The bar smelled of sweat, smoke and desperation. Friday nights were always like this. Smoke billowing and thousands of disco lights dancing on the walls, but they had no effect on Meera. She was working like a machine, amid the smell of alcohol, the noise of voices, and the clinking of bottles and glasses. The music was loud and the men were louder, tips were negligible.
It had been six months since she had started this job. Meera had never imagined that her life would be like this at the age of 23. But when responsibilities grow faster than dreams, options start to look like cages. Mother's surgery, younger brother's school fees, and the rent of a damp room, all these do not wait.
She bent down and picked up a bottle of Glenlivet. Her fingers were heavy with fatigue, her feet were aching. But she did not stop her pace. The sooner the work was over, the sooner she could go home.
Just two more hours.
and then he came in with a huge crowd. A crowd of rich people making noise and enjoying their freedom as privilege. From a distance, it seemed that these were the people no one would want to fight with. Their leader was–
Ryan Khanna.
Meera's spine stiffened at the mention of his name. Ryan Khanna… spoiled, arrogant, and heir to a sprawling media empire. A face splashed across tabloids, celebrated for charm, never held accountable for the wreckage he left behind. His father's ads painted every corner of the city, his voice echoed through radio jingles like the city was his personal stage. Everyone knew his history..drunken brawls, violent tantrums, entitled power plays… yet nothing ever touched him. Not the law. Not guilt. Not consequence.
She ignored him as he walked towards the bar. Maybe he would just have a drink, flirt a bit and leave. Or maybe he wouldn't tease her tonight. She didn't like Ryan at all, he was short-tempered, unpredictable and unruly which made him scary.
"Scotch, neat," he said, snapping his fingers. There was command in his voice.
She did not react, just made the drink, placed it on the counter, and said nothing.
He bowed. "No smile today? Not even a 'Thank you, Sir'?"
She looked at him, her face completely expressionless. "Sir, do you want a receipt along with the drinks?"
His friends laughed, rich men wearing expensive watches that cost more than her rent. But Ryan didn't laugh. His smile paused for a few moments. She noticed. And she realized she might have made a mistake.
"You think you're something, huh?" he said quietly.
She regained her composure, smiled and said-"Thank you Sir, would you like anything else?"
He kept staring. The mischief in his eyes was now changing into something else..something cold, something dangerous. Meera looked away. Her heart began to beat faster. The rest of the night passed in a blur. Her hands began to move faster. She did not look at him again, but felt his burning gaze on her back.
It was 2 am, time to close the bar. But Ryan and his group were not getting up. The crowd had thinned, the music had slowed. It was time to leave but she could not leave as long as Ryan was seated. But none of the staff had the courage to say anything to Ryan. Meera called a bouncer who was responsible for crowd control inside and gestured to him to shoo Ryan away. He shrugged his shoulders and said softly, "I tried but he is not getting up."
While the two were still whispering, Ryan came staggering to her and in a slurred voice asked for another bottle of liquor.
She looked at him and said with great respect, lowering her eyes, "Sorry Sir, it is time for the bar to close and you have drunk more than the limit, so according to the rules, I can not give you more alcohol."
Ryan got angry- "What are you talking about huh? What rules? Who made them? I make my own rules. Now listen carefully and I will not repeat it, quietly bring my order to my table, within two minutes or else you will be on that table and that too without... well, you get the idea."
Saying this, he patted his hand on the counter indicating to hurry up and turned to walk towards his seat.
Her blood was boiling, first she had to work so hard and then she had to face such humiliation. She looked inside and found that the scotch was finished. Beer was still in stock. Her blood froze, she did not want to tell this to Ryan at all,She didn't trust what he'd do. She looked sideways at Tony standing next to her, he also looked tearful. They did not know what to do.
Then Ryan and his friends started banging the table and shouting "Scotch! Scotch!" loudly.
The bouncers did not have the courage to go and talk to him. Tony was trying to call the bar manager.
Meera whispered, "We should call the police. Something feels wrong. I'm feeling faint."
Tony replied, "If we call the cops, his father will shut this place down. You go inside. I'll handle it."
Meera turned to leave when a loud glass smash made her stop. Ryan was back at the counter. Standing right in front of Tony.
"You people can't even do one job properly. What's taking so long?"
Tony- "Sir, actually the scotch is finished. We are trying to get another stock, it will take some time. We have beer, if you want, we can serve it to you right away."
Ryan was surprised, tilted his neck a little to the left and said with a light dangerous smile on his lips- "You guys are not afraid of me? Right?…..Well….you should"
Then suddenly he took out his gun and pointed it straight at Tony, and said in a slow but in a chilling voice, "I want scotch....Now...Or you'll taste a bullet."