Chapter Text
Funny enough, it actually started as Isha’s idea.
Well, really, it was Jinx who made the mistake of recounting the days when The Last Drop played live music. Something that now felt like centuries ago, a life belonging to someone else entirely with nights spent sneaking out of the apartment trying to catch a glimpse of whatever band was playing instead of tucked away in bed.
That should teach Jinx not to use vague childhood memories as bedtime stories anymore, she was giving Isha too many ideas.
Of course, the little gremlin was not going to be stopped by a simple ‘no, go to sleep’. Nah, not her kid. Isha was nothing if not stubborn as hell and even more determined, so it was no surprise when she went off rattling to her staff.
Chuck was her first target, easily manipulated by a cute kid, but he was too scared of Jinx to try mentioning anything.
Next was Gert, who came close to convincing Jinx but still not quite enough.
Last was Sevika, who didn’t even work at the bar, so Jinx doesn't know where she gets off telling her how to do her job.
What Isha doesn’t know, however, was that it wasn’t Sevika or Gert or Chuck that finally caused Jinx to cave, but rather golden amber eyes so full of hope and excitement. One look from the kid was all it took for Jinx to crumble.
Yeah, Isha could never find out. The kid would become an even bigger menace.
In hindsight, Jinx should probably be paying the little gremlin because the idea was genius. Sure, Fridays were always packed, but the Last Drop was practically overflowing with people now, everyone trying to get a glimpse of the show.
Really, what's better than a cheap beer and good music on a Friday night?
Zaun had a surprising amount of hidden talent, with local bands reaching out every other day for a spot on their roster.
Of course, the idea didn’t come without consequences for Jinx. While she let her bartender, Gert, mostly take care of staffing the musical talents, Jinx had the great pleasure of dealing with a really stubborn eight-year-old who insisted on staying up past bedtime to watch.
Jinx should have seen this coming, really, it's on her for not being better prepared. Never mind the fact said eight-year-old was a total grump the next day if she stayed up too late, god forbid she try to use logic to explain why the girl couldn’t stay up past midnight.
But after one too many times of Isha sneaking out of the upstairs apartment to watch the bands play, Jinx relented and they came up with a compromise. If she’d finished all her homework for the week, Isha could stay up till the first set was done, but once their break started, it was bedtime. No if, ands or buts.
Not like Isha really stayed awake past nine o’ clock anyway. She was usually tuckered out in Jinx’s arms by then, exhausted from all the excitement around her, stubbornly trying to stay awake as late as possible. How the kid managed to fall asleep in a bar full of loud drunks, she’ll never know.
This Friday was no different. Isha came barreling through the door of the bar after just barely finishing her dinner, Sevika close behind, running full speed into Jinx’s legs while she was trying to stock glasses.
Despite having gotten used to these types of greetings ages ago, the little bug was growing by the day, so there was some adjustment needed for the wind that got knocked out of Jinx lungs.
“Hey bug, you finished dinner?” Jinx ruffled the girl's hair, swiping little brown-blue bangs away from golden eyes.
Her question earned her an eye roll, “Yes”
“Oh yeah? Even the broccoli?
“Yes! Even the broccoli.”
“Good kid.” Jinx ruffled her hair once more, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. “Alright, you can help me set up for the band tonight if you get your homework done in time.”
“Who’s playing tonight?” Isha’s big amber eyes practically glowed in anticipation.
“Ouff—No clue. You’ll have to ask Gert when she comes in.”
Isha pouted a bit but didn’t question it further, opting to instead climb up on her stool at the bar and finished up her work before the show.
Perks of being the owner’s kid, Isha always had bids on her favourite seat. It was the one littered in doodle with the name ‘Isha’ written in bold pink letters. She’d claimed it as her own the second she found the faded name of ‘Powder’ under that very same barstool.
Sevika took the stool next to the kid, silently taking the drink that was slid in front of her.
“She give you any trouble?” Jinx asked, going through the motions getting the place ready for the rush was about to arrive.
“Nah, compared to you? The kid’s practically a saint.” Sevika just barely dodged the rag throw at her head, chest rumbling with a low chuckle. “How was day shift?”
“Meh, same old. Margot called out sick which is why I'm still here. Thanks for watching her by the way.”
Jinx usually worked the day shift so she could spend as much time as possible with Isha after work. The only exception to that was when they were short-staffed, on those days Isha had to hang out with Sevika after school.
Isha didn’t seem to mind at least, which was a relief for Jinx. She already didn’t like being stuck at work while Isha was out of school but it'd be even worse if her girl was upset about it.
