A Bar

A summer vacation abroad with your crush and best friend has landed you in a deep well of credit card debt. It was great while it lasted, but you spent a lot more money than you should have in order to make an impression. When you contacted your mom to tell her what happened, it wasn't pleasant. Your mother made it clear that you were now responsible for the payments and interest in full. She set a weekly financial goal and warned that missing even a single payment would result in dire consequences. One of her threats particularly piqued your interest: if you didn't pay up, she'd take away all of your clothes and spank you every morning.

Your mother's words linger in your mind. "I'll smack that little ass of yours so hard, you'll wear nothing but my handprint to school!" You know she's bluffing, but the thought of her hand connecting with your skin sends a shiver down your spine. Maybe it's better to play it safe and make all the payments on time.

It's a lot of money that you owe, and working an average minimum-wage job would require every last hour of your free time to make it. Just as you were about to give in to the idea of spending your entire senior year of high school behind a grill, flyers began appearing around town advertising a job opening at a new bar.

You scanned across the colorful page, eyes stopped by a bold headline advertising good hours, easy work, and a suspiciously high pay. It was a dream come true. With the hourly rate the job promised, you wouldn't even have to work every night of the week to make your goal.

Heading downtown, flyer in hand, you approach the address of the newly constructed bar.

The building was tall and imposing, with ornate Greek architecture that seemed to loom over its neighboring establishments. Despite the busy streets and bustling crowds, the restaurant seemed to exist in its own world, completely separate from the chaos outside. This was in part thanks to the tinted glass that gave the place a sense of mystery and exclusivity. Once inside, the dark windows created a cozy and intimate atmosphere, with soft, filtered light that added to the ambiance. The decor was elegant, with rich, dark woods and plush seating, creating an upscale and refined vibe.
What really caught your eye though was the marble sculptures of chiseled young men clad in nothing but loose togas, and often much less.

The interviewing process was speedy. Sarah, the young college-graduate owner, was overjoyed when you walked in. And when she discovered you just turned eighteen, that joy doubled. She was so thrilled that she went into a flurry of activity trying to find the documents to make your hiring official. It was almost as if she had just secured a million-dollar contract.
Caught up in her enthusiasm and the promises of getting an early raise, you sign the documents without hesitation. You clasp her hand tightly as you promise to come back the following evening for your first shift.

As you rode into downtown the sun was setting and opening hour ticked closer. A line had formed down the block and you had to push and shove past an oddly high amount of women to get to the entrance. In fact you don't think you saw a single man in the entire line. You paid the observation little mind as you didn't want to be late on the first day.

As you stepped through the door, the chaotic last minutes before opening were in full swing, with staff shouting orders and waiters rushing to set tables and make last-minute adjustments. You were immediately caught up in the frenzy, trying to avoid colliding with the busy staff as you made your way to the owner's office. You knocked hesitantly on the door, waiting for permission to enter.

"Come in!"

You stepped inside and found the girl from the interview frantically rifling through papers on her cluttered desk. "Ah, John so glad you made it!" She dropped everything and got up. "Just in time too, I need you to sign one last release form. You know, due to our special gimmick and all."

"Special gimmick?" You repeat with a cocked brow.
"Oh, you haven't heard about our gimmick? You see..."