Chapter Text
Well, here was something to cross off on the bucket list.
Being an unqualified bartender, tick.
It had been a quiet evening, the sun had just set, leaving an array of blues and purples in it's wake. KD, who had been travelling for a considerate amount of time, arrived at what looked to be diner or perhaps a bar. An interesting choice of establishment for a Petrian highway pitstop.
Anyhow, the the brown-haired girl, could feel her germophobic side clambering to be let loose at the thought of running water. Honestly, she felt like she could 100 percent say, she was definitely taking care of herself much better than half the teens in the country. Appearance without a doubt played a large part in it, looking like a normal traveller gained her kudos, as people happened to always be coincidentally looking for a decent non-runaway to do paid odd jobs.
Plus stealing cars more often meant she could take care of herself with a somewhat roof over her head. (She could already hear the congratulations of Stan and Mitch…)
At this time, KD had been walking in the cool evening, approaching the bar. There was only one place in Road 96 that had a encounter in a bar, but she could always pray that since she was literally in Petria, there was more than one bar.
However, luck never really seemed to favour her all that much.
Pushing open the doors, KD strode in, only stopping near the counter and feeling a sinking feeling a she heard a man yelling at his phone.
Yeah, God definitely forgot to dish out the luck for her. At least she got brains, at the very least.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T MAKE IT?! FIRST THE DISHWASHER, AND NOW YOU TOO? " He ended the call abruptly rubbing his nose and muttering numerous profanities. "Where am I even gonna find someone…"
There's my cue, how utterly exciting, thought KD, somewhat sarcastic. It wasn't like she didn't like him (she was totally normal about him, promise) but there was an undercurrent of fear coursing through her.
Not even she was as blind to see the risks.
She entered the warmly-lit bar, hanging back as she watched the increasingly frustrated owner aggressively slam the 'end call' button on his phone, which looked like those medieval flip phones. Jesus, guess it really is the good ole 96's. The bald man rubbed his head tiredly. A woman in a cap called over to him, seemingly a regular.
"Take a break, Joe! You look pissed off."
"SCREW YOU DEBBIE!"
Trying to look casual, KD strolled towards the counter, looking around curiously like she wasn't waiting for her job offer. Snapping his head up quickly, the large bald man stared at her with wide eyes like she had literally parted the sea. Stumbling over his words, he called out to her.
"Hey! You, kid, girl, whatever, I don't care how old you are- In fact, I couldn't care if you were a goddamn fetus! Want to make some cash? My bartender just bailed, and I need someone to fill in!"
Boy, he was desperate. She felt pity for him, but also herself as well, less for… him and more for the job she was about to undertake. Drunk people screaming for their drinks was a lot more terrifying for her anxiety, thank you very much.
Waving away the man's strange shades, she accepted graciously of course. "Sure, sure man, no problem, I can take care of it."
If not for the counter separating them, KD thinks the manager very well might have tackled her into a hug, blubbering many thanks and something about having to clean dishes in the back, before lumbering off.
It was still early on in the night, the sun having only just set, and there was still a calm atmosphere in the bar, a quiet rumble of chatter being the only sound in the place as KD slipped behind the barely occupied counter.
Thank God there was so uniform, other than a rather cute black laced apron and having to have her hair back, but it was already in plait down her back, with her bangs hanging around her face, so no issues there.
According to the people ordering their third and fourth rounds, the night was still young, and more rowdy customers began to enter. KD wondered if having never been in a bar in any world or drinking would affect her ability for this job. While not drinking alcohol was part of her own religion and ideologies, she just never found it or a bar's atmosphere appealing in truthfulness.
Customers filed into seating wherever possibly, the seats at the counter quickly welcoming occupied. Warm orange light lit up the establishment, giving it an almost cosy feel, if not for the current crowd occupying it. As KD took up a default position on leaning against one of the glass-filled cupboards observing the scene, orders from increasingly loud people were yelling in her direction.
"Hey, bartender, bring me some Motherland Spirit, and make it quick!"
"I want some Good Swallow over here, please!"
"Girl, make yourself useful and serve me some Nation Potion!"
Mixing wasn't too difficult, just adding drinks to cups with special orders of the wall if desired. However, serving was more irritating if anything else.