It hadn’t exactly been her dream to work at a bar, hell it hadn’t been her dream to own one, but it’s better than where she thought she would be. Plus, the money was good and being her own boss meant no bullshit manager and flexible hours, so really, she couldn’t complain.
“Mmh!”
Isha hummed for her attention, gesturing towards her worksheet. “Can you help?”
Jinx leaned over the counter to read the questions, settling into their usual routine. Cleaning the back bar, homework with Isha, waiting for Gert to cover. It was nice, a little mundane, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Her therapist mentioned having a steady routine would help, that mundane didn’t always mean boring, sometimes it meant familiarity, safety. Plus, there was still plenty of chaos that came with running a bar; managing inventory, keeping track of schedules, making sure their regulars didn’t kill each other. It was the perfect mix of excitement and predictability.
Another plus was Isha loved the Last Drop. Which was good considering Jinx couldn’t really afford to live anywhere else. She’d inherited the building from Silco after his passing and with it came the bar and the apartments on the second/third floor.
And yeah, maybe the social worker hadn’t exactly been impressed when touring Jinx’s place, a bar isn’t exactly the ideal location to raise a kid, but clearly it was good enough according to the courts. Afterall, they let her adopt Isha.
Decides, what's wrong with growing up in a bar? Jinx had grown up in this very place, and look at her, she was fine.
Ha.
The front door swung open and in came the sound of heavy leather boots and metal chain clinking together. Jinx looked up, happy to see at least Gert was on time for her shift. Where the hell was Chuck?
“Finally,” Jinx whipped off her apron before Gert could even make it past the doorway and threw it onto the counter. “Alright bug, let’s get started on set up.”
“Wait! I wana know who’s playing tonight!” Isha insisted.
“Ugh, right.” Jinx slowed her pace, hollering over at Gert. “Hey G! Who’s playing tonight again?”
“Read the email I sent you.” Gert said without even looking at Jinx, simply continued walking towards the back.
“You know I don’t actually read those.”
“Too bad.”
“Aw come on! It’s for Isha!”
That always worked.
Gert emerged from the backroom, still typing her own apron and shooting Jinx a look that screamed, ‘I know what you’re doing and it’s working’.
“They’re called TrueDamage.” Gert answered, directing her attention towards Isha. “They’re really popular in Zaun, even got their album with original songs. Should bring in a good crowd. I think you’ll like them, kid.”
“Huh, fun times.” Jinx tried to rack her mind to remember if the name rang any bells but nope. “Alright bug get those legs moving! Sevika, you too! I need your freakish strength to move the amp.”
Music had always been a sort of escape for Jinx. It’s hard to focus on voices that aren’t there if you're blasting classic rock at full volume. That may have been what influenced Isha’s love for music, since Jinx was always playing something in the apartment. From morning to night, there was always some kind of tune playing.
Isha led the way to the basement where they kept the sound equipment, excitedly skipping ahead, becoming Jinx to hurry up.
The basement smelled like dust, old cables, and faintly of spilled beer no matter how many times Jinx scrubbed the place. Isha didn’t seem to notice—or maybe she was just used to it—hopping down the last few steps and flipping the light switch with a flourish like she was revealing treasure.
The place was mostly filled with some of Vander’s old things. Boxes of items Silco could never be bothered to move and Jinx couldn’t bring herself to get rid of. It’s down here she found her long lost childhood stuffed animal, Mr.Bunny, who was now Isha’s prize possession.
“Why don’t you just keep this shit upstairs again? ‘Stead of having me do this every week.” Sevika complained but still began lifting equipment, ready to take it upstairs.
“There’s no room upstairs,” Jinx answered, digging through some cases to find the mic cords, “Decides, I like torturing you.”
“I’m sending you my chiro bill.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get lifting, Lefty.”
By the time they managed to get the last of the equipment upstairs, half the bar was already filled. Jinx placed down the last of the speakers, looking around at the people already here.
“Geez, are all these people here to see the band?”
“Guess so,” Gert grunted, moving an empty keg. “Told you, they bring a crowd wherever they go.”
Huh.
Honestly, Jinx had been a bit skeptical at first handing over the band project to Gert, but their tastes were similar enough that it was a safe bet. But seeing how packed the place was beginning to get, and it wasn’t even 7 yet? Damn, maybe she should consider giving Gert a raise.
While Gert finished getting the sound system connected, Jinx saw that Isha was already back in her favourite stool at the bar. No doubt trying to sweet sign her way into more juice.
