Cigarette butts and loathsome alcohol cluttered around the place as she wiped off the spilled whiskey wasted from which the Hispanic old man just dropped and shattered. The cloth smoothly followed her hands' direction, trying her best not to get it near the broken glass pieces. The wood went hard against her knees when she strained to reach the farther wet part of the floor, and she tucked the end of her bangs behind her ears when it fell down her face softly like wool and petal. A fifth replay of some Bob Seger song blasted from the speakers of the room as if it was the only piece included in the lounge's playlist, and she sighed. It was the same day as yesterday and both were on its worse, although she'd only been here for two days.
She pulled the metal tray resting on her right when she was done and started collecting the shattered glass with her bare hands, placing it rapidly on the tray as soon as she took it. The pointy ends of the glass looked sharp against her eyes, and she can feel it digging inside of her just from the sight of it, but she tried to shake the thought anyway. She'll be gone from this place soon enough, so everything will be just fine. When it was the last one she was holding, her eyes gazed at it for a moment as the picture forming on it caught her. It was clear sepia and right through it, she can spot her reflection looking back at her with her irises merging with the glass's pretty color. She looked naive; her dark hair all bundled up messily with a loose rubber band and her bee-stung lips always in a thin line.
The drunkards' laugh strung her ears by surprise, and the glass piece she was holding accidentally slipped from her fingers, cutting a small part of her fingertip before it could crash against the floor again. Blood oozed out quickly before she could press her finger down her apron. Her gaze passed by the drunken men in the booth, and she kept it there while she plucked up the glass for the last time and placed it on the tray. One of the men caught her watching them, sending her a sick smirk and a raise of his beer bottle. With her free hand, she picked up the tray and stood up, turning on her heels and finally making her way towards the serving hatch.
Bar doors creaked open as clacking of heels echoed the room. Slowly, Daisy felt her lips crack into a huge grin before she turned around to see who just came. The lady in a pretty beret walked towards the bar, not moving her gaze from the bartender as she did. Maybe it was some silent conversation between them because as soon as she got her arms on the table, automatically did the bartender handed her a shot of some cheap vodka.She smiled coquettishly before gulping up. The bartender drummed his fingernails with sweaty palms. It wasn't long before the mysterious lady pulled away the shot glass from her very red lips and threw it against the brick wall behind him, escaping a chuckle afterwards.
The men froze from their drinks and jokes. The place went silent as the lady quickly got out a shiny pocket knife from the band of her peplum skirt and pulled the head of the bartender, squeezing it in between her flexed arms. The handle of the knife took a tighter grip on her hand as she pulled it nearer his throat, circling the blade's tip lightly on the shape of his Adam's apple. "You know what to do," she hissed harshly to his ear before he pressed the cashier's open button hurriedly, spicy tears threatening to burn the layer of his cornea.
On the other side of the room, Daisy stretched her hand playfully before taking out a fresh .38 from the under of her apron. Out of cue, she faced the rest of the people in the room and pointed it on every direction she can come across. She even felt her flat doll shoes working well with her as she walked herself to the center of the room, looking from one direction to another; from the drunkards, to the kitchen staff and to the rest of the waitresses in their most messed up mascara until they all finally got the hint and ducked helplessly on the ground. A smile slowly formed on her face, almost letting out a soft laugh with all the things she's witnessing.
It all felt good to her; the power, the money, the fear.
It was all good.
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