KD quietly mixed and poured drinks, attempting to ignore the people's sneering looks and attempts at riling her up, although the last comment made her narrow her eyes at the older man who looked disdainfully at her.
What was his problem? Throughout the evening as she prepared orders as flawlessly as someone with zero experience could, that particular male sat in a corner with a gaggle of younger leering men making small snide comments towards her every time she passed by.
"Did you see her, lads? Now that's one who'd be easy, if you catch my drift."
"Women like those are a catch, boys, make sure to get an eyeful."
"Ha, she looks so desperate. Which one of you boys wants to go and mess with her?"
Every time the ringleader made a comment, his small group of younger men let out a cheer, or worse, catcall. No doubt he was a bad influence. It made her lip curl in disgust, but also made her want to cower under their predatory eyes. If this continued, she would get Joe (the manager's name she found out after inquiry, despite his hard exterior he was a sweetheart to her) to throw them out. It was quite frankly terrifying for her.
Not to mention, the other customers had started to become more lively, having now consumed alcohol, more yelled orders being thrown her way. By the way her hands were beginning to slightly tremble, it was becoming a bit too stressful. The judgemental stares were beginning to choke her a bit.
Without warning the doors slammed open to the bar, a hush immediately fell over the establishment.
Oh.
Oh.
In all her worrying, she had forgot about a particular person. Someone who she loved a lot, but also perhaps was downright petrified by. And to top it off, he looked like a good-looking noir film protagonist.
Ah, yes. Jarod.
The man strode towards the counter directly in front of KD, who was slightly dumbstruck from seeing someone she knew so well from across the screen, in person, and he sat himself down on one of the bar stools, any customers previously sitting on the counter seats immediately clearing out.
That just left her and Jarod.
She swallowed, watching as the man in a trench coat and fedora slowly lit another cigarette, before taking a deep drag, like it was his source of oxygen.
After a moment, Jarod spoke without looking up.
"Give me my usual." He drawled in his deep, gravelly chain-smoker voice, letting out a puff of smoke languidly.
Good God the iconic voice. KD sprang into action as soon as the words left his mouth, trailing over to the wall to glance at the mix (aptly named 'The Jarod') before quickly gathering the various alcoholic beverages. Constantly stealing glances back at Jarod, she poured one part of Good Swallow, Motherland Spirits and Heartland Refreshment, before giving the flask a vigorous shake, earning a strange look from the few stragglers left in the bar… Apart from that irritating group of men in the corner snickering at her. She didn't understand people like them. Returning to Jarod, she numbly wondered if it was because she was a woman or her skin tone, or something just as pretentious.
But enough of them, she turned her attention back to the poor man in front of her. It was near Lola's anniversary after all, he never resolved that deep grief inside him. Something in her wanted to hug him and sympathise with him quite desperately, but she stuffed that back into whatever emotional part of her it came from.
Gently placing down the drink in front of her, she shuffled back to her original position by the cupboard, trying to not glance back at Jarod too often, but seeing as he had scared most people off, there wasn't much else to observe.
Jarod surprised her for the first time that evening by lifting his head up to lock eyes with KD, who was unintentionally staring, and simply said, "It's good." With his usual monotone voice.
It was slightly shocking even more, when he silently swirled his drink while keeping his intense stare on her without explanation, nor did she ask for one, partly out of fear.
Soon enough, his cup was empty and more and more rounds were ordered. Jarrod chugged them down like a starving man, and KD prayed for his liver that he didn't do this often.
For some unknown reason, his eyes remained solely on her, sometimes they'd become glazed, while others they would drill into her while she was making another drink, burning holes into the side of her head. KD felt her skin beginning to crawl and started anxiously fiddling with her hair. Was there something on her face? Was the drink actually terrible? Oh God… He wasn't thinking about murdering her, was he? She prayed not.
After a countless amount of drinks, Jarod still seemed to be holding up very well. And by that KD mean he was sitting silently smoking looking absolutely sober.
And then he did something absolutely gob-smacking.
Jarod started conversation with her.
"You look young for this job." He was resting his head on his propped up arm, gazing at her, his dark eyes piercing her very soul.
Never mind, she takes it back, he must be flat out drunk to be initiating conversation with her of all people.
Eyes widening, KD let a small yet slightly panicked smile rest on her face, "Just for today, Joe in the back needed a bartender and pay was good." And I knew you were here, she neglected to add on.