Sure enough, Thieram, or Chuck as Jinx liked to call him, quietly slid over their famous house mocktail to the kid. It was basically a glorified sprite with blue raspberry syrup to change its colour and a shark gummy but Isha adored it, and thus earning its name as “Isha’s drink”.
“Hey boss.” Thieram nodded, pretending like he hadn’t just given into an eight-year-old’s demands. Jinx slid into the stool next to Isha.
“‘Sup Chuck.”
“Busy night tonight, huh? Band hasn’t even gotten here yet.”
“Yeah, might have to jump back and help you guys if it gets any busier.” Jinx whistled low, eyeing up the crowd slowly pouring in.
The Last Drop wasn’t exactly small, more so cozy. It’d been a community staple for so many years so when Jinx landed herself with the title as owner, it already had decent foundations. The biggest problem inheriting the place was getting the building back in working order, or at least well enough that the health inspector didn’t have an aneurysm before even walking through the door.
So much hard work had gone into getting the bar functioning again after Silco’s passing. Hell, so much work had gone into getting Jinx functioning again after Silco’s passing.
But it was all worth it.
She looked around the room, waving to some of her favourite regulars. She’s pretty sure some of these guys have been coming to this bar longer than she’s been alive. The fact they kept coming back made her feel like she was doing something right.
She snapped herself out of her melancholy when a drink was placed in front of her. A matching blue mocktail, shark gummy and all, drew her attention back to reality. Back to Isha, who’s little eyes were laser focused on the candy adorning the drink.
“Nuhu, this is my shark gummy you little rat.” Jinx poked Isha on the nose, making a dramatic show of stuffing the gummy in her mouth before grubby little hands could yoink it.
“Hma!” Isha huffed, scrunching her nose. It’s fine, she knew where they kept the gummies in the back and made a mental note to go raid stash later while mama was distracted…
“And don’t even think about raiding the back, little miss.” Jinx tickled the girl’s side, earning a surprised squeal and a swat.
Damnit. Her mama was always one step ahead.
Just as she was about to pick up Isha and continue her tickle attack, a new group of faces entered the bar, none of which looked familiar to Jinx, but Gert seemed to recognize them immediately, already on her feet, ready to greet them.
“Oh! That’s them!” Gert dashed over to the new group that just walked in, talking animatedly with one of the women.
Then her eyes landed on him.
There were five of them. Or at least, she’s pretty sure. She kind of stopped paying attention as soon as her eyes landed on the mystery hunk.
He was stunning, with a face that looked as though it was carved from actual marble and the softest brown eyes she’d ever seen. Tall, lean, dressed in a way that said he didn’t try too hard but still somehow pulled it off. His dreads were swung over, revealing a clean shaved undercut that Jinx didn’t know would do things to her. His face was all sharp edges and soft eyes—brown and warm and way too aware of what they were doing.
He scanned the bar with a kind of relaxed curiosity, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, shoulders loose. He greeted Gert with a polite smile, shaking hands and giving introductions.
Then his eyes met hers.
For half a second, he looked surprised. Like he hadn’t expected to meet anyone’s gaze. Then came the tiniest, crooked smile. He’d caught her staring.
Abort mission. Abort mission.
Jinx quickly looked away, focusing her attention back on her drink, praying to god her face wasn’t as red as it felt.
Little hands poked at her arm, demanding attention, “Is that the band?”
Jinx blinked, trying to unstick her brain from wherever it had just short-circuited.
“I—what?” she asked, a little too quickly. She spared a quick glance at the group, seeing Gert leading them over to the makeshift stage. “Yep, that’s the band playing tonight. You wana go say hi?”
Isha's eyes lit up like Jinx had just handed her the keys to the candy vault. “Can I?!”
Jinx nodded, setting her drink down and brushing imaginary crumbs from Isha’s hoodie. “Just be polite, okay? Don’t climb on anyone. And no biting.”
“That was one time!”
“No biting,” Jinx said firmly, giving her a light tap on the nose before the kid bolted across the room, weaving between tables like a little eel.
Jinx took a breath, finally letting her shoulders drop. She hadn’t realized how tense she was until Isha zoomed off. Her eyes drifted back to him—just for a second. Just to see if he was watching.
He was.
Of course he was.
This time, his smile was softer. Less teasing, more… curious. He was looking between her and Isha, no doubt doing the mental gymnastics trying to figure out how the two were connected. Just as he looked like he was about to come over, her name was called.
“Jinx! Can you lend a hand?”
