I glanced up as Mikey jogged over, grinning at me. “Hey. You're on an early shift today, then?”
I pulled a face and leaned against the bar. “Angelo’s putting