Winding Down at the Bar

Misty sat up on the bar stool, feet hovering a few inches from the floor. Hours spent in the hot kitchen with Kalama drained her (no offense to her mentor), and she needed to unwind. Various bottles caught her eye. Some brands she didn’t recognize immediately, but she knew for sure they were all expensive. Though... maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to drink. Kalama wanted her back in the kitchen tomorrow morning; she wouldn’t be pleased with a hungover Misty. However, water wasn’t enough to sate her. She craved something —

“Long day huh?”

“Oh! Um, yeah — yeah it was a lot,” Misty stammered, her mindless stare broken by the sudden question. It was the ship’s interior designer, Tab, who asked, and... they’re bartending? “Nothing too bad though; Chef was able to get free reign of the menu.“

Still wiping the shot glasses with a towel, Tab listened on. “Lucky you, heh. Guessing Ms. Kanotea got a word in with Paulo?” She gave a small nod. “Thought so. Thank the gods she isn’t fucked like them.”

“Sounds like you had a problem with them too.” Seeing them stop cleaning for a second, she quickly added: “You don’t have to say if you don’t want to. I just, um, thought.”

They put a glass down on the wood counter to wave their now free hand. “Nah, it’s cool, uh... what’s your name? Kalama told me, but I forgot. My bad.”

“Misty. She/her.”

“Misty, gotcha. Tab, anything works for me. Now, what was I gonna say... oh yeah, you’re right.

“Paulo gave me a really, really hard time designing the suites. They wanted the bathrooms to be made with some... gem I forgot the name of. Lapis... malachite? One of those. I should remember, because one of them's toxic in water. And they demanded that all the rooms be painted bright, godawful colors — I’m talking lime and bright yellow, shit that’d make your eyes burn!”

Misty snorted at the thought. “Good thing they didn't turn out that way, heh. I checked out one of the rooms before my shift started, and they’re nice.”

They smiled, and they thanked her for the compliment. Tab turned to look at the drinks resting on the shelves. “Anything I can get for you? I’m guessing you didn’t just come here to talk — saw you looking at the strong stuff.”

Misty shook her head. “Oh, no, I don’t want those. Maybe something without any alcohol, if that’s okay with you — gotta be here tomorrow. I’ll let you decide, too tired to think, ahah.”

Tab nodded and fixed their teal hair up into a ponytail with the hair tie they took off their wrist. They bent down to grab two bottles, fruit, and a glass from under the counter.

While they got to work making her order, someone pushed through the kitchen doors. Misty thought that that was Kalama, possibly also stressed from the busy work day. Instead, it was a different person who slumped onto the stool next to her and buried its head in its arms. She stared as it groaned, voice muffled.

Misty’s eyes darted back at Tab, raising a brow at the new visitor. Without a word, Tab handed her the cocktail, a strawberry daiquiri, and she nodded in gratitude.

“Is it Paulo?” they simply asked, eyeing the vodka.

There was another long, drawn out moan. By the time it finished, it lifted its head up to look at Tab with a grimace. Their expression remained unchanged, knowing its scowl wasn’t directed at them. “Stupid fucking orders, fucker making me memorize long lists of horseshit, gods above why can’t they eat something simple for dinner? Or ask Burr? He’d do it in a fucking heartbeat. But no, fucking Paulo wants me to tell the kitchen staff to make them some fuckawful gold... leaf... steak... thing with — with fucking COTTON CANDY. Why the FUCK would you eat meat with cotton candy?! That shit is disgusting and doesn’t make sense theirtastebudsmustbefuckedbeyondbeliefUGH.”

It pulled its rust-colored cap down over its face and groaned... again.

“Yep, figured as much. Should I get you the usual?” Tab asked, hand hovering over the bottle of vodka.

Sighing, it took off the hat and ran a hand through its blue hair. “Mm, nah... not stressed enough for that. Just... just some rum will do.”

It turned to face Misty; the color drained from its visage. Unbeknownst to it, she sat there the whole time, listening to the rant. “Holy shit I am so sorry,” it managed to squeak out.

“Oh no, no, it’s okay! I understand — well not really but, you see, my boss, Chef, uh —“ it was Misty’s turn to groan, fumbling over her words.

She sighed.

“It’s been a long day in the kitchen.” Misty took off the bandana she wore for work, rubbing her thumb over fabric. “Cotton candy huh? I’m not surprised that Paulo was the one who ordered that.”

“Yeah, I’m real fuckin’ sorry for that last minute order,” it apologized, hands rubbing its face. Tab set the glass of rum down on the counter. “I know that shit pisses Kalama off, especially since I saw you all clearing down for the night, and I... uuuuuuuuuugh...”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You’re just doing your job.”

After finishing half the glass, it wiped its mouth with the white dress shirt sleeve. “Not wrong there. Oh, sorry for not telling you my name.” Putting the cap back on, it continued: “Ziri, she/xe/it.”

Misty introduced herself before taking a small sip from her daiquiri. “If you’re fine with me asking, what do you do here?”

Still downing the rest of the rum, it gestured at Tab to explain. “Xe and xyr siblings serve Paulo — getting drinks and food for them, doing chores, that kinda work.”

