Before. Getting to work. Gloves on!

Soap. Lots of soap. Filling one -- the far right -- of the three sectioned sink. Reservoirs. With the soapy water. He liked to allow. The hot containers. A chance. To soak. Dumping all of the unclean items in the middle space. Whilst tackling the actual scrubbing/washing on the left. One at a. Time. There would be progress. Before placing. Be it cup, spoon, or spatula. On the clean counter. To be dried.

Ethan was conscientious enough to work through the load. Wiping down the moisture around the sink. And making sure. No puddles were on the floor. Gloves off. Before slipping on out. To his original intended direction.

The main floor. But not before catching a whiff of some of the sizzling meat RHYS was cooking. Guuurrrrgle. His tummy again. He couldn't help but savor the sight and smell, "Looks amazing, Sir. Wow..."

Reaching into his pocket. A lifesaver would have to tide him over for now. Smiling and waving at RHYS, he headed on out. Through the doublement of doors. Into the Hallway. And out. Onto the floor.

Wow. Crowded Tables. Busy, busy. Noisy. Lots of conversation. Laughter. It seemed more packed than usual. For whatever reason. He searched for empty plates. Or spills. Messes, which would require his attention. Azure eyes scanned. All around. Coming across...

TARA. Behind the bar. With BRIAN. Tending to all of the beverage orders there. Ohh, TARA....
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Friday Night. [Between the Here and the Now]

The concert hall was magnificiently...elegant. High arched ceilings. Glass chandeliers. Sculped columns. Tiled mosaics. Murals. A perfect auditorium, with. Soft, ambient lighting. And...

Music. Her music.

The exotic beauty -- Grand Piano behind her -- sat on the stage. By herself. With the Jean-Pierre Lupot violin upon her left shoulder and collarbone. TARA begun to string the bow across. Delicately. As James Horner's My Heart Will Go On played. Instrumentally. For one. The very special. Audience member. Her lone guest. An important person. And male individual.

Him. He couldn't believe it. She was giving him a personal, dedicated performance. The sweetness of her cords penetrated. His heart. As he basked. In the magic. Of the moment. And held his breath. She smiled. Utterly, sharing his joy. His delight. His...love of the right here. The right now. This. And them. They. Together.

Ethan noticed a tiger lily. In her hair. Loooovely. Lady. The sleek, black dress. Absolutely...perfect on her.

Mesmorized, he hadn't noticed. The song was over. She had stopped playing. Everything....was...moving so slowly. He got up. Suddenly. And began to make his way. Over. To the stage. She was all ready on her feet. Heading in the same direction. To meet. One another.

To meet. One another.

To meet. One another...

"Watch it you KLUTZ!"

Huh?
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Friday Night. 8:45pm [Quinn's Bar & Restaurant, Seattle, Washington]

He was carrying a tub of dirty and used dishes, yet unknowingly was standing in front of a table. His sky blue irises gazing. Blankly. Before him. Seemingly unseeing, directly in front of him. As the images soared. Throughout his mind's landscape.

"Watch it you KLUTZ!" yelled a guy at that table. Wavering, the tub almost came crashing down onto the table. And onto spaghetti and meatball main course he was partaking in.

"Hum-um-um-umm..."

"I said WATCH IT, you KLUTZ!" his face now beet red. Blinking. Huh? Ethan barely steadied the tub in time. His eyes wide. Face broken out. Into instant apology.

"Sir, I'm..I'm so sorry. That was my fault, for sure. Yes, Sir. I am a 'klutz'..," he squeeled, swallowing. And then taking a deep breath, "I am going to get out of your way now, Sir. Again. I cannot apologize enough!"

The man seemed to settle back down. Somewhat. And was happy to be rid of the boy. Ethan took his cue, regained the lost of his composure. Brushing a dark lock out of his eye. And quickly recoiled on out of there. With tub in tact. This time. Ever so careful. To watch his step. Back into the kitchen then. A fleeting glance at TARA on the way out...
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Jesse navigated the stairs to the loft in what had to be the umpteenth time. This was the first night he'd been assigned tables up there, and he was ready to consider the constant trips up and down a flight of stairs the hardest part. It was worse than that. He had to carefully balance trays of food while avoiding bodily collisions with anyone else going up or coming down the stairs. But the smiles of the two girls upstairs, the mayor's daughters, were a pleasant reward for his efforts.

The VIP table was serviced and enjoying their meal. Success there so far. He made his way to the bar with the drink order from another table. Avery and Dusk were there already, and he took a moment to admire the view of them from behind. He loved Quinn's casual dress policy on the weekends. There was just something about a woman's ass in tight jeans that did something to him. He glanced down with a soft laugh under his breath. That something was happening now and made him all the more thankful for the half apron worn over the front of his jeans.

He stepped up behind the two waitresses, reaching past them to slip the drink order on the bar. Jesse did his best to keep from bumping into them. It wasn't easy with people constantly surging past in the busy restaurant. He could've sworn that the hard denim of his jeans crotch pressed into the lower back of one waitress or the other a time or two, but he didn't even know which one he'd bumped, if it was just one of them and not both.

He wore a grateful smile and paused at the bar to lean in with a hurried whisper to Avery. “You're my hero for taking over 14. A goddess.” He grinned and lowered his voice further. “Spill something on the blonde at that table for me?” He was joking, of course. Jesse didn't want any of the waitresses spilling food on the customers. He wanted one of them to dropkick the bitch.

Smiling still, he moved away from the bar, intent on delivering orders to the kitchen and was nearly knocked on his ass by a rushing Brian. At that comment about penetration, Jesse laughed, and that laughter carried through to his tone. “I'd assfuck you to oblivion!”

The grin slipped from his lips as he moved on to the kitchen, that intense heat hitting him like a punch to the gut. How the fuck did the cooks stand working back here? It felt like rivulets of sweat were already streaming down the small of his back. But the heat was not the true danger of the kitchen. This was the lair of the Sid. Jesse left his tables' orders and backed up in a rush to rejoin the hustle of the busy restaurant, his feet carrying him back onto the floor.
 
