After almost two weeks of working at Haggard, Callum got used to the crowds and the practically habitual teasing of his…whatever it was he and Mason had. As much as he wanted to deny it, Callum knew that there was something there. But he chose to not think about it and carry on with his life.
Grayson and Alex had hit it off, as predicted, and Callum was happy for his friend. The two had a lot in common and clearly enjoyed the other’s company, and Callum had witnessed them sneaking glances, kisses, and make-out sessions here and there. It was cute.
Callum pasted on a smile as he handed over two beers to the two women in front of him before rushing off to tend to a man who appeared to be drowning his sorrows in colorful cocktails. It took fumbling and many mistakes, but Callum had more or less figured out simple cocktails. His main issue was trying to remember the specific amounts of what needed to go in each ridiculously named drink.
Tonight was his second night attempting to cater to the first floor. It was a big change from the second and Callum missed the less hectic floor immensely. Grayson had blended in with ease and was allowed downstairs after the first couple days – although to be fair, he had been pleading to be allowed to take first floor shifts since his second day and everyone knew it was so he could sneak more time with Alex.
It was nearing the peak hour and Callum was not looking forward to it. Still, he kept his professional smile pasted on his lips and helped Ingrid and Anna as best as he could.
During the middle of the peak hour, Callum found a second for a breather and sighed, leaning against a wall and rubbing his face.
A hand clapped his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. Callum looked over to see Vance, surprisingly enough.
“Hang on for just a bit more,” he said, somewhat gruffly.
Callum raised a brow and nodded with a puzzled smile. Although he didn’t think Vance outright hated him, the vampire didn’t seem to really like him all that much either. He was silent and dismissive, only speaking when he needed to and when he did, he was curt and to the point.
Vance rolled his eyes and let go of Callum, “I don’t hate you. If I didn’t like you, you’d know. I just don’t do the whole smiling thing.”
Callum laughed, “Alright, thanks for letting me know.”
Vance rolled his eyes one more time before drifting off back to work.
Callum grabbed a couple drinks and went to their respective tables. He saw Mason flitting about, talking to people and keeping an eye on things. He spent most of his time overseeing the first floor, although from the way he interacted, you wouldn’t think he owned the place. He danced and drank and mingled like any regular club goer. Although Callum did quickly notice that Mason never danced too close or accepted any sort of offer from anyone. He didn’t want to think about how his heart jumped and face twitched into a smile whenever he saw the shifter reject advances from men and women alike.
“Hey, they need help at the bar,” Ingrid told him as she passed by with a plate of small snacks and colorful drinks.
Callum nodded and waded his way past the human sea that was the dance floor to get to the bar where Bennett was visibly struggling to cater to the giant crowd.
“Thank the spirits, you take the left, I’ve got the right,” Bennett told him the second Callum hopped over the counter.
“Got it,” Callum replied and quickly grabbed several bottles of beer for the group of incredibly impatient college kids.
The two worked tirelessly until they managed to get the bar under some semblance of control and were no longer running around like chickens with their heads cut off.
Callum served a drink to a gruff man before turning to attend to a pair of girls. One of them looked vaguely familiar; the shape of her brown eyes brought forth a name to the tip of his tongue.
“Sorry for the wait, what can I get you?” he asked them politely.
The girl who he was sure he had seen somewhere before turned to look at him with a smile. It dropped instantly into a scowl and Callum was taken aback at the ferocity and utter hatred pouring from her expression.
“You murderous fucking faggot!” she screamed before launching over the bar counter and aiming for Callum’s throat with her nails.
Stunned, Callum didn’t have time to move and crashed backwards, his head hitting the cabinet above. His vision doubled and sound morphed like he was underwater with cotton stuffed in his ears. He barely felt the girl’s sharp nails digging into the sensitive skin of his neck, oxygen being increasingly difficult to inhale, someone pulling her off of him.
Before everything faded to darkness, recognition hit as the girl spat at him.
Murderer. Brother. Demon. All your fault. My brother’s dead. Because of you. Killed him. Monster.
She was Justin’s sister.
A/N: :D The 2% drama is here. It's actually quite the coincidence that yesterday I told myself I was going to update today because I partially passed out at school again this morning. And literally seconds before we had a lockdown drill. I have impeccable timing.
Also, should I wait to up the rating until the chapter of the explicit scene or should I do it early?
Also (again) I'm hoping to finish this before Feb 7 because I have a week long school trip then to fuck knows where. Let's see how that goes.