"Hm." He went back to swirling his drink, eyes distant.
Hoping she didn't sound intrusive, she tried slowly. "Bad day, huh?"
The taxi driver's dark eyes flickered over to her briefly. His voice was barely above a whisper, mumbling something about 'past troubles'.
In that moment, the small boxy television blasted out the tune for the GNN channel, more specifically, The Sonya Show. Just her luck.
Upon hearing the obnoxious news reporters voice, Jarod growled out something that sounds vaguely violent, bashing his fist on the counter, irritated. In his stupor, he saw his young bartender try and fail to resist flinching, quickly swallowing her scolding. Her mouth had opened, only to snap shut as the taxi driver levelled a decimating glare at her. His gaze trailed on her neck, watching her swallow, before she spoke up hesitantly.
"Do you do this often?"
At her reference to 'this', this drinking and chain-smoking, he gave her a sharp look look, as if to say, 'Do you really want to judge me?' Quickly backtracking, KD shook her head rapidly gesturing wildly, Nono, I don't mean- I meant today! Ah- like this specific date? Oh course you don't have to answer-"
Resting his head against the counter, he cut her off, mumbling in his gravelly voice "Ten year commemoration of the victims of 86'."
The hidden grief in his voice was blatantly obvious, however sober his demeanour, KD blamed on the alcohol. After a heavy pause, he continued on barely looking for her reaction, but perhaps consolation, "The attack took my daughter. Those rocks took my sweet daughter. She would've been 26 this year."
"She was so young…" Jarod lifted his head slightly, searching her face, with an emotion KD couldn't place, but she ploughed own, prepared to say her part. "I'm sure she was a good person. She would be proud to see how much you care about her."
The man in the fedora stared at his cigarette absent-mindedly, absorbing her speech. Slowly, he lifted his head, locking eyes with the coffee-haired girl. He slowly let out a puff of smoke before replying with a dull expression.
"Well, sometimes bad things happen to good people, don't they?" That could have sounded almost ominous, however the slight indecipherable crack of emotion in his voice made KD feel his grief.
They both lapsed into a comfortable silence. The taxi driver swirling his half-empty cup, watching the melting ice cubes in the orange liquid, while the chocolate-eyed girl had a soft expression on her features as she gazed as him while leaning against a shelf.
Just then, KD heard a small cheer and a scraping chair from the corner booth. The table of unbearable males had raised their glasses, cheering, hawk eyes intently fixed on her and one of the younger ones had just left his seat to begin to approach the counter .
He was a weasel-like man with gangly limbs, who's every nearing step made her stiffen.
Her current companion didn't stir at the incoming disturbance, barely bothering to flick his eyes towards the male, quickly returning them to his beverage.
KD made no move to prepare to serve the weasel-like man, her body as still as a statue. Perhaps, if she stayed still enough he wouldn't ruin her evening. Jarod, the ever perceptive, noted his bartender's change in demeanour, his brain toying with the idea of why she could being reacting like this.
The man finally arrived, leaning over the counter, just a bit too close for comfort (in Jarod's opinion). The male's face displayed a leering expression towards KD, the said girl leaning into the cupboard s much as one can do with a solid piece of wood.
"Hey there, babe-''
KD thought she was going to be sick. The man's rank breath could be smelled from the other side of the counter, his dull blue eyes trailed over her body greedily. It was so disgusting, the girl thought she could feel her hands becoming clammy. Her stomach clenched uncomfortably.
Giving her a once-over look, as if to say 'You'll do.', a sneer was plastered across his face. "You wanna get me a TLR? Make it snappy, I'm waiting." He then delivered a wink that could probably make a child cry.
Very uncomfortable at the prospect of leaving her back defenceless, KD reached behind her to grasp the dark-coloured bottle.. Nimbly pouring it into a glass, she tried to desperately avoid the man who's eyes were glued to her form, a cruel smirk smothered on his face. She haphazardly plastered a returning smirk on her lips, trying to be perceived as cruel. It come off more like an uncomfortable grimace.
Bringing the beverage towards the weasel, carefully placing the glass down, avoiding his contorted face no matter what. Suddenly, as she moved to turn away, his greasy paw shot up, grabbing her chin roughly without warning.