Tara Seong

Playing music isn't about just following the sheet music and playing it perfectly. Tara loved being able to alter the way she plays a song to be expressive with the way she feels or how the song makes her feel. It's the way you can take a song down to the very basic core of what it is and have that poignant simplicity speak for itself. The way you can add individual touches and add layers of meaning to pull on the listener's heart and move their body.

The instinctive ability to key into a crowd isn't a skill that everyone learns but Tara has lived and breathed music for all of her life. She could feel the diners' light attention grow more curious and invested when Nate layered his compelling voice and guitar to the song. The impromptu duet became a playful testing ground as Nate and Tara adjusted to each other, adding counterparts to solos and showing of flourishes to showcase their skills. They ended Crazy Little Thing Called Love on a bold note and Tara flashed a happy grin at Nate. It was as good as she thought it would be!

"Ladies and gentlemen, that was Nate Osken on guitar and vocals! Wasn't he great? That was our first time jamming together on stage. There's a tip bucket at the stage. We appreciate your donations! It's our pleasure to play for you tonight. Don't forget the great staff at Quinn's that works hard to serve you well!" Tara's engaging voice called out on the microphone.

Logan came up to the stage and asked to join the jam. "You guys know Solsbury Hill?" He joined them on stage and they discussed how they wanted to perform the song. Tara suggested that Logan sing since it was the first time he would be playing on Quinn's stage. Nate would lead and Tara would play accompaniment.

Silky strands of hair tickled Tara's neck as she turned to use the mic, "You guys must be my lucky charm tonight! We have another guest musician on stage. Please welcome Logan Masters! Enjoy the song!"

To her surprise, the three of them played and experimented with one another for the entire set. During the break after the first set, Tara's brown eyes sparkled with excitement and enthusiasm as the trio held a mini pow wow on what they would play for the next set. It was much more than Tara had expected and she felt honored that the two talented men were having as much fun jamming with her as she did with them. "Let's do a shot to celebrate! It's on me."

Tara shared her music high with a huge grin. She flashed it at Brooke, who was carrying a tray of food, and called out, "Don't they sound great? I can't believe I finally got them to jam! It finally happened!" She shared an air high five with Brooke before making her way to the bar.

She saw a familiar set of broad shoulders and back of the new guy sitting at the bar. As she edged around the corner to get behind it, she teased Ryan, "Don't you have a life? You would make more friends if you stopped being so dark, silent and broody."

Turning to grab a bottle of vanilla vodka, she crashed into Brian's firm chest. She shook her dark hair out of her eyes as she laughed up at him. "Watch it, farthead! I know you just want to grope me, you perv!" She bumped him with her hip as she went around him and grabbed the vanilla vodka. "Can you put three shots of Nilly and two beers on my tab? I'm treating the guys for playing with me."

Tara lined up three shot glasses, filled them with the flavored Stoli and spritzed a little sprite in each. Taking up two bottles of a local beer, she set everything on a tray and headed back to the stage with the goods. She made sure to slap Brian's ass on the way out and shared an impish grin with shy Avery. It's no secret that Brian and Tara had a silent war on who can tweak the other's nose the most. By her count, Tara was ahead on the ass smacks.

At the stage, she handed out the Nilly shots out, toasted their fun jam and tossed the drink down. Her head tilted back, the graceful line of her neck curved slightly as she drank down the shot. Her lashes fell shut for a brief moment as the harsh liquor burned its way down. She let lose a short shout of glee and laugh, beamed at the men and stated, "You two are great! I've missed being able to jam. Let's keep going!"

The second set passed in a blur as the trio performed exuberantly. Each of them bouncing energy off of each other and the audience. Tara thought she saw one Dusk dancing by the stage once or twice. She always seems to find the flow of a song and fall into it. Swaying to the music as she worked.

They ended the set with a rousing We Will Rock You and hearty applause from the diners. "I really appreciate this guys. I know it's not a good idea to play for free when it's how you make a living. You two split the tips. It's all yours. If either of you are interested, let's plan to play together. I would love to do that."

A loud gurgle from her very empty stomach interrupted the conversation. Tara's cheeks flamed as she laughed and patted her tummy. "I'm starving! I need to get dinner before I go on duty at the bar. Thanks guy! I had a blast!"

Quinn's was filling up with barflies and diners. She noticed that Joe, the boss' son, was working hard to clear a large group table. "Hey, let me give you a hand with this. My name is Tara. I usually work the bar when I'm not performing." They worked quietly and had the table clear of dishes in no time. "Crusty goo clean up is all yours!"

Tonight must be a night for collisions! she thought as the kitchen door opened before she could open it and Jesse walked into her. "Woah! Sorry! Looks like I'm a bumper car tonight." GuRrrGull "Uh, I need food stat." Eyes still sparkling with the successful jam, a gave a sheepish grin to Jesse and entered the kitchen. Looking to make sure she didn't get in the way again, Tara saw the kitchen staff hard at work.

"Rhys? Sid? Can I get a burger and small house salad? I forgot to eat and I'm up at the bar at 8." While she waited for the food to be made, Tara took the time to talk to James about the possibility of her performing solo as the main show and if he would be interested in starting a jam session night. A night where musicians are encouraged to stop by, try out new things and play.

With a grateful smile, Tara took her food out of the chaos and found a spot by Ryan at the bar. She sank her teeth into the hamburger with a moan of appreciation. "Mmmmmm! God I needed this." She saw Mr. Silent eyeing her burger with a clear sign of want. He looked a little like a starving puppy. The image made her laugh inside. She tore the burger in a messy halves and put the unbitten half on a napkin in front of him. "Here. You look like maybe you need this as much as I do."

Humming along with the song being played over the PA system, Tara noticed Sofia actually glaring at two men standing in front of the podium. The unusual sight of the hostess not smiling politely was explained when she noticed how the guys were showing bare chests covered by dingy shirts and barefoot. No way are they getting in like THAT.

