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[center][color=98b8a3][I]Morning, in an apartment that isn't his[/I][/color][/center]
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Nick rolled over lethargically, [I][color=98b8a3]Why Did His Head Hurt So Much?[/color][/I] The cover he was under felt really nice, and he vaguely wondered if he could stay like this forever. His body was definitely protesting any movement right now, and the comforter felt comfortingly heavy over his body, which was feeling more like a corpse at this point. Now that he thought about it, this mattress felt [I]way[/I] too expensive to be his. He froze in place, realizing just how wrong things were. Thick comforter, annoyingly white and spotless, and a scent of- was that citrus? He opened his eyes slowly, knowing exactly what he was going to see, yet still hoping maybe he was wrong. Yep, definitely another human being sleeping next to him. She looked so peaceful sleeping, nothing like the person she had been yesterday. [color=98b8a3][I] Oh,[/I] shit, [I]yesterday.[/I][/color]

God, even thinking was [I]really[/I] hurting Nick's head. It felt like his whole body had a severe case of dry mouth, and his head felt like someone was driving nails into his skull. [color=98b8a3][I]You definitely deserve this,[/I][/color] a bitter voice muttered in the back of his head. [color=98b8a3][I]This is what you get for not listening to your better judgement, asshat.[/I][/color] Yep, and there it was, the self-loathing, right on schedule.

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[center][color=98b8a3][I]Yesterday, at the Pink Barrel[/I][/color][/center]
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The bar was busy, and Nick wouldn't have been able to get a break, even if he needed one. Lucky enough, he didn't need one, nor did he really want one. He was content with the constant give and take of tasks at hand. Pass over a drink. Take a card. Tuck tips into his apron. The only complaint he had was that it really was getting hot in here. All these people partying. It didn't seem like the fact that it was only a Wednesday in the late after noon deterred people from packing in like sardines as the night wore on. The heat from all the bodies in a space that wouldn't feel so small if it weren't so crowded was starting to make Nick a little warm, and his uniform definitely wasn't helping. He was wearing what he usually dead, white button up collared shirt under a dark grey button up vest. His tie was tucked between his shirt and vest, and he was wearing a waist apron over his black slacks. He shoved his sleeves up his arms, contemplating if it would be too unprofessional to take his vest off. He poured himself a cold glass of water and drank it quickly. There were drinks to be made.

It looked like the next one on his list was a mango mai tai, extra heavy on the alcohol. He grabbed mango rum, oj, and pineapple juice, among other ingredients. He shook it up, poured it over a tall glass of ice, and stuck a pineapple and maraschino cherry skewer in one side. He turned around, scanning the bar, trying to remember who this order had come from.

Her eyes lit up expectantly when she saw him, and he was grateful that he didn't have to remember who ordered. The bar was stuffed to the gills. He'd seen her come in, a predatory look in her eyes, as if she'd come here for a purpose. She leaned over the counter in a way she must have thought was seductive, hoop earrings swinging wildly. In an afterthought it occurred to Nick that it was more of a slump than a lean. She must've had a couple drinks as a pregame. He didn't have much time to roll this over in his mind too much, though, since long acrylic nails burrowed into his forearm. Nick's wince was visible only in the brief furrow of his brow, but never did an uncomfortable feeling occur to him. He knew how to handle this, drunk people was part of the whole job. He would admit, though, stiletto style manicures did not feel great in flesh. He used the drink in his hand as an excuse to pry her nails out of his arm, putting the fruity cocktail in the offending hand. A fitting replacement, he figured. He turned to make another drink, but the lady in front of him scowled. 

[color=98b8a3]"Everything alright Miss?"[/color]

The lady simpered exaggeratedly. [color=fff79a]"It's been a bit of a strikeout night for me."[/color] She sighed, the fake smile dropping off of her face. [color=fff79a]"My first date ordered dinner and drinks, excused himself to the bathroom, and left me with the check."[/color]

The story sounded rehearsed, but Nick wasn't getting paid to bust customer's excuses for drinking. [color=98b8a3]"Why, I'm sorry to hear that Miss. Hopefully you have a better time here. Your first drink is on me."[/color] He tried his best to sound sympathetic, the corners of his mouth perking up ever so slightly. She giggled at him, and Nick figured it was just the alcohol speaking. She kept ordering drinks, mostly fruit cocktails, and around sunset Nick told her he wouldn't be able to serve her drinks anymore. The last thing he wanted was to underestimate how much she'd had beforehand, and help her drink herself to alcohol poisoning.