Ziri put the drink down on the counter, pushing it closer to Tab. “Have been for…” it counted with its fingers. “Gods how long, ten… twelve… years? At least a decade. Longer than Anahera, and before my… ugh, boss, had the bright idea of owning a cruise. All that time spent with the fucker yet I still don’t have a goddamn clue how and why they thought of that.”

She stopped mid-sip and blinked, eyes wide. “That long? …Shit —” Misty gasped, covering her mouth. “Oh gods I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to swear, I’m just, uh, that’s — that really surprised me.”

Both Tab and Ziri snickered. “You’re fine, you’re fine,” they reassured while refilling Ziri’s glass. “If it means anything, that threw me for a loop too.”

“Kinda funny watching how people act all surprised when I drop that.” It put the rum to its lips. “Working for a billionaire CEO for a decade? Me and my sibs must be filthy rich!” Ziri took a swig and placed the glass down on the counter.

Sensing tension in the air, Tab’s expression grew serious. “I can see where this is heading... “ Instead of pouring more rum, they handed it ice water. Looking at Misty, they warned: “Shit might get heavy. I’d suggest —”

As if knowing what they were about to say, Misty shook her head. “I’m fine, I wanna listen.” She swirled her half-empty daiquiri around. “Besides, I’m not done finishing this.”

Tab shrugged and tentatively took Ziri’s empty glass. “Your call. I can’t exactly stop xyr when xe’s about to…” though their sentence trailed off, they gestured at it, assuming she’d be able to figure it out.

“WELL, when you’re working for a piece of SHIT like Mx. I-Need-Everyone-On-Hangarin-To-Know-How-Huge-My-Fucking-Ego-Is, it doesn’t work like that! And — and who the FUCK cares if we got money? Doesn’t mean SHIT!”

Misty turned around to see if anyone heard, but despite the huge space, it was just the three of them. She sighed with relief. On the other hand, Tab’s expression remained unchanged. They must’ve been subject to Ziri’s venting multiple times, she assumed.

“Had Burr never gone out that day we never would’ve been in this mess to fucking begin with,” it spat. “Hearing him talk about how great that — that rocks for brains is, gods, how can he fucking say that shit?! They took us from the only other family we had!”

Tab exhaled and poured a glass of water for themself.

Misty’s hand wavered back and forth. Should she console it with a pat on the shoulder? Or would she make things awkward? After all, she and Ziri just met. But she felt bad; barely reacting wasn’t right in her eyes.

“I’m sorry to hear. Sounds awful…” She grabbed her drink and took a sip.

The small validation Misty gave Ziri signaled it to go ahead. “It was.” It requested more rum from Tab, but they resisted, pointing at the water, condensation dripping down the sides and ice melting into nothing. Once it hydrated, it continued: “Okay yeah, all three of us can afford fancy shit. Big whoop. Stupid table slammer never let us visit our parents or our auncle. We were fine before they fucking... forced their shitty buttchin into our lives.”

Misty snorted at the latest insult, but the hilarity lasted for a small moment, replaced with the previous, more serious one. “Table slammer?”

“Oooooh yeah…” Tab took another deep breath, sharply exhaling. “You’ve never seen them pissed?”

She shook her head from side to side. “Chef told me Paulo’s been angry at her a few times, but no, I haven’t seen that myself.”

“Damn, I envy you; you got lucky.” Ziri downed the rest of its water. “Betting you’ve seen their stupid grin plastered all over the papers about the cruise, saying… saying some profound shit. But ohhhhh that’s just a front.

“You haven’t seen or heard the shit they say. Literally telling them they can’t have some limited-edition, decades old wine because it’s sold out or whatever will have them throwing a fucking tantrum. Their way is the right way, and you can’t convince them otherwise.”

It paused.

“Well, Anahera can. But she’s Anahera, their right-hand, their second in command. And she always has to appease them — always. Y’know that menu you and Kalama are working on?”

Misty swirled the daiquiri around with her straw. “Uh huh?”

“Rock Fucker was having a hissy fit in front of me and my sister Dawn about it earlier today. Neither of us couldn’t say shit, ‘cause they’d kick our asses if we did! Anahera had to tell ‘em, ‘But boss, if the passengers don’t like the food, it could damage your reputation! More people would support your cruise and the company as a whole if you catered to their wants and needs!’ Gods I wanted to slap Paulo and tell them to shut the fuck up and let Kalama and the rest of the kitchen do their thing.”

Ziri peered over its shoulder. No one else heard, just Tab and Misty. “Whew,” it sighed. “Wanted to make sure my sib didn’t hear that.”

Other sib… other sib… she didn’t think it meant Dawn...

“Burr you said his name was?” Misty piped up.

“Yep, him.” It held up a finger quickly. “One sec.”

Trying again, Ziri requested another glass of rum from Tab. Instead they dropped ice into the glass and poured water. It groaned, but relented, drinking and chewing on a big piece of ice. “Burr’s xyr older sib,” they explained. Remembering the half-empty bottle of rum sitting on the bar, before Ziri could ask, they put it back on the shelf. “I dunno much about him. He’s been here three times I think? Doesn’t say much though.”