In the locker room, Tara changed into a white Quinn's shirt and acid washed blue jeans that clung to her slight frame. She tied her long dark hair into a high ponytail. Ponytails can be dangerous. A nice little weapon to fly around and smack unsuspecting bartenders.

The concert crowd jumped the energy up higher and filled the restaurant to the brim with a rowdy crowd up for more fun. She overheard the byplay between Brian and Jesse. She couldn't resist plopping a loud smack on Brian's butt. "What?!? Are you exploring new territory, Brian? Is there a bromance in the air? Are you ready to lose this cherry?"

Another bustling night at Quinn's past in a blur of conversation, orders, jokes, mixing drinks, pouring beers and quick cleanups. The silent war grew a little heated as Brian took advantage of their close quarters behind the bar. Still riding the performance high that has been kept up by the high energy of the jovial crowd, Tara made a few counter moves of her own. The next time he made a point of sliding across her from behind with a sly grope, she altered her grooving to the music to a swiveling slide up and down against his clearly active body.

Stepping away to deliver the drinks she just mixed, Tara turned to Brian and stuck her tongue out. Laughing, she leaned towards a regular and asked what she wanted to order.
 
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Brooke Bailey.

That small restaurant in the heart of Seattle was getting busier by the hour. With the concert letting out at the Key Arena, only blocks away, music-loving Seattle-ites were looking for a good place that was still open, offered good food, and cheap booze. Quinn's had been around for so long, no one would have to walk very far to find what they wanted.

Soon enough, the wait to get a table grew longer, keeping Sofia busy, and there wasn't an empty seat at the bar. That kept all staff more than busy in the kitchen, the bar, and out on the floor. Brooke's feet were starting to hurt from all of the running around; she definitely have to soak them in the tub, later. The music was getting louder, to compensate with the extra voices in the restaurant, not that Brooke minded. Tara was on that stage with the two boys for what Brooke believed was the first time. And they sounded amazing. God, why didn't James book them all at once, sometime? They sounded amazing together, like they'd been at it for years! Laughing at Tara, Brooke gave her the air high-five from across the restaurant, then spun back around to check on her customer's food in the kitchen.

It was about that time that Brian had grabbed her by the waist, spinning and keeping her in place. He was taller, and a little stronger, and at least caught her from falling on her ass. After a loud gasp, she laughed at him, shaking her head when he said to spread the word for the staff to stick around. "Yeah, maybe tonight we can finally initiate some of the new staff onto Quinn's. Surviving three months here is good enough, right?" Hah! Try three years, or four, in Brooke's case. Brian and Sidney, the other two that had been at Quinn's for a while, were like family to her. Sofia too, when she had her good days. She didn't know how long the new people planned on staying; so many had come and gone over the years, but they all might as well enjoy their time together while they could, right?

James Quinn was still working hard, helping the cooks in the kitchen and getting everything pushed through when Tara came in and placed her order.

"I'm kind of busy at the moment, Tara, maybe we can talk about this tomorrow? Or run it by Joe and the other musicians, and get back to me. You know I think you're all great, I just can't think about it all right now." Believe it or not, that was actually James being nice, and understanding. He wanted to listen to Tara, he just didn't have the mental capacity right now to do so with all of the orders coming in.

James announced that he was leaving, and started making the rounds, making sure that everything was stocked in the kitchen, the bartenders had everything they needed, and he gave direct orders to certain individuals as he passed.

"Brooke, keep an eye on Jesse, Avery, and Dusk, make sure they're keeping up and we're officially closing the patio for drinking. I don't want any of those drunks falling off the back deck...Brian and Tara, don't make anyone wait too long for a drink, especially a refill...Sofia, make sure the busers are clearing tables faster...Joe, make sure the bar stays stocked with glasses and ice for drinks, help anyone that needs it!...Rhys and Sidney, less chattin', more cookin'....Ethan, don't you dare leave that dishwasher...Ryan, if you want overtime, grab an apron..."

By the time Mr. Quinn was gone, it seemed that the staff was more eager to actually work hard, rather than slack off. While it was nice that the boss wasn't looking over everyone's shoulders anymore, it was still a lot of pressure to get the job done right, so they all didn't have to hear about it the next day. But as nice as Brooke was to everyone, anyone who did slack off would have hell to pay with her. This might be a part-time job for some of them, something they did to fill the time or until they found something better, but for her, this was still her job. And she'd be damned if any of them made the rest of the night fucking miserable.

Glancing up at the loft, Brooke frequently checked on Jesse and then the rest of the girls. More than a few times when she rushed, that blonde ponytail bouncing everywhere, she dropped a few water glasses on the way to the kitchen. When she snuck the broken glass into the back room in the trashcan, the mystery of the glass-breaker was now solved. Brooke Bailey was guilty.

Back in the kitchen, Brooke sighed heavily, exhaling a deep breath as she tossed her tray in the sink, uncaring where it bounced off to. She was fucking exhausted.

"Who wants to trade positions? My feet are killing me, I'm starting to sweat, and if one more person starts singing more Coldplay lyrics from that concert, I'm going stab them with a straw." The outburst was very unlike Brooke, but it wasn't the first time. The kitchen seemed to be a safe place for most of the staff to come into, it seemed, to vent their frustrations and let it out in the one place the customers couldn't hear them. Which is probably why even though the chefs were limited to one room in the restaurant, they knew everything that went on outside those kitchen doors.

Looking around for Joe, she didn't find him in the kitchen, and decided to face the music, so to speak, and get back to work. Just as she was walking back out onto the floor, an argument was starting over at the bar, and Brooke looked over just in time to see a customer punch another many off his barstool.

 
Brian Pulaski

Sliding through the kitchen, Brian hears something from Brooke and just can't resist. He makes a beeline to the bar and returns to find Brooke still there. Singing without music slowly, with broad emotion, and not with much talent he begins:

When you try your best and you don't succeed.
When you get what you want and not what you need.


