***"I'm well acquainted with villains that live in my head***
***They beg me to write them so they'll never die when I'm dead."*** *\- Halsey*
***Alissa Blake***
It was my first day at my new job. I was used to serving people because of my previous job at the café. The bar was much busier than I had expected for a Thursday night.
The music was low, and the smell of alcohol mixed with the sound of rock and random conversations created a chaotic atmosphere that, somehow, felt almost comfortable to me. I was doing my best, moving through the tight space behind the counter, washing glasses, and taking orders with the efficiency of someone who knew that their job and bills depended on it.
The boss, Bruce, had a voice that reminded me of muffled thunder. His robust, rustic appearance matched his personality, which wasn’t exactly the best example of kindness. Whenever I got something wrong, he’d look at me as if I’d just committed a crime.
Bosses always expect some magical level of efficiency, as if we were born knowing everything.
But I put up with it. I always have. “Hey, hottie, bring me another beer, angel,” one of the customers at the counter said, smiling in a way that made my skin crawl with disgust.
These were the downsides so far, and the low-cut uniform didn’t help lessen the stares. It was like their eyes were about to pop out of their heads and land right in the middle of my chest.
I rolled my eyes, keeping the fake smile I had already perfected. “Sure. But if you want more, you’ll have to be nice to the waitress. We’re a rare breed these days.”
He laughed, but the sound annoyed me. I tried to ignore it, handed him the beer, and went back to work. I should’ve spat in his glass.
I’d adopt that method to compensate for the fact that I couldn’t curse at them or flip them off. Eventually, the rush began to die down, and I took the chance to breathe.
It was already past midnight, but I still had an hour left on my shift. I cleaned the empty tables and kept an eye on the drunks, who definitely wouldn’t leave until the bar closed.
I grabbed my phone when my boss stepped away, taking the opportunity to check if I had any messages. And I did—just not from Holden. I saw him busy on social media; I knew he had a lot going on, but I still couldn’t help feeling frustrated that he wasn’t giving me as much attention as he had when I was in the hospital.
I guess I’m pretty hypocritical. But then again, who doesn’t get a little lost in their hypocrisy?
When I opened the message, I was puzzled by the picture of an anime doll and the way it was poorly written, with some spelling mistakes.
“Hi, Alissa. Do you want to be my friend?” it said. I checked the profile, but it seemed fake—it had no friends at all. Was it a prank? Or maybe a bot? I decided to ignore it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why would someone waste time sending something so random?
A few minutes before my shift ended, I heard the sound of the door opening. I cursed under my breath as I stood with my back turned, washing what seemed like an endless pile of glasses.
When I turned around, I was surprised.
“Cyrus?” My voice came out louder than I intended. He walked in like he owned the place, wearing a leather jacket that probably cost more than two months of my rent.
“How are you, Alissa?” he asked, looking around with disdain.
“Working. What are you doing here? Are you checking up on me? Did something happen to Holden?” My heart sped up at the last question.
He gave a half-smile. “Yes, I’m checking up on you. And Holden is fine.” Phew!—I’d already had time to think of a thousand disastrous scenarios.
“At least you’re honest,” I retorted, crossing my arms. “Are you trying to keep me away from Holden?”
“I’m trying to keep Holden out of trouble,” he said with that casual tone that irritated me deeply. “And sometimes, that includes you.”
His honesty caught me off guard. “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replied, watching me with an almost... curious expression. “You were a pleasant surprise. You’re not one of those who’ll do anything for fame.”
“Well, I wouldn’t make a good example of a public figure,” I said, laughing without humor.
Cyrus looked at me in a way that made my stomach turn. “You’re right,” he said bluntly.
I was speechless for a moment. “How much has Holden told you?”
“Unfortunately, nothing,” he sighed, leaning on the counter. “He still hasn’t realized that there are no secrets in this industry. But I’ve been in this business long enough to know where to dig.”
I swallowed hard. Of course, he knew.
“So... you want me to stay away from him?” Cyrus was silent for a few seconds before answering.
“That would be ideal,” he admitted, but there was something in his tone that sounded almost... gentle. “But I know that’s not going to happen. So at least I want you to be safe and out of trouble.”
He looked around the bar, his gaze stopping on some customers who weren’t just there to drink. “And this place could be a problem. Holden is too hot-headed to handle the way these guys look at you.”
I rolled my eyes. “So, what do you suggest, Cyrus?”
“You are a Bachelor of Arts in Music Production, don’t you? Why not get a real job?” He really delved into it.
I shrugged, washing the glasses. “Having a police record makes things harder, you know?”
To my surprise, he smiled. Not the mocking smile I expected, but something more... human. “I’ll help you,” he said, with a firmness that caught me off guard.
“Why?”
“Because sometimes good things happen,” he replied, shrugging. “Get used to it, Alissa.”
I stayed silent as he left the bar, still processing his words. I didn’t completely trust him, but there was something about the way he spoke that made sense.
Or maybe I was being too naïve… but for the first time in a long time, someone besides Holden seemed to be trying to help me without wanting anything in return.
*And honestly, that was terrifying.*