Thank fuck. She was saved from potentially embarrassing herself in front of mystery hunk when Thieram hollered her over. The bar was getting busier by the second and with Gert getting the band set up, he needed help getting orders ready.
Jinx tossed one last glance toward the stage, half-expecting—or maybe half-hoping—he’d still make his way over. But no, he turned back listening to Gert, facing away from her, effectively breaking whatever spell he’d momentarily put her under.
Good. Great. Perfect.
She slipped behind the bar with practised ease, tying her apron in a swift motion and sliding in next to Thieram.
“You rang?” she said, already reaching for the next drink ticket.
Thieram didn’t even look up from the row of shots he was pouring. “You mean you strutted dramatically in at the exact moment I was about to get crushed under a tidal wave of drink tickets? Yeah, thanks. I swear in another life you must have been some melodramatic super villain.”
“Hey!” she shot back, smirking. “That’s extra-dramatic super villain to you, motherfucker.”
“Whatever,” he chuckled, swiping a new ticker. “Two sangrias and a pale lager. Table eight.”
“Heard.” She was already moving, muscle memory taking over. For a second, she let herself settle into it—hands busy, mind focused, no room for stupid heart flutters or stolen glances—
Until she caught sight of him again.
He was sitting now, perched on a stool just off-stage, elbow resting on his knee, laughing at something one of the others said, very much not looking her way.
Which was good. That was good, right? That was exactly what she needed.
Still, she struggled to look away from him, which made her pour the beer a little too fast, fizz spilling over the rim like it had somewhere else to be.
“Nice,” Thieram said dryly.
“Shut up,” Jinx muttered and grabbed a rag.
‘Get it together.’ She thought. They were completely slammed tonight, with the bar packed from wall to wall, no time for mistakes.
A quick head shake and she jumped right into the groove of her usual bartending, filling out pints and shaking drinks till she completely lost track of time. At some point Isha popped back in her seat, hands full of gummy sharks. When did the little gremlin sneak into the back?
“Hey!” Jinx scolded but the massive grin on her face didn’t exactly help her look stern, “Who gave you those, huh?”
Isha just giggled, miming zipping her lips before plopping another gummy in her mouth.
“It was Sevika, wasn’t it. Damn ogre’s going soft.”
Isha just continued laughing, mouth stuffed to the brim with gummies. Jinx was about to retort with something but then the lights suddenly dimmed and the spotlight was set to the stage.
The room fell to a murmur as everyone shifted their attention to the band. Jinx leaned against the bar, absently wiping down the counter as the low hum of anticipation rippled through the crowd. The stage lights flickered once, then steadied, casting the group in a wash of warm gold.
Isha was still chomping on gummy sharks, feet kicking beneath her stool in rhythm with the low bass thrum starting to build. Jinx’s eyes skimmed over the band—checking mics, instruments, gear—everything looked good. Then he stepped forward.
Front and center, of course, she should have guessed, guitar slung across his chest, fingers adjusting knobs and switches like he’d done it a thousand times. Which he probably had.
And then he looked up at the crowd.
He had a sheepish grin on, with the barest hint of blush appearing, creeping up to his ears. He gave a quick look to his bandmates, checking everyone was tuned and ready, before stepping up to the mic and giving it a light tap.
“Hey there everyone, we’re True Damage” he spoke, voice steady, Jinx forced herself to hold back a shiver, “We’ve got a mix of old stuff, new stuff, and maybe one or two things we haven’t played live before, so... hope you’re into surprises.”
The crowd gave a cheer, low but sincere, and the drummer started the count.
Jinx doesn’t really know what she was expecting. Sure Gert told her they were good and judging by the crowd, a lot of people knew they were good but it still took her by surprise when the music picked up, the band in perfect sync.
Then he started singing.
God damn—the man could sing.
His voice was beautifully smooth, like sweet honey on a warm afternoon. The song started in a low hum, gentle guitar strums and soft beats before picking up. As soon as it did, the whole vibe in the bar changed. People were nodding along, some were gently swaying, those who knew the tune were singing along.
She leaned against the bar, arms crossed tight, pretending to survey the crowd, but her eyes kept dragging back to him. The way his fingers danced over his guitar, the way he smiled without meaning to when the bassist nailed a tricky run.
Judging by the way the room was reacting, they were also impressed.
The surprise must have been clear on her face because seconds later, Gert showed up, elbowing her with a cocky grin. “Told you, they’re fantastic.”
Jinx snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Less bragging, more pouring.”