He opens his arms wide, serenading to Brooke. Doing an impression of a crooner.

When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep - Stuck in reverse
He moves to the front of her, arms still wide, and moving down to one knee.

Lights will gui-i-i-ide you home,
And Igni-i-i-ite your bones,


From his front shirt pocket he pulls out a small drink straw offering it to Brooke

And I will try, to fix you.
 
Logan had missed this. The feeling of working with other musicians and experimenting. Each song, he tried out new tones and styles. He shuffled through his influences, trying out different ones to see what would fit. Bruce Springsteen, Steve Perry, Billy Gibbons, Seal, Peter Gabriel, Tom Petty, Steve Winwood, Jeff Lynn, John Lennon, Brad Delp, David Bowie... When they finally finished the set with Queen, he decided to go an unorthodox route and instead of emulating Freddie Mercury imagine how Ronnie James Dio would sing it. Logan's baritone turned into a gritty, melodramatic call for action.

Tara went off to get drinks before Logan could object. He didn't even like alcohol that much, but at the same time he didn't want to be That Guy. He was in too good a mood to screw up the good vibes, so he decided he'd just bring it up later. He viewed the shot she brought back with some trepidation before finally knocking it back. His whole face screwed up against the burn mixing with the vanilla and lemon-lime flavors. Once he got it down his throat, he snorted through his nose and gave his head a shake. He could feel it burning on the way down and glanced at his table to see his food and a refill on his drink arriving. He wanted to get that water in a hurry. His protectiveness of his voice bordered on the paranoid at times.

As Tara left, he turned to Nate. "You've got talent. Do you mind some constructive feedback? Imagine your whole body is a tuning fork. The note starts in the core of resonance, but let it spread through your whole body." It was one of the techniques that had given Logan his range and tone. Every note he sang he could feel originate at the core of resonance, but the vibrations spread from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. It was a unique sensation that opened up his voice and made everything feel possible.

He was about to turn to leave when he spotted a napkin with some scribbling on it sitting on the piano. Logan's curiosity got the better of him and leaned in to see the writing.

Heard you are looking for roommates. Need a place to live. Will sell my soul and first born. Talk to me after the set.

- Sid <3


Logan arched a brow at that. An idea was already forming in his mind. Roommates. Plural. If it were just one, then whoever Sid was would have dibs. But if it was multiple, he might have a chance. Was this a sign that it was time to stop wandering aimlessly? He went back to his table and worked on his dinner as he thought about what to do. By the time the check had arrived, he made up his mind. He left payment in cash, plus a generous tip. Money may have been tight, but Logan always tipped well. Especially now that he was a regular.

He took his guitar case and strolled up to the bar, taking a seat the moment someone left theirs. Within two seconds, he already looked so comfortable where he was it was as if he had been there all along. Where ever Logan was, that was where he wanted to be. He tipped his hat back and smiled softly, waiting for Tara to walk by.
 
Ryan was enjoying his nice off, even though it was at where he worked. He hadn't quite planned on staying as long as he was. He gave a shook of his head for a moment as Mr. Quinn passed by him, suggested an offer of overtime. Though it was probably luck that he stayed as long as he did.

Ryan was about to take a drink of water when the customer next to him went down to the floor. He had heard the two arguing over who was suppose to foot the bill, he didn't think it was that big of a deal to get mad over. It took a moment for him to put the glass of water down, pushing his chair back. He grabbed the arm of the one who had thrown the punch, forcing it up and back behind his back as he used his thumb to apply pressure to the man's wrist. He used his other hand to push the man down on the bar among the dishes and food.

"Alright buddy, take it easy. Mr. Quinn isn't going to like you disturbing the other customers like this."

The second man picked himself up, holding his nose. The man grabbed some napkins and held them beneath his nose to staunch the bleeding. Getting a nod from the injured man, Ryan turned back to the one beneath him. The drunk man tried to wiggle out, but Ryan just applied pressure on both his back and wrist.

"Now pay your bill and get out. Try anything funny and it won't be just a little bit of pain on wrist."

Ryan stepped back slowly releasing the drunk. The drunk stumbled a little before catching himself, his front covered with food. Fumbling with his wallet, the drunk laid a bunch of cash out while Ryan looked to his friend.

"Take this guy home."

"S..Sure."

Ryan gave a little smirk as he watched the two go through the crowd, heading out the door before retaking his seat.
 
Tags: BROOKE, SID. Indirectly: BRIAN, TARA

Do you really expect I’ll slack off? thought Rhys as Mr. Quinn gave out his parting orders before leaving for the night. He quickly untied his apron and retied it tighter as if to say “once more unto the breach.”

He was fully in automatic mode. Chopping and grilling, dicing and stirring, when BROOKE walked swiftly into the kitchen. He saw her let out a sigh and seem to relax a little. the blonde worked far too hard, harder than any other employee in Rhys’ opinion. He involuntarily smiled at the small respite his kitchen offered the woman. All to soon she disappeared back into the restaurant proper leaving a small empty feeling in the pit of Rhys’ gut.

He turned to SID. “Can you reach the jar of chipotles for me?” Noticing a slightly weeping band-aid on SID’s knuckle he wondered a bit sheepishly what to say. “Did you cut yourself SID? I should really be more diligent in keeping the knives sharpened. Culinary Arts 101: a sharp knife is a safe knife.” He smiled a bit buffoonishly.

Rhys was far too busy to await a reply and kept cooking up a storm. A few college kids had come in from the nearby concert and seemed to be playing “stump the chef.” Though Quinn’s freezer and pantry couldn’t cope with most of the hipster kids’ orders Rhys was determined to at least put out a mean coq au vin.