“Really? The fucker blabs on and on about Paulo in our quarters — even tries to enforce whatever bullshit rules they put in place!” Ziri cleared its throat and put on a deep, sophisticated sounding voice. “‘But Mx. Paulo demands we do this, not that.’ You can’t be fucking serious, we’re on break for gods’ sakes! You don’t need to uphold that shit when we’re not working! I swear, some of the shit he says makes me question why I’m even related to him in the first place.”

Both Tab and Misty sensed the poison spat from its mouth the second it said that. For the first time that night, she saw worry on their face. “Hey, that’s…”

Ziri’s hands trembled, so it placed the empty glass down on the counter, far from it. Tab picked it up and placed it in the sink. “HE’S the reason why we’re stuck with Paulo! I know I said this already but our family was FINE without them in our lives! Piece of shit Burr always tells me and Dawn, ‘But you should be GRATEFUL that we have a better home!’ Better? BETTER?!” Hot tears stung its cheeks. “You’re telling ME being forced to serve a miserable douchebag CEO is BETTER than the lives we had with Mom and Dad and Auncle Cam?! How can — how can he fucking say that...”

Against her better judgement, Misty reached out to pat Ziri’s back. It didn’t recoil or tell her to stop, so she kept going. “That’s messed up…”

“And he has the fucking gall to — to — to fucking say he misses our family. Our auncle was the only family we had after our PARENTS DIED.”

It sobbed even harder into its arms, snot and tears staining the dress shirt sleeves. Tab placed a small pile of tissues by its side.

“Oh… oh gods… I’m sorry…” That was all Misty could say, voice soft, barely audible. Other thoughts swirling around her head she pushed back, fearing they’d make things worse. Insulting Burr, suggesting he wanted to work for Paulo for a reason, saying Ziri’s parents would be happy with where it and its sibs were in life, none of those would help.

Ziri picked up a tissue, wiped her eyes, and blew into it. “Right before me and my sibs ended up with Paulo, Auncle Cam got sick and they couldn’t get outta bed. Then — then Dawn did too.” It wailed; more tears streamed down its cheeks. “I dunno what happened, but she also couldn’t get outta bed, and she had a hard time breathing. I still remember — I still remember how raspy her breathing sounded. Gods, I was so fucking scared that we were gonna lose our auncle and our baby sister. Every night I went to sleep, terrified that one day, neither of them would wake up.

“And one day, Burr went out to get groceries and more medicine for Auncle and Dawn. I dunno what fucking happened, but Table Slammer was at our doors the next day and declared they would be taking care of us from now on. Burr kept saying they came to help us, but when I asked them if they could help Auncle, they didn’t — they didn’t fucking answer! Just kept fucking claiming they weren’t fit to take care of us and after that day, that was the last we saw of Auncle Cam. Paulo never told us what happened, they didn’t let us visit our old apartment, nothing! Fucking NOTHING! For all I know, they could’ve fucking DIED and we wouldn’t have known! Do you realize how fucked up it is that we weren’t allowed to visit them, or — or for that matter, our PARENTS?!”

Misty could only rub Ziri’s back, and Tab handed it more tissues. Neither of them uttered a single word. Tab saw her eyes watering and bitten lip, fighting, trying to stay strong for this new person she just met. They gave her a tissue and a nod. Taking it in her hand, she thanked them, quiet enough to disguise her wavering voice.

“What kind of person keeps kids — KIDS — from seeing their family?! We were KIDS when they took us into their stupid mansion! And Burr has the goddamn NERVE to say Paulo did good?!”

After that, indistinct sobbing replaced its words, leaving Tab and Misty to console it in silence until Ziri stopped crying.

But until then, it left her alone with her thoughts, time to finally process what in gods’ names happened.

Misty spent most of the day in the kitchen, helping Kalama with the menu. It was busy work, especially with a passionate chef like her mentor. Once her shift finished, she headed to the ship’s bar for the first time. Pretty good so far, she met the person who designed the ship’s cabins, and they’re chill. They even served her a damn good daiquiri! While they were making her drink, someone new sat down next to her.

Her first impression was listening to it rant about the ship’s owner. Misty didn’t think of that as anything awful. However, she found it concerning that another person spoke ill of Paulo. Chef said that that’s something to get used to, but it’s been a few months since the day she first brought Misty along, and the long list of grievances many staff onboard had towards them still unnerved her. Both she and Ziri exchanged introductions… and it continued ranting.

Tab even advised her to leave. Gods, she should’ve listened and left. But she didn’t, and she had to pay for it by being forced to keep it together for the sake of some stranger who spilled its emotions and childhood trauma all over the bar. Misty’s a sous chef — not a therapist.

No… no. That’s not nice to think about. She shouldn’t harbor negative thoughts towards someone new. For all Misty knew, Ziri had a bad day and needed to unwind, just like her.

Misty was much too occupied contemplating that she didn’t notice a sniffling Ziri apologize and walk away from the bar.

What the hell was she supposed to do with this new, unwanted information? She had no desire to hear this after spending hours prepping in the cruise’s stuffy kitchen.

Gods above, what did she get herself into?