KD let out an alarmed yelp at being pulled forward over the counter, her face now close and level to the malicious male's face, her chocolate eyes darting nervously around looking for escape. Distantly, she could hear the cheers of a certain revolting group of men.
Sudden disgust and further worry and alarm flooded through her as she heard the man utter some dreaded words, as he licked his lips, "Hey babe, why don't you come with me and I'll-"
Abruptly, the bruising grip on her chin was removed, a startled shriek leaving he man who assaulted her.
Her vision quickly clearing of panic as she shook her head, KD gazed up to see what had just occurred.
Menacingly, without any sound, Jarod had a still harsh grip on the weasel-like man's neck, without even bothering to stand up. His cigarette was currently extinguished laying in the ashtray unattended, his glass still half full.
He had been disturbed.
The weasel was currently trembling pulling at Jarod's pale hands, whimpers escaping his lips. The atmosphere had frozen, any remaining bar-goers stared mildly panicked, somewhat entertained, with them being veterans of the establishment. The man's group had stopped their jeering and cheering, all of them turning knuckle-white at the prospect of who their target's protector was.
Staring with wide eyes at the scene unfolding before her, KD couldn't believe what she was seeing. Jarod? Saving her? And moreover- She had been assaulted by some disgusting guy? Her brain was being overloaded with information.
The man of the hour himself let out a 'tch' noise, kissing is teeth. The trembling male was beginning to turn blue under the taxi driver's hands. Jarod's eyes were dark and swirling, the rest of his expression devoid of emotion apart from his curling lip.
The tense silence stretched out eerily. The only sounds heard were the man's ragged breathing (or lack there-of) and the creaky aged jukebox playing a clashingly relaxed piano tune.
Staggering up from the ground, KD leant against the counter holding her head. Everything was still slightly dizzy and spinning. Only half coherent, the girl neared the taxi man, taking her chances by simply asking, "Let's... Maybe... Not?"
She couldn't really tell who's sake she was asking her, her own, Jarod's or the soon to be six-feet-under man.
Only sparing her a quick glance, upon seeing her glazed eyes and wobbly stature, Jarod's face quickly regained it's blank expression, throwing the weasel of a man harshly onto the floorboards.
With aggravation, he threw his cigarette near the male's feet crushing it to dust threateningly. The weasel whimpered, trying to shuffle away on his back.
Turning his back, Jarod began to walk back to the counter for his drink, brushing past the brown-haired girl, who had finally regained control over her breathing, as her chest had been jerkily screaming for air in the past minutes.
That would've been the end of it.
If it weren't her her assailant muttering bitterly, "That dumb bitch, this is all her fau-"
Abruptly stopping, Jarod stilled. He contemplated something, his fist clenching and unclenching. Without wasting anymore time, he strolled back over to the male who instantly began trembling again. His face was wiped of the bitterness of his situation, only terror in it's place at seeing the cold fury in the taxi drivers eyes, as Jarod grabbed him by the collar pulling him up and dragging him out of the bar's double doors, the weasel screaming profanities the entire time.
The slam echoed in the silent room for a few moments until-
"H-hey, we sent him right? Let's go stop him!"
"Yeah let's show that bastard!"
The irritating group of men the weasel belonged to stormed outside quickly slowing, to where the muffled screaming had suspiciously cut off. Passing the counter they threw scoffs and despising looks towards her. KD, now having a feel she knew what was going to occur outside, felt a vague detached sick feeling settle in her stomach like a stone.
She should go out.
She should.
She didn't.
She massaged her temples. A kind woman passed her a glass of water. She sat on a counter stool motionlessly. She could hear the commotion outside. (The cut-off screams.) She should go out. Should. Should stop it.
It.
(But she wouldn't. She knew that for certain.)
…Wouldn't?
Desperately plastering on a slightly more reassuring facial expression so her customers wouldn't treat her like a lost lamb or something alike, KD shuffled back over to the counter. Sitting, she calmed herself and took some deep breaths. This was fine. It was all good. All sunshine and rainbows here people, nothing to see.
She drilled her fingers monotonously on the wooden surface. KD flicked her eyes over nervously to the clock. She couldn't hear any further commotion. Should she…?