“I hope the night gets over with soon” he thought. He still had work to do when he hung up his apron, having volunteered to clean after closing, but he looked forward to unwinding a little. Maybe he could even get a rum and coke out of BRIAN or TARA
 
Tags: Tara, Logan

Nate smiled lightly at the applause, even if he preferred to just keep playing. Accolades were nice, money was nicer, and jamming with Tara was even better. Still, it was about to get taken to another level as Logan ambled up onto the stage, his aura seeming somewhat tentative as he spoke.

"You guys know Solsbury Hill?"

Nathaniel's only response - after a quick look at Tara - was to break into the song's opening chords, hoping she'd be able to follow along. Which she did after counting herself in, and the beat was on, the crowd seeming to like what they were playing. Nate wasn't a slacker, and felt he was a pretty good singer, but Logan's range and control - wow. Still, Nate did his part, staying in the background and throwing in background vocals where he needed to. Logan was leading, and lead he did.

To hell with a jam session. The guy should've been an opera singer.

There were a few bumps along the way - one noticeably when neither Logan or Nate took the reins of singing and then they both did - but he welcomed the short break between 'sets', and the shots bought for him (which he took in the spirit of it, plus he was fairly certain Tara would jam it down his throat herself if he didn't). Tara's generosity was most welcome, especially when Nate knew he wasn't getting paid for it.

At least he thought not. After what he thought was a rather questionable rendition of 'We Will Rock You' (where he did little more then slap his guitar in time with the song), the crowd ate it up, reminding Nate of the first rule of showmanship: give the people what they want.

Another nod to the folks in the bar, as Tara turned to them.

"I really appreciate this guys. I know it's not a good idea to play for free when it's how you make a living. You two split the tips. It's all yours. If either of you are interested, let's plan to play together. I would love to do that."

She spun away before he could respond, and he turned, the slight smile still on his face, his eyes saying it for him. Three ways? But apparently the reclusive singer had his own agenda.

"You've got talent. Do you mind some constructive feedback? Imagine your whole body is a tuning fork. The note starts in the core of resonance, but let it spread through your whole body."

He nodded, taking in the tip even as he responded. "I can tell that's how you sing, Logan. It's more of a..." Nate frowned, trying to find the word. "...classical style. If its hasn't been made obvious by now, I'm not that guy." A self deprecating smile lit his face. "Besides, if I can't sing that way, there's more for you, right?"

"I appreciate the tip, all the same. If I think I can make it work and still sound like I do, well..." He stopped, not sure how much further he wanted to try to debate it with someone who should probably be making more money then he was doing this.

Nate took a look at the bucket. "We're splitting that three ways, right? We should make sure Tara gets her due." He tried to look around for the spunky bartender and singer, but could not find her. "At any rate, I'll take my...third...and be off. I'm sure someone will pass it on to her."

Even so, Nate knew that Tara deserved more of it, as he took his time packing his guitars, bringing them out to his car. Giving another long look back, he slammed the trunk on his car and pulled away from Quinn's, feeling a little saddened at driving away for what he thought was going to be the last time for a few days; he had a gig somewhere else tomorrow and he'd really enjoyed this evening. More then he had in a while.

Little did he know, fate was about to intervene. Or, more to the point, already had, to bring him back here sooner.
 
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Dusk placed her shot glass on the rubber drip mat that lined the bartender's side of the bar, preparing to load her drinks onto her tray. In her peripheral vision, she suddenly became aware of a hand, and then an arm, reaching between her and Avery. A short glance back ensured that it was Jesse. As he had every right to compete for a space, Dusk moved what little she could and hurried to gather her drinks so she could be out of the way.

The crowd was getting ridiculous. Someone must've bumped Jesse; the energy transferred to him colliding with her back unexpectedly. The brunette nearly spilled a drink. She recovered, but even as the glass was secured she remained tense. Another bump, in which what Dusk assumed to be the hardness of his hip pressed into her lower back.

She felt her throat start to tighten. It wasn't Jesse, or even the strangers that swarmed around her, but the unease of being surrounded. A sudden flux of traffic in front of the bar felt like it had been designed to restrict her movement; and not in a way which was merely inconvenient, but which was terrifying. She closed her eyes briefly and took a breath, her hands gripping at the edges of her tray. It wouldn't be too long until it cleared enough for her to escape, upon which moment everything would be fine again. Once free, she'd make her way towards the patio, the fresh air furthering to soothe her claustrophobia.

She hadn't had a panic attack from it since her youth and ordinarily her job didn't bring it out in her. Even on crowded nights, Dusk seemed more than capable of dexterously navigating through the waves of people, unaffected because she didn't often get pressed in a corner. The bar only became such when the majority of the servers arrived at the same time for their drink orders, with the crowd filling their reserved pick-up space tightly on either side.

Her pulse remained elevated but she pushed her mind to focus on the task at hand. It was meditative, to just focus on the job, with the benefit of the amazing trio of musician's music to drown out any lingering anxiety.

Time blurred until Brooke gave her the official word on closing the patio. Dusk gave her an acknowledging nod and turned on her heel, feeling a stab of guilt again for having stolen Logan's table from her section; he had tipped really well. She'd have to remember to apologize later, when they were both less busy, and pick up as much of Brooke's side work as she could to make up for it.

Sophia had seated the patio accordingly, so clearing it out wasn't too difficult of a task. The guests had all finished eating and those that were still enjoying their drinks were invited to continue indulging at the bar.

Dusk locked the patio as she came inside and hung a tastefully designed sign that denied customers access before turning to look at the remaining volume of the restaurant. It was certainly busy enough for her to stay on the clock, it seemed, but of course she'd check with Brooke.

An altercation broke out at the bar; one customer punched another square in the nose. In the time it took Dusk to wince in reaction, Ryan was in control of the situation. Watching the event as it continued to unfold, she made her way towards Brooke, who stood just steps outside of the kitchen. Once the commotion was no longer a sight, Dusk placed a hand on the other woman's shoulder to draw her attention.

"You want me to stay on? I can take over your section or just steal a few more tables, if you'd like." She smiled. "Sorry about that, by the way. In regards to Logan."
 