Drink orders were still coming in with no signs of slowing down. Theiram switched to bussing tables while Gert and Jinx were working the bar. She always thrived in this kind of environment, the familiar chaos. It was quick and precise and loud. It’s hard to be thinking about anything else when you’re focusing on not dropping hundreds of dollars worth of booze.
Theiram weaved through the crowd like a pro, tray balanced on one hand, grabbing empties and exchanging quick grins with the regulars. “You owe me a shot if I make it through this night without dropping something,” he called over the music.
“Only if you survive the post-show cleanup,” Jinx shot back, flipping a clean towel over her shoulder.
The bar was buzzing—full and electric, the kind of energy that only came around on a good Friday night. True Damage had the crowd locked in, and every note seemed to pull the room tighter together. Isha was clearly enamoured, dancing her little heart out near the front, smile threatening to split her face in half.
Even if Sevika was keeping an eye on her kid, Jinx always made sure she was in her sights. Both for her own sanity and just because she loved seeing how excited Isha got when bands came to play.
The kid’s joy must be contagious with the way Jinx was also smiling like a lunatic. She couldn’t help it, her baby was adorable dancing away without a care in the world.
Jinx never wanted to admit it to herself, what with her track record of jinxing things, but she couldn’t help but sigh in content at her life. She had her kid, her bar and nights like this—music rolling through the walls, friends around her, the air thick with laughter, clinking glasses, and the hum of something good.
It wasn’t perfect. It never was. The bar’s plumbing acted up when it rained, bills piled up quicker than she liked, and Isha’s school kept emailing her about some behavioural concerns, which Jinx still thinks the bitch kid antagonizing Isha had in coming when she unleashed her right hook on him. But according to Sevika that’s not an ‘appropriate response’, no matter how proud they both were.
But despite all that, Jinx wouldn’t trade it. Not a second of it.
Gert chuckled beside her, clearly having caught sight of Isha’s dancing. “You know she’s gonna beg for an encore, right?”
“Janna, don’t remind me.” Jinx huffed a laugh, painfully aware that the kid was gona do anything to push back her bedtime. Again. With any luck, though, Isha would tire herself out with all the dancing and be crawling into her mom’s arms before intermission… hopefully.
Or maybe just have a sugar crash after all those gummies she smuggled. Little rascal.
The drink orders eventually slowed down an hour or so later, allowing Gert and Thieram to take things over so Jinx could sit and enjoy her night. Well, enjoy it as much as she could after working a double and basically being dead on her feet.
She flopped herself onto Isha’s barstool, smiling at the girl who was still boogying away, before letting her eyes drift to the stage. To him.
He wasn’t flashy, not in the way some frontmen tried to be. No over-the-top poses or forced charisma. Just that same quiet magnetism—like he was doing the thing he loved and had forgotten anyone else was watching. Little beads of sweat decorated his forehead and that grin—ugh, that grin—was back again as he leaned into the mic for another verse.
Jinx quickly glanced at the time, they must be getting close to intermission, the band’s been playing for a while now. She made a mental note to remind Gert to comp their drinks, a usual thing they did for the band’s that came to perform, when sleepy golden eyes suddenly entered her vision.
Isha swayed slightly on her feet, lifting her arms up to reach out to Jinx. All that dancing drained her real quick. She let out a small huff of air when she was scooped up but otherwise settled into her mom’s arms like second nature.
‘Called it’ Jinx thought, brushing back Isha’s bangs as she stubbornly refused to close her eyes, too entrapped by the performance going on. No matter how tired she was, Isha always refused to fall asleep before intermission, soaking in every last second of her late bedtime privileges.
Luckily for Jinx though, the band was wrapping up the last song of their first set. As the final song wound down, the band exchanged a few looks—sweaty, flushed, glowing with the kind of satisfaction that only comes from a set gone right. Perfect timing too, Isha’s head just started nodding off.
Jinx stood, holding Isha close with one arm while gently rocking on her heels, ready to head out for the night. Isha’s little hands were curled into the fabric of Jinx’s hoodie, and her breath was already starting to slow, lashes fluttering against her flushed cheeks.
She waved good night to her staff and Sevika, who surprisingly decided to stay for the second set, and started making her way towards the door.
The room erupted in cheers as the final note rang out, the kind of applause that wasn’t just polite—it was earned. A few whistles cut through the noise, a couple of folks already calling out requests. The lead singer laughed softly into the mic, bashful again now that the music had stopped, like someone had flipped a switch in him.
