Chapter Text
The clock ticks by on the wall so slowly, it drives her crazy. The paperwork on her desk was never-ending, piles and piles making a mess everywhere. You could almost not see her beyond the stacks. The clacking of her keyboard was irritating, the silence around her from her coworkers who all got to leave earlier than her was even worse.
Why was her boss always harder on her than everyone else?
She worked hard every day, harder than she’s ever seen her other coworkers work. She always managed to get everything filed by the end of the week, emails sent and answered at the end of every day. She was usually the last one out of the office.
Her coworkers didn’t like her, and her boss liked her even less. She wondered how she hasn’t been fired yet, but her hard work spoke for itself. She was more productive than half of the staff at the company. No doubt that the company was more organized and making more money with her around. Stocks were going up and the CEO was cashing in.
She was losing sleep working so hard, and she was barely making enough to pay for her apartment in the slums, with no promotion or anything to show for it. It was a dead-end desk job with no hope of success. When she first started she thought there might be a chance to go up in the company, but those hopes were dashed the first time her boss called her an airhead. And the insults just kept on coming.
She looks at the corner of her monitor, noting that it was now 2 hours past her shift. Everyone had been out of the office for hours now. Even her piece of shit boss would be at home in his luxury penthouse, sipping wine and having steak for dinner, while she sat at her little cubicle sending emails to potential business partners and clients, filing documents, keeping the office organized.
She sighs, turning off the monitor and standing up from her slightly broken, uncomfortable chair. She stretches, hearing a loud pop in her spine that felt really good to get out. She grabs her bag from under the desk and heads out, turning the lights off and locking up before she leaves. The rest of the stack of papers on her desk remains untouched.
A problem for future me.
After getting into the car, she drove to her dingy apartment, music blaring through her speakers. She wanted to go to the bar, but knew better than to drive because if she was going to drink, she was going to drink a lot. At this point she didn’t care how irresponsible it was to get wasted all alone, with no ride, in a place that was still very unfamiliar to her, in an area some would consider “the warzone”.
She would have called up a friend to drink with, if she had one. Instead, she decided to drink alone. She made no friends after she moved here. The only people she talked to consistently enough were her insufferable coworkers, who all disliked her for whatever reason. She still couldn’t tell why.
It wasn’t like she was mean, or cranky. She did a good job at work, spoke in a friendly manner to her coworkers, smiling warmly. They always shot her looks of disgust, sneering at her, or just flat out ignoring her.
After a while, she stopped caring. The only thing that got on her nerves was how hard her boss worked her, for such little pay, with no hope of that promotion she desperately wanted. The promotion she deserved.
Part of her began to regret moving here with the idea of a better life. Sure, her life back home was nothing short of miserable. Old friends who turned into snakes, family that disowned her and labeled her a failure, an apartment that was falling apart just as much as she was, with mold growing on the ceiling and a disgusting roach problem that no amount of poison would solve.
So, maybe her life was a little better here, in this unfamiliar place. Yet now, she was losing sleep, and making mistakes. She thought about looking for another job several times, filled out applications since her simple desk job was in jeopardy with the looming threat of layoffs (if it hadn’t been solved by her hard work and getting the stock up in the company). But nowhere ever called her back. It seemed like she was doomed to be a paper-pusher for the rest of her sad life.
Maybe she should have gone to law school like her parents wanted.
She parks her car in a spot somewhat close to her apartment building, pulling up the map on her phone to find the nearest bar. She thought there might be one close enough that she could just walk there, even if her shoes had heels and her feet ached. She was used to it.
Just her luck, the closest one was a bar that was just a mile away. It would be about a thirty minute walk in the heels she was wearing, but right now she just didn’t care. She didn’t want to waste money on two taxis, because she would definitely at least need one to get home.
So, she made the painful one mile walk in her heels to her salvation, bag thrown over her shoulder.
She makes it to the bar by just after eight, slumping herself into an unoccupied bar seat, next to a ginger-haired man. The bartender takes her order, walking down the bar to make the drink. She let out a heavy sigh, leaning her head in her hand.
She failed to notice the ginger’s dull blue eyes looking at her sorry state.
Her hair was in a messy bun, falling out at this point from her walk. She was in her office clothes; a black pencil skirt, matching blazer, and gray top, with black tights and her black heels. She looked exhausted.
“Long day?”
She snaps out of her dissociation, looking at the ginger next to her. He had a warm smile, maroon dress shirt unbuttoned just enough to show his collar bones. His hair was slightly unruly, fluffy, falling just slightly in front of his freckled face as he tilted his head to the side. “M-me?”
He laughs softly, and it’s the most wonderful sound, she thinks. “Yeah, you look tired.”