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Avery couldn't stop the small smile that pulled at her lips as Jesse half-teasingly asked her to dump a drink on the blonde from the cougar table.

"Maybe I will." She responded with a playful wink - where had that come from? - before downing the shot that Brian had placed in front of her. For some reason, and despite the buffoons at her four top, Avery was having an enjoyable night. Things seemed to be falling into place for her for once in her miserable life and Avery would enjoy it while it lasted.

Quinn's was quickly filling up as the concert let out and Avery rushed about, careful to attend each of her tables as quickly and efficiently as possible. Thankfully, the men that had been harassing her earlier had filtered out of the restaurant some time ago, leaving her with mostly hipster wannabes to tend to. Though, if she'd known had demanding the hipsters would be, Avery would have gratefully taken back the drunk business men.

"Hey, lady, I wanted non-fat vinaigrette on the side of my salad." A boy, barely eighteen, with a gray beanie covering his carefully disheveled hair and jeans that were so tight Avery was fairly certain he would never be able to pro-create (which was probably a good thing) snapped at her.

"So sorry, about that." Avery bit back the retort that was right on the tip of her tongue. Better not to piss off the clientele lest they get the bright idea to post some lame ass comment on Tweeter...or whatever the hell it was called. Avery was too busy raising a kid and putting a roof over his head to care about all this social media hype.

"I'll get you another salad right away." She grabbed his plate and made her way to the kitchen before he could say anything else. Weaving through the tables, Avery was walking past the bar when two customers started throwing punches. Thankfully, Ryan - who didn't seem to have much else to do on his night off than show up at work for a drink - had the situation handled. Thankful that nothing had gotten so out of hand that the police needed to be called, Avery skirted past Brooke and Dusk with a smile and walked into the kitchen.

"Sid, Rhys, can I get a re-do on this salad?" She asked, her meek tone barely audible over the din of pots and pans. Running a hand over her ponytail, Avery leaned up against the metal counter top of the prep station. Her feet and back ached and all she could think about was getting the night over with. But once they closed, she had still volunteered to help with clean up, which meant her night wouldn't be over for quite some time.

Even when she got back to the motel room, sleep would be a long way off. No doubt she would spend time tossing and turning on the lumpy mattress, that one blasted spring digging into her spine. And her mind would drift to Dean, as it did every night when she closed her eyes, and his image would be prevalent in every dream...rather nightmare that night. Which would mean she'd wake up more tired than when she went to bed then she'd have to repeat the whole damned cycle all over again.

After a few minutes, with the fresh salad in her hand, Avery made her way back out into the dining room.

"Here you go," she placed the salad in front of the complaining customer, "non-fat vinaigrette on the side." She didn't bother to tell him that the dressing was the same as had been on his previous salad. Avery-1. Smart-ass with the ironic glasses and suspenders - 0. It was the small victories that mattered to Avery.

Spotting Tara at the bar, Avery wove a path through the tables, desperate to speak with her about her announcement earlier.

"Tara, can I get two house ales, rum and coke, and," she glanced at the drink order in her hand and blushed, "and a screaming orgasm." She could feel her cheeks burning as her co-workers around the bar turned to glance at her.

Before anyone could say anything, Avery quickly blurted out, "Oh, about that house, church, whatever it is, if you have room available still I'd be interested."
 
Tara Seong

Tara was joking with a regular as she finished delivering a round of Kamikaze shots when she heard Avery put an order in. She grinned at the blushing woman as she put filled the order with nimble hands. The question about the Church captured her attention. Running on a performance high, the upbeat crowd and the dash of adrenaline from the near bar brawl had Tara totally jazzed. She couldn't help but spread her joy and energy around. It's a good state to be in for a busy night. Tara picked up the tray, poked Brian's chest as she dodged his grope and made her way over to Avery.

"Are you looking for a room? Cause I have a house with several rooms available that I would like to rent out. It's a renovated church. That's why I'm calling it the Church until inspiration hits with a better name for the place. It's crazy right now. Catch me after work and I would love to talk to you about it." She handed the tray to Avery. "Actually, hold on a second. You should join the guys for a shot before you head back on the floor."

Tara mixed Bailey's Irish cream and amaretto almond liqueurs together, poured out four shots and topped each one with whipped cream. She handed one to Avery with a wink. "Have one, it's tasty. Now for the funny part." Tara dropped a shot in front of Logan, Ryan and Brian. "Alright, gentleman! Which one of you is brave enough to take down a Blowjob the right way? No hands!"
 
He watched Tara and Avery speak. He couldn't quite hear over the din of the restaurant, but something caused the waitress to turn bright red. Before Logan could say a word, Tara put down a shot in front of him and two others. He looked down at the shot without moving his head and looked back up at Tara. Slowly extending one hand, he gently pushed the glass away. "Now would be a good time to tell you I don't drink. That shot I took on stage was just to be polite." Logan didn't even miss alcohol anymore. It had been so long without it that the shot he had taken on stage actually struck him as tasting uniquely terrible. All he could think of was wanting another water to wash the taste out. He wanted something though, so he made sure none of his distaste for booze crept into either his words or his face.

"I'm more interested in this rumor going around from... someone named Sid? Word is you're looking for roommates." He didn't speak beyond that. He just sat there, arms crossed in front of him and leaning on the bar, his eyes fixed on Tara's and waiting with a stony patience for her response. Among all the activity and noise of the restaurant, he was the only person who didn't raise his voice or fidget or anything. He even seemed to blink in slow motion. There was a possibility that the ship had sailed on an open room. If that were the case... well he was still crashing with Ray for now. Maybe he'd leave town and find somewhere else. Maybe he'd stick around and give Seattle a shot. He hadn't really thought that far ahead yet. He was just waiting to see what Tara would say first.
 
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Brooke Bailey.

After venting in the kitchen, Brooke didn't get very far before she heard someone singing,

When you try your best and you don't succeed.
When you get what you want and not what you need.