“We’ll be back in twenty,” he said, voice hoarse but warm. “Grab a drink. Tip your bartenders. And tell that little rockstar up front she’s got better moves than I do.”
A few people laughed, heads turning towards her, most of them having seen Isha dancing. Jinx blinked, head tilting towards the stage—he was looking right at them.
That stupid grin pulled at his lips again, half-teasing, half-something else, and Jinx could feel her ears burn.
‘Oh, hell.’ She thought.
The bass player tapped his shoulder, quickly saying something before he turned to face the mic again. “I’m being told it’s tradition here to say goodnight to Isha during halftime. Which I think was said little rockstar that was up front. So, good night Isha.”
Yeah, she was a total goner.
A few of the regulars who knew the silly tradition Gert started echoed back their goodnights, waving Jinx as she made her way to the door.
Isha managed to lift her head from Jinx’s shoulder, sighing a sleepy ‘goodnight’ to everyone in the bar, earning many little coo’s, and letting herself be carried away by her mama.
“Good night, assholes. Don’t wreck my bar.” Jinx bellowed to the crowd, smirking at the laughs returned before readjusting Isha in her arms.
She took one last look around the bar, her eyes locking with mystery hunk. He was still onstage, laughing along with the crowd, guitar slung loose at his side, posture relaxed—a dangerous glint in his eyes.
Their gazes caught, held. He didn’t look away this time. Just shot her a cheeky wink.
Bastard.
Jinx’s lips twitched, just barely, before she turned and slipped into the hallway, Isha heavy in her arms and her heart doing something it absolutely shouldn’t be doing for a musician she hadn’t known a few hours ago.
Isha let out a little noise, shifting slightly in her arms, clearly starting to get fussy.
Right, sleepy kid. Potentially turning into cranky kid. Jinx had to get moving.
Lucky for them, it wasn’t exactly a long walk home. Jinx tiptoed up the stairs that led to the apartments above the bar, their own little sanctuary.
As quietly as she could, she snuck her way through the front door, locking it with a soft click. It’s at times like these she could kiss whoever constructed this building with its ridiculously thick concrete walls, you couldn’t hear a peep from the bar below unless you had the windows open.
Jinx quickly kicked off her shoes, walking down the hallway leading to her room, well, her and Isha’s room. Despite the fact Isha did have her own room, the kid basically claimed Jinx’s as her own.
As if she’d ever complain, Jinx always slept better if Isha was close by.
“Come on, bug, pajama time.”
Some wiggling and a lot of fussing later, Isha had fresh pj’s on and clean teeth, ready to be tucked into bed.
Jinx flipped off the hallway light and pulled the bedroom door mostly shut behind her, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows across the walls. Isha had already crawled under the covers, half-buried in plushies and looking entirely too pleased with herself for someone who barely stayed awake long enough to brush her teeth.
“Was so much fun.” Isha signed, her movement sluggish. Jinx laughed quietly, taking care to tuck Isha under the blankets nice and snug.
“Yeah I saw. You danced your heart out, squirt.” Jinx said lovingly, her voice almost foreign to her own ears with how soft it was. She brushed away the stray curls from Isha eyes, her heart melting that little bit more at the sigh of content she let out.
It didn’t take long for Isha to be passed out, all the excitement from the night now officially out of her system, leaving behind the sweet peace of sleep.
Jinx placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, quietly slipping out of the room.
You could vaguely hear the thumping from the bar below but only just barely. Being two stories up helped muffle most of the vibrations. Which was great because Jinx did not want to think about another drink ticket or bottle inventory right now. She just wanted to flop face first on her couch and not have to move for a while.
So that’s what she did, unceremoniously diving into the cushions of the old sofa, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up on her too. At the rate the bar’s popularity was going, she was gona have to hire more staff soon. Which meant more paper work. Fantastic
She signed, willing herself not to think about work anymore, instead choosing to focus on the memories of the night, the laughter, the smiles. This was by far the best Friday she’s had in a while, and judging by how easy it was to get Isha to bed, she had a great time too.
Then there was Mr. Mystery hunk. As busy as the night was, Jinx wasn’t mad about being able to set her eyes on him throughout the night. Yeah, the music was great, but god damn so was the view.
All in all, a fantastic night.
Jinx rolled onto her side, her cheek smushing into the lumpy dents of the couch. Sure, maybe she wasn’t where she thought she would be as a kid, but she was happy, and that's more than she could have ever hoped for.
Caught in her daze between the world of sleep and the one downstairs, a very annoying and unfortunate thought rang through her mind.
Fuck.
She never got his name.