‘A cosmopolitan, please,’ Stacey asked, passing across the last of her wages.
It had been a tiring week at work, and she wanted to spend something on herself for once. When she was eighteen, it was her go to drink. Maybe she could get another job. One where she could afford to buy food as well as paying the rent.
She downed the glass of blue liquid, and looked at the notice behind the bar. Staff wanted, no experience necessary. A new start, and a new job. She wasn’t afraid to ask the manager, the alcohol warmed her insides like a life jacket.
With another chance, she could get back on her feet.