She stayed, even though she agreed she wouldn't order anymore drinks. She alternated between the dance floor, the bar, and going for fresh air outside. Nick would refill her glass of water and bring her more bar snacks when she returned. It really did seem that she'd been having a rough night, for whatever reason. Closing time rolled around, and as he was wiping down the bar, he noticed the customer had yet to leave. She looked like she'd sobered up more, her eyes no longer as glazed as they had been before.

[color=98b8a3]"Do you have a ride Miss..?"[/color]

[color=fff79a]"Jenna."[/color] She filled in the blank for him. [color=fff79a]"Unfortunately, my best friend isn't picking up."[/color] Nick noticed her words weren't slurred. Nick wasn't surprised, seeing as it was getting into the late hours of night. [color=fff79a]"I can just drive myself home."[/color]

[color=98b8a3]"I mean, I could give you a ride, if you need one."[/color] Nick felt like letting her drive herself home was terrible idea. While she seemed only just past tipsy after all the water and hours that had passed, Nick wasn't going to chance anything. What kind of bartender would he be if he let his customers leave like this?

Her eyes lit up in a adorable way that betrayed her true nature, scribbling an address on a napkin. She stood up with surprising stability, but he put his arm around her shoulders He held open the passenger seat and winced a little when she flopped bonelessly inside his car. He buckled her in, leaning the seat back a little. She closed her eyes and smiled appreciatively. Nick went to his side of the car and punched the address into his phone. Halfway into the ride, she perked up, leaning her chair forward and talking to Nick until they got to her apartment. Nick got out and opened her door, helping her out. He turned to get back into his car, but she stopped him gently, asking him to walk her upstairs. Nick knew he should say no, but he followed her anyways.

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[center][color=98b8a3][I]Late Afternoon? Apartment 4B / The Roof[/I][/color]
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[color=98b8a3][I]Ok, two steps forward, one step back, not one step forward, two steps back.[/I][/color]

It had been nearly half a day since he'd woken up, and yet Nick still fell crappy about the whole event. He'd showered vigorously, scrubbing off all the dirt but not the regretful feeling. That was definitely sticking with him through the day. [color=98b8a3][I]Well deserved[/I][/color] that voice sniped in the back of his head, again.

He'd gone to the animal shelter, hoping doing something worthwhile would not only clear his conscience but maybe also realign his karma. He wasn't very superstitious, but he'd take what he could get. This past week, he'd been in a sort of slump, and he was hoping he could kick himself out of it.

So far, it seemed like his best chance was this party tonight. He'd signed up for it absentmindedly, at the time figuring it would be a good way to meet the people in his apartment. So far, he hadn't gone out of his way to really meet people, and he thought it was about time he get out a bit. Now, though, while he was nursing a hangover and a very heavy feeling of disappointment, he wasn't sure it was a good idea to go.

The only reason he was even getting ready for the party was due to the fact that he'd offered to help with the barbecue. And maybe a little bit because he liked the idea of getting to cook for other minus the awkward having to know each other part. He figured he'd owed it to Bert, since he'd been late with rent and payments up until he'd gotten hired at the Pink Barrel. Bert hadn't given him too hard a time, and for the first time in a while, Nick felt like he was catching a break.

Nick was definitely into layers, especially at this time of year. He was always cold if the temperature was under seventy degrees, and the party was outside in February. He grabbed a [url=https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/2937/1272/products/product-image-471203980_2000x.jpg?v=1518491621]jean jacket[/url] and layered it over a solid black hoodie, grabbing black jeans and mid-calf boots. It was comfortable, but didn't look like he'd just rolled out of bed. He definitely felt like it though. He ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times to get it to lie flat before leaving his apartment.

He went to the roof to find Bert, and caught him in the middle of a conversation with what he assumed to be another tenant. [color=98b8a3]"Hey, Bert. I'm here to help with the barbecue, or anything else you need done."[/color]