“Yeah, I probably do, huh,” she sighs, looking away at the bar top. The bartender brings her the drink, setting it down in front of her before walking away. She takes a long drink, enjoying the sweet burn of it down her throat. It sits warm in her stomach, but it’s not enough. It won’t be enough until she’s had so many drinks her thoughts cease.
“Whiskey?” He leans against the bar top, fingers ghosting over his own glass. It has a clear liquor in it, topped with fizz and a cherry. A vodka soda, she assumes. “Must have been a bad day to drink such a harsh liquor. You look like a fruit-cocktail type of girl to me.”
“Needed hard liquor after today,” she shakes her head, looking back at the man who’s decided he would be her companion, at least for the moment. “But I can’t say I object to fruity cocktails. I used to drink them a lot back home.”
“Not from here?”
“Nope,” she pops the p as she swirls the whiskey in the glass, ice clanking with the movement. “Came here for the prospect of a better life. But the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. Everywhere has its problems.”
He just nods, taking a drink of his own drink. She thinks the conversation has run its course as the silence settles in, and she continues to drink. She stares at the little bit of whiskey left in her glass sadly when the man speaks up again.
“I’m Ajax. You?”
She looks up at him to see that he’s looking at her again, waiting for her to introduce herself. She smiles for the first time in a long time, tapping her nail against the glass. “(Y/N).”
“(Y/N),” he repeats, smiling that beautiful smile again. She thinks he’s straight out of a dream, and it crosses her mind that maybe she never went to the bar. Maybe she went up to her apartment and passed out in bed, imagining herself talking to someone in a bar for once. Damn, I’m lonely. “Pretty name. What are you doing all alone at a bar like this? Are you waiting for some coworkers to meet you or something?”
She snorts mid-drink, almost choking. She shakes her head, setting the glass down. “No, no. I don’t…” she pauses, biting her lip. “It’s embarrassing to admit but after all the months I’ve been living here, I still don’t have any friends. I guess I’m pretty unapproachable.”
“I think you’re quite lovely,” his eyes darken a little and he leans toward her, muttering just loud enough for her to hear, “but that’s not something you should go admitting to just anyone, you know.”
She swallows thickly, glancing at him from her peripherals. He leans away again, that same smile etched into his skin. It seems a little more sinister than it did before. “Don’t worry, though! I’ll be your friend, and I’ll keep any unsavory people away, so just enjoy yourself!” He chuckles, waving down the bartender for another drink, and ordering another one of what she had. “You look like you need it.”
She should be scared of what he said, should throw the cash down onto the bar top and turn tail, run in her heels the mile back to her apartment, but she doesn’t. She stays put in that seat, next to the threatening ginger, lets him order her another drink. She was here to get wasted, after all. If something happened to her, did she really care? Her life was going nowhere. It was dull and boring and all she did every day was file paperwork, take phone calls, send emails. And every day was the same.
Fuck it. I deserve to let loose a little. Even if this man is a complete stranger.
“Yeah, I do.” The bartender comes back with two drinks, and she gladly takes it. She takes a small sip this time, humming sadly as she sets the glass back down. “Ajax, was it?”
He hums, taking a swig of his own drink.
“I know that we just met, but do you think I could vent to you about some things?” She asks shyly, a blush creeping up onto her face. She decides not to look at him, opting to look at her scuffed heels. “I don’t have anyone else.”
“Of course,” he nearly purrs, eyes glued to that cute blush on her cheeks. Oh, how lucky he was to meet such a lovely thing in a place so grungy like this. She almost didn’t belong here. She looked too proper for this bar, even with her bun falling out of place, scuffed heels, one stocking falling down just below her skirt.
“Thank you,” she mutters, taking another drink before tracing her finger along the rim of the glass. She takes a big deep breath, then all of a sudden she blurts out, “I fucking hate my job.”
“Why don’t you quit?” He asks like it’s the most simple thing. She barks out a bitter laugh, shaking her head.
“I’ve been looking for another job, but nowhere calls me back. I can’t afford to quit my job, and what’s worse is I’m under the constant threat of layoffs. If I make myself useful to the company then at least I’ll have a little job security,” she huffs, leaning her elbow against the bar top and letting her head drop into her hand. “But my boss is a fucking jerk, and no matter how hard I work, the promotion I’m aiming for is always out of my reach. Not to mention he hates me, and my coworkers hate me.”
“I came here thinking I’d find a better opportunity than what I was given back home. And while that may have been somewhat true, this job does pay better than the one I had back then, that doesn’t change the fact that I’m always walking on thin ice,” she glares down at the ice in her glass before she picks it up and downs the rest of it in one go.
Ajax looks at her with concern as she does. She wipes her mouth with her blazer sleeve, letting out a soft breath. “And I’m just as alone here as I was there.”