Soon enough, seeing as she apparently wasn't shaken AT ALL, the bar-goers quickly made their way back to calling orders rambunctiously. It was a good distraction really, stopped her from worrying about… Everything. At one point, the woman in the hat, a regular, asked if she was doing okay.
Nervous giggles erupted from KD without meaning to, "I'm fine really."
The woman had simply raised an eyebrow as KD brushed her off, before shrugging and wondering off.
Time ticked by, and before she knew it there was only an hour or two until closing. Practically everyone had cleared out, with the exception of one or two older people who sat, relaxed and slurred in speech.
A decidedly more calm expression rested on KD's features, as she sat around playing with her apron casually. She had a lot of time to think after the earlier incident, her logic grasping firmly around her.
By logic, she had thought that a certain taxi driver would definitely not be returning, it would just be too suspicious.
It may actually just be hitting her that her saviour was a bone-fide murderer.
Taking a deep breath, she let some of the tension in her strung-up shoulders. It was fine, she was going to be oka-
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. The man of the hour strode in, his expression still as moody as ever. KD had froze, her glass almost slipping out of her hand, before she quickly smoothed over her terrified expression with one of the absolute tranquillity of a serene lake. Totally calm and collected. Totally.
Jarod seemed to rapidly scan the room, before stopping on her figure and marching towards her at Mach pace. The girl jolted, not expecting him to come charging at her, before he silently resumed his pace and gestured for a drink.
Okaaay. She was just about totally holding it together right now.
The seconds ticked by. She could hear the grandfather clock in the corner chiming. It was late. Was he still here. (He was.) Why was he here. Had she done something? Was... Was he here for her? No, no no no, why would be be here for her, he saved her, he saved her-
''Another drink.'' Jarod broke through her thoughts with his usual baritone, unaffected by her analysing expression and unnesseceray fidgeting. KD jolted, before hurriedly nodding and turning to collect the bottles. She was quickly done, passing the glass to the silent taxi man who accepted without a word.
His eyes bored into her once again.
She decided to meet them this time.
His eyes were a deep brown, almost black, swirling, but not with that cold fury he had shown the weasel… It was thoughtfulness and an analytical gaze to match her own. It's like he was trying to figure her out. He was… Curious about her.
It surprised her. It wasn't a need for knowledge from her, but a gentle curiosity, as if she were a hobby or interesting book. The brown-haired girl had never been the subject of such a look… A look of someone who was actually interested in her. She was surprised, and that realization showed on her face.
With slightly widened eyes, her lips parted to thank him, but they died in her throat, when she saw him still carefully watching her. Instead , she gave him an almost imperceptible nod of gratitude. For… Earlier. His eyes glinted in return, lifting his head and tilting it so his hat tipped towards her slightly, in acknowledgement.
"What's your name?" Jarod drawled, raising an eyebrow. KD cleared her throat before answering realising they'd been so engrossed n their silent conversation they'd been silent for a while.
"KD. Need another drink?"
"Yes… KD."
***
Joe had finally finished washing duty, exiting he kitchen, only to find newly-elected his teen bartender conversing freely with… The possibly-murderous-but-he's-not-saying-anything taxi man.
Hooo boy, he better get KD outta there before his regular decides to do something not so nice.
Sliding up to the counter, he tried to appear casual as he pat the girl's shoulder and said "Heyy, I've finished up in the back and your shift is over. Here's the pay, feel free to come back when you need some cash though l, I'm always low on staff here…"
After handing her the cash and complementary free meal, he nervously turned to Jarod, quickly greeting him as if he only just realised he was there. "Oh hey Jarod… Listen kid, you better get going, it's getting late…"
Satisfied and somewhat relived that it was the end of the encounter, the coffee-haired girl turn to leave.
A gloved hand rested on her shoulder before she got away from the counter. It wasn't threatening nor did it squeeze. It simply rested there.
There were dried red speckles on the gloves.
Turning her head towards the person quickly, she found Jarod staring into her soul once again. He simply stated , "Are you coming back here?"
Swallowing, KD squeaked back rather intimidated, "At some point, probably regularly, pay is good."
The taxi man nodded, as if he knew the answer anyway, and rereleased her shoulder turning back to his drink, filing away that information for future reference by the expression on his face.
Right as she pushed the doors open, she heard his voice ring out on cue, with a foreboding finality.
"Kid. Don't ever take the taxi."