Brooke stopped walking, and spun on her heels. Those pretty blue eyes of hers glared upon Brian, knowing the game he was playing. He'd seen how annoyed she'd been! And now he was trying to push buttons. That voice of his? Not the best. She'd never heard him sing before, not like this. Even if it was still a little hard to hear with the music still going on, and the loud voices inside the small restaurant.

Brian opened his arms wider, and sang louder. There were tables and people around them who turned to stare, and Brooke really couldn't help her blush as he got down on one knee. God, she hoped no one thought that he was proposing! Especially as he reached into his pocket, and she thought she heard someone behind her gasp. But instead of a ring, he pulled out a straw.

Yes, he had definitely heard her vent earlier, and was using it against her.

And despite how tired Brooke was at hearing Coldplay tonight, she wanted to laugh. Shaking her head, she just pursed her lips to hold that laughter in and keep it from escaping. That would only encourage the troublesome bartender.

Taking the straw, Brooke eyed him, looking down at him.

"Will you get up? Because are starting to think you're proposing. And I really hope you know I do plan on stabbing you with this." She threatened, holding that straw out before placing it in her apron with the others. "Just when you least expect it." She added, and waited for him to finally stand again. When he did, that's when she started to laugh.

Before she could say much else, she spun her head around, whipping that blonde ponytail as she glanced behind her to see the fight taking place at the bar. "See what happens when you leave your post?" She teased Brian, and luckily Ryan was closeby to diffuse the situation. She'd have to remember to thank him later. He had avoided any of them having to call the cops, or explaining to James tomorrow.

Brooke glanced down at her watch, it was a half hour until closing. "In a little bit, I'm going to let Sofia know when to stop seating people. Do you think that you and Tara can make a last call in about 20 minutes?" She asked Brian, though she knew that he knew the drill. This wasn't their first rodeo.

After leaving Brian, before Brooke could really return to work, someone had placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to see Dusk's smiling face.

"Everything okay?" She asked, automatically coming to the conclusion that the new girl was having a hard time keeping up. Even if Brooke could see that she had manged to close up the patio already. Good girl.

You want me to stay on? I can take over your section or just steal a few more tables, if you'd like. Sorry about that, by the way. In regards to Logan."

Brooke shrugged, acting as if it didn't bother her. But her answer hinted otherwise.

"You can stay, but no, you can't steal any more of my tables." She answered, not too pissed off about it, but Dusk had approached her after a very stressful, hectic night. Brian had helped lighten her mood and bring back her usual cheery self, but Dusk's reminder of taking one of her tables set her back a step again. "You need to remember to stay in your zone. You don't see anyone else jumping in at your tables, do you? I don't mind the help, and I know you meant well, but I had it handled." Brooke sighed, realizing that she might be a little too harsh on the new waitress. Shit. She hoped that Dusk wasn't sensitive and took it the wrong way. She really was just giving her advice to help her not piss of other employees in the future that really would appreciate what she'd done.

"If you really want to stay late, you can. While I finish clearing the customers in my area, I would suggest you help the busers clean up. I think Ethan is the only one washing right now, so he could really use your help bringing the dishes in there. Ask Joe if you need help." Brooke looked around, suddenly remembering that he was around here somewhere. She'd have to remember to ask him if he wanted to hang out and drink with the staff later.
 
Brian Pulaski

Wouldn't you know it. He steps away to get in one good joke on Brooke and shit happens. Ryan was there to handle it, but when a fight breaks out you know that the feel of the room torques. He agreed with Brooke to give last call in 20, but he wish that it would be now. Some of the customers who don't have the stomach for conflict head towards the door pretty quick, so you get tied up running cards and cashing out. Some of them are too loaded to notice, so they end up getting louder and more annoying. A fight also riles up the douche bags, so you see an awful lot more guys trying to inadvertently flex, say hi to complete strangers, or order while calling him and Tara names that they make up on the spot to seem like long lost friends. The tables were dying off, which is good for the wait staff and helps with the work load, but the bar always lags behind. It's not always like this, but when it does get like this it is the worst time to be a bartender.

In the past, he would just grind his way through this. His little notes, and games, and shots rolled out the the other staff tends to stop -- and he would just do what he can to not piss off any customers. Tara, though, kept up her energy. She remained personable, blunt, and quick. He watched her work in that tight jeans while washing up some of the runners. When she whipped out a blow job, he felt a smile and a step come back to him, still he was beat to the punch.

"Joe! Dude! You pull that again and I am telling the old man you're good with your mouth." He stepped over by the others, sliding a hand around to Tara's back. "When did you get here, anyway? Are you even legal to drink that?" He gave Tara another pat on her small bottom letting his hand linger there for a bit, then started to clean right around this group.

He needed these people to finish out the night, needed to have this release. Even if they ignored the drinkers behind them for a little while longer. When Avery walked by, Brian knew he was back to his old self when he called out. "Hey Avery, I saw Tara gave you a screaming orgasm. How was it? You think you'll call her in the morning?"

Just as he felt that this night could end without any more hitches, the bar called. Specifically, a toe headed buzz cut jackass who felt he needed one more drink, but he wanted it from Tara. "Hey Chopsticks. Ching Chong. Pokemon. Can I get a beer here?"

Brian walked right up to the guy and said, "Nope. You're done, asshole. Out!"

"What?" the douche griped.

"You heard me, you're done. In fact," Brian clapped his hands and raised his hands above his head yelling, "LAST CALL. You Don't Have To Go Home But You Can't Stay Here."
 
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Dusk gave Brooke a nod. "Of course, I'll be more mindful next time. My bad." She patted the other woman's shoulder before withdrawing her hand. "I'll get to clearing tables right away." The faster they finished clean up, the faster they could have some post-closing drinks and leave, so the brunette was more than happy to work towards that end.