At least there I was familiar with where I was.
“I thought a fresh start was what I needed,” she lets her hands drop to her lap, picking at her nails under the bar top where Ajax couldn’t see. “Maybe I was wrong.”
“Do you want to know what I think?” Ajax asks, picking up the cherry from his drink and dropping it into his mouth. She hums and nods as he finishes chewing it. “I think a fresh start is definitely what you needed. You just have yet to meet the right people to get what you want.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. You’ve been here, what, a few months? Everything takes time to get moving the way you want it to,” he hums, twisting the cherry stem between his fingers. He drops it on the napkin in front of him before reaching out to his glass to take another drink. “I don’t know what your life was like before you came here, but I’m willing to bet that leaving for that fresh start was probably for the best. Hell, you’re probably just a few weeks from that promotion you mentioned!”
“That’s pretty wishful thinking, Ajax,” she laughs lightly, shaking her head. She smiles wistfully, rubbing the back of her hands. “Leave it to me to be seeking advice and reassurance in my poor decisions from a stranger.”
“Isn’t everyone you meet technically a stranger, when you’re not from around here?” He smirks, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Well, kind of,” she bites her lip, bringing a hand up to rub at her eyes. “But don’t you usually only have conversations like these after you get to know someone?”
“A lot of people pour their hearts out when they’re drunk at a bar. It’s not that strange,” he chuckles, slamming the rest of his drink much like she did. He leans onto one elbow, tapping his fingers on the bar top. “How about another drink? On me. And we can talk about something a little less depressing, like ourselves. Since you want to get to know me.”
She blushes and nods, not wanting to decline his polite offer. Plus, even though he was kind of strange, a bit talkative, and something sinister hid behind those beautiful eyes and charming smile, she couldn’t ignore the fact that for once she actually had the opportunity to make a friend in this god-forsaken place she brought herself to. She would be a fool to decline this offer, wouldn’t she?
Or maybe it would have been smart to decline.
Ajax orders another round of drinks for them, scooting just a little closer to her. She doesn’t notice his movement, just tracing circular patterns into the bar top. “So,” he starts as the bartender appears with two more drinks, setting them in front of the two. “What made you decide to come to Snezhnaya, of all places?”
“There are a few reasons. First, it’s really far from my home country,” she takes a small drink, relishing in the way it builds up warmth with the previous two drinks in her system. She was starting to feel the tipsiness hit her, her head getting a little fuzzy. “And I like the cold. Plus, I’ve always wanted to live in a big city like this, even if my apartment has a crappy view. It’s still better than where I was living before. Added bonus that anyone who might come looking for me from my past won’t ever find me here.”
“Oh? Are you running for something, girlie?” He coos, sipping leisurely on his drink. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head furiously, realizing how it sounds.
“N-no! I just- I had some less than stellar old friends that might want to reconnect or something and I just… didn’t want that,” her voice trails off, face red from embarrassment and alcohol. He laughs, eyes crinkling at the edges as he does.
“I’m just teasing you,” his voice is syrupy and sweet, and only now does she notice that he’s close enough that she can smell his cologne, and the vodka on his breath. “You seem like a good girl, of course you wouldn’t be running from anything like that.”
What is he implying when he says that?
“So, what about you, Ajax?”
“Hm?” He still has that sweet smirk on his face, leaning in close. She doesn’t notice how his eyes look behind them at the other patrons, or how one arm goes to wrap around the back of her seat.
“Are you from Snezhnaya? Or did you come here like I did?”
“Oh, I’m from Snezhnaya, but not this city, specifically,” he hums. “I’m from a little seaside village, pretty far from here. Have family out there. I came for work. Nothing really exciting.”
“Oh, are you close with your family?” She asks, looking back at him with glossy eyes. Yeah, the alcohol was definitely hitting her now.
“Yes! I love my family,” he beams, smiling wide. He looks away, down at his drink. “It’s huge, I’m the middle of six kids in my house. My mama and papa took great care of us as kids. I promised them that once I left I would help them in any way I could, to repay them for how they raised me. I send them a big portion of my earnings each time I get paid, and when I go home to visit I always bring gifts for my little brothers and sister.”
“That’s sweet of you,” she says quietly, fondly looking into her own glass.
“Haha, I’m glad you think so,” he blushes. She glances up at him to see his face is tinged slightly red, and she assumes it’s from the alcohol, like hers. “Do you have family back home? I know you said earlier that you didn’t have anyone.”
“I mean, I have family. As for if I’m close to them, that’s a hard no.” She sighs, taking another drink from her nearly forgotten whiskey. “My parents think I’m a failure, and the rest of my family despises me too. I’m a black sheep in the family. Everyone shuns me. Not too far off from how everyone else treats me, now that I think about it.”
