Why did I even agree to this?

           Here I am, sitting in Ace's car, getting a ride to my night job....

          I've heard a lot about this guy. He's been one of the black sheep at this school. He's often dragged to the counselor's office due to his temper, known to be disrupting this whole hierarchy thing we have going on at school. Spends most of his time in the corner of class, listening to music or writing in some sort of notebook.

        Maybe I shouldn't be so quick to judge Ace, we never spoke to one another until now.

         He was the first to knock Ryker Harris out which proved Ace to be a really powerful fighter.

          You shouldn't be so quick to judge someone, you're no better.

          I turn my head to face Ace who was just driving while the wind whipped through his hair. "You didn't have to give me a ride..." I begun, trying to spark up a conversation.

         "You didn't have to accept it either." Ace shot back without looking at me. His tone full of disinterest.

         That's fair.

         I bite my tongue to avoid saying something to anger him. "I appreciate it." I said, trying to be nice.

          Ace lets out a frustrated sigh before turning the wheel. "Look. You don't need to be nice to me. I know what the others say about me. Just do what comes naturally." Ace shrugged.

           I raise my eyebrows at him. "You haven't given me a reason to not be nice to you." I add.

          "Lyric right?" Ace repeats my name off his tongue. He had a New York accent for sure. He glances my way, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

          "One and only." I respond with some sort of fake enthusiasm. I gaze out the window at the flashing lights of buildings and gas stations.

           "You're seventeen?" Ace asked me. What is this? An interrogation.

            A wave of irritation hits me, "I didn't know that we were playing twenty questions." I said as I tapped my fingers along the seatbelt.

             For a split second I could see Ace's glare, but it quickly facades. "I just find it weird that a seventeen year old girl is working at a night club." Ace joked unenthusiastically as he makes the final stop at the club.

             My eyes bulged a little as my heart rammed itself against my ribcage, I rip my gaze off of the skyline view from the window and shifted it towards Ace.

            I don't know who the hell this guy is, nor do I care. But he knew my secret...if my other boss finds out that I'm underage, it's over.

             I find myself talking almost instantly, "You can't say anything." I plead, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

             Ace glances at me, his eyebrows knitted together. "Okay? I don't own the damn club, I'm no narc." Ace reassures me, his hand crept up to the cupholders over to mine as if he was trying to comfort me, but he instinctively jerks his hand away. I wince a little. Was he trying to calm me down?
 
             "Thank you." Was all I could say.

             Nervously, my hand snaked it's way to the door handle, sliding it open. My eyes never left Ace as I slowly climbed out of his car.

             "I'll pay you-" I try to search my pockets of my damp uniform but Ace cuts me off. "Go." He said, his tone urging me.

             I let a small grin creep across my lips as I gently closed the door, I turn around, drawing in a deep breath of the crisp autumn air.

             Suddenly the loud trap beat music that echoed from The Grind brought me back to reality like a slap in the face.

             Don't feel special now. He just gave your broke ass a ride.

             Ignoring Lyra's crude comment, I continued my way through the other side of the building of The Grind. Nathan's jacket didn't help much thanks to the persistent wind.

             At the corner of my peripheral I could see a jeep parked in the employee's parking lot. I've never seen it before.

             I quickly dismissed the thoughts and fears that threatened to cloud my mind and I continued my way through the back door. The heavy beat of the music radiated off the floor.

             Soon as I finished getting changed, I traveled my way through the raging crowd full of sweat and cheap perfume and over to the bar that was in it's designated corner. Two women were already sitting at the booth, their eyes glued to their phones.

             I slowly start to prepare the bar.

             "Yeah, that woman is like thirty-thirty four? What's she doing out here? What man would wanna fuck a damn old junkie bitch?" One woman gossips behind me, I pay no mind as I start to rinse off the shot glasses that underneath me.

             "Who would want some old pussy when there's plenty of fresh, clean ones?" The other woman retorts as she loudly smacks her gum, irritating me in the process.

             "Like when is she ever sober? Everytime we see her in the streets she's on something...like damn girl, you might as well just name your kids Hennessy and Heroin since they've all been through your bloodstream before!" The other girl jeers followed with a high pitch laugh.

             My hands were now trembling with glasses in each one, my fists were clenched tightly. I knew exactly who they were talking shit about and what they're saying is somewhat true.

              The woman with the high pitched laugh slams her on the countertop.  "Hey chick! You're supposed to be serving us the drinks! Are you deaf?" She complains as her long, acrylic nails tapped rhythmically against the counter.

               No, you just didn't ask you entitled bitch. The fuck does this look like? The last time I checked we're in Philly, not Hollywood.

             Quickly, I brushed Lyra's crude comment away and start mixing their drinks.