Just then the owners' son started to clear the table next to them, saying hello to the head waitress. He introduced himself for the new girl's benefit; while she had been present at the meeting, the mash of employees in the hot kitchen had made it difficult for her to focus, and so she was glad to be reminded of his name. "Hi, Joe!" Dusk returned happily. "I'm Dusk." She offered her hand for a shake, giving a small laugh in response to Joe's joke. "Chris Martin? Oh, dammit it...you just taught me one of their names!" she teased with a wide grin. She wasn't familiar with Coldplay, at least not beyond having a basic recognition because of the band's popularity. No doubt she'd heard a song or two of theirs, at some point. Probably not on purpose. "In any case...nice to meet you formally, Joe." She gave a short bow of her head.

Dusk looked at Brooke. "Okay, back to work!"

She turned on her heel, heading off to grab a dish tub. She glanced at the stairwell and the balcony above it. Well. Might as well get a bit of a workout, the night was almost over. And so Dusk headed to clear the tables in Jesse's section first. After hauling several tubs down to the kitchen, she helped with what remained on the main floor.

Brian made the announcement of last call, his voice booming over the dwindling crowd. Dusk smiled. It had been a long one; she had been on shift since lunch. Still, she'd power through the last of the cleaning and side work with everyone else, without complaint. Knowing that she was so close to going home gave her a second wind of energy, inspiring the brunette to bust ass to finish the night out.

Yes, the drinks would taste wonderful tonight. The woman just needed to remember to moderate herself...
 
Rhys Blackwood
Tags: SID, BROOKE Indirectly: TARA, BRIAN



As the night wound to a close SID seemed to decide that the kitchen should close. Rhys could see how weary she was and her eyes spoke volumes, just exactly what those volumes contained was anyone’s guess. Rhys was certainly no armchair psychologist but he had a knack for reading people. With the line-cook his empathic skills seemed to always fail him.

SID practically bit his head off when he apologized for potentially causing the petite woman’s cut. Why does she just keep getting gruffer the nicer I am to her? he thought. She’s fiercely independent, maybe I’m insulting her and implying she needs to be treated with kit gloves.

One thing Rhys DID notice was how downright nasty she was with BROOKE, but only, it seemed, when he was around too. He just didn’t get it. If he didn’t know SID better he’d think she was jealous of the blonde. Not that she need be. BROOKE was more voluptuous and the thought of her sent a pang through Rhys’ heart and made his palms a bit damp but SID was gorgeous. That teal hair, that sure take-no-shit attitude, THAT is a woman, He thought.

Rhys’ own train of thought had him confused and a bit down. He heard BRIAN call out “closing time” and SID scuttled to clean up her station and put her knives and other cooking tools away. Rhys was about to ask if she needed a hand when she dashed out, she seemed to need a recharge if she would make it through the after-hours cleaning job. I should keep my damn mouth shut anyway.

Jose needed quite a bit of help closing down the kitchen and Rhys more or less hovered behind him fixing or redoing everything the man did. In a flurry of energy Rhys managed to finish his work, and Jose’s, and lock up the freezer and take closing inventory.

Rhys rushed to catch up with his co-workers all apparently tying one on at the bar before hunkering in to get the restaurant sparkling to Mr. Quinn’s standards. He waved to TARA and walked up to SID. Glancing at BROOKE he heaved a quick sigh and said “Hey Ms. Seong, how about a Dirty Birdie for the hardest working line-cook I know?”

Smiling a bit sheepishly Rhys handed SID a radish meticulously cut into a rose. “Just a little token SID Justice, next time I say something dumb please feel free to slap me upside the head.”

What the fuck? he thought. If SID decides my jaw makes a better punching bag than the brick wall outside I might win a sympathy point or two with BROOKE. Besides, it’s not like I have to work with SID day in and day out anyway right?
 
Ryan took a few moments to get himself together, trying to bring his adrenaline down. He wasn't one to get into fights much anymore, but they always gave him a rush. Though he still enjoyed a good bout every now and then, he had to be careful not to hurt anyone. A thought of asking Mr. Quinn for the possibility of acting as a bouncer to keep the rowdies down, he pushed it aside since the fights didn't happen often. He also figured Mr. Quinn wouldn't want to spend the extra money for covering any sort of insurance that would be needed.

Getting drunk wasn't going to be a problem for him, since he had developed a high tolerance for it. He felt a tingle of a buzz, but he would need a few more shots before getting a true buzz. Actually he was becoming more hungry than thirsty, wondering if he should put the order in yet. Since the bar was still busy, he decided not, turning his attention to the bar tv.

His attention was taken for a moment by Avery as she ordered the screaming orgasm. He gave a little smile, the blush on her face only adding to her style of beauty. She had been there less time than he had been, but she seemed to have taken to the job quite well. He talked to her her on occasion, but it was mostly just short bursts of small talk.

His thoughts were interrupted by Tara placing fours shots on the bar top, one in front of him. He gave a little smirk for a moment at the petite beauty's little challenge.

"If I don't know any better, I would say someone was trying to get me drunk."

He met Tara's challenge by leaning down towards the glass. He gripped the lip of the glass between his teeth and leaned back, downing the alcohol. He put the glass down upside down on the bar as Joe made the comment about being his only blowjob. He shook his head for a moment.

"You never know Joe, you might get luckier than you think."

He grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth as Brian yelled out for last call. He grabbed an untouched roll from one of the baskets that a customer had left, munching on it. He had finished the roll by the time Sid emerged from the kitchen to join them at the bar. He didn't say anything to her at this point in time, deciding to give her a little breathing room for the time being.

His mind wandered to the nickname she had given him, wondering about it's origin. After all, he didn't think he even resembled what he thought a doughboy should look like. After all, there was little to no fat on his well-formed body. It was something he should probably ask her sometime, but not yet. He raised an eyebrow for a moment when Rhys came out to the bar with a rose cut radish. He had to admit it was original, which was probably going to score him a point or two.

He just gave a little smirk for a moment as he watched to see how Sin reacted.
 
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