“Maybe that’s why I feel like I can get along well with you,” Ajax mutters lowly, looking at her from beneath his eyelashes. “Because you’re a black sheep.”
“Yeah? Are you a shepherd with a flock of black sheep, then?” She giggles to herself, closing her eyes. Her heart beats hard against her rib cage noticing the way he looks at her. I’m just imagining it.
“I suppose,” he huffs a laugh, hiding his face behind his glass as he takes a drink. “Never really thought about it that way before. I thought I was more of a black sheep myself, if I’m honest.”
“But you’re close to your family? Surely they don’t see you that way?”
“Well, sure, they love me and I love them dearly too. But I was a bit of a trouble maker back home as a teenager. Just because we’re close doesn’t mean I fit in with them.” He smiles sadly down at his distorted reflection in the glass. “But you’re right. I’m probably more of a shepherd than a sheep!”
“A shepherd with a flock of black sheep!”
“Haha, yeah, I guess so,” he chuckles, taking a drink. She’s so damn cute.
She takes another drink, finishing off the rest of her third glass. She sighs longingly, looking up at Ajax with a fondness in her eyes that makes his heart almost stop. “I really enjoyed talking to you tonight, Ajax. You made my shitty night a lot better. Thank you.”
“Of course, pretty girl,” he hums warmly, tapping his finger against the back of her seat. “Leaving now?”
“Yeah, I should go. I have to work again tomorrow and finish up everything I didn’t get done tonight,” she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I’ll probably have a killer hangover in the morning, but it was worth it to meet you, and talk to you for a while.”
“Let me take you home.”
“O-oh, no, it’s okay, I was just going to call a cab to bring me home,” she stutters, clutching her hands together. “You’ve already done a lot for me tonight.”
“Then let me call you a cab. I’ll pay the fee,” he offers, pulling his phone from his pocket.
“Y-you really don’t have to-“
“I don’t mind,” he smiles, typing into his phone before calling up the cab. “And don’t worry, I’ll pay for your drinks tonight too, so just get home safe, lovely.”
“U-um, thank you,” She mutters, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “You’re really too kind. I-I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, pocketing his phone. “The cab will be outside in about ten minutes. I’ll wait with you to make sure it gets here.”
“Okay,” she nods, standing next to Ajax as he pays the bill for the drinks they shared. He offers her his arm, walking out of the bar with her as she sways a little with her movements. It’s embarrassing, but she leans on Ajax a bit as her eyes feel heavy while they wait in comfortable silence.
Ajax pretends like he doesn’t feel her lean into his side, loving the way she feels against him. He wonders what it would be like to hold her in his arms, to feel her soft, delicate hands against his chest, against his face.
He just hoped he would get to see her again. He would have to come to this bar more often if she might be there.
She starts to hum absently, a tune completely unfamiliar to him. He can’t help the smile that graces his face, savoring every minute of her sweet hums and gentle sway. She leans into him a little more, stumbling slightly. He wraps an arm around her to steady her, and she mumbles an apology.
He chuckles, rubbing her side gently. The cab pulls to a stop in front of them and the driver rolls down the passenger window, “Mr. Tartaglia?”
“Yeah, it’s a ride for her,” Ajax gestures to the woman leaning against him drunkenly. “Hey, lovely, your ride is here.”
“Mmhm,” she nods, detaching herself from his side to get in. He opens the door to the backseat for her and helps her inside, smiling at her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, pretty girl,” he says as he shuts the door, moving to lean into the front window to speak directly to the driver. “Get her home safely. Here,” he pulls out his wallet and hands the man a stack of cash.
“Thank you, sir,” he nods, rolling up the window as Ajax steps back onto the sidewalk. The driver pockets the cash and turns to the drunk girl in his backseat. “So, where to?”
She gives him her address, and he turns back to the road, putting the cab in drive and taking off. Ajax waves goodbye as the cab leaves, then puts his hands in his pockets as he sighs, turning to walk down the street in the opposite direction.
She’s back to the complex in a matter of minutes, getting out of the cab and stumbling to the stairs leading to her apartment. The cab driver asks if she’d like some help up to her apartment, but she declines, saying she’s fine. At the bottom of the steps, she reaches down to slip off her heels, thinking it would be easier to climb the four flights of stairs barefoot instead of in the damn heels.
It takes her longer than usual to get up to her apartment, but once she’s finally inside, she locks the bottom lock, the deadbolt, and slides the chain in place. She drops her bag onto the floor, throwing her heels next to them. She pulls her hair from the tie and lets it down, shaking it out before she stumbles to the bedroom, flopping onto the bed.
She’s asleep before she can even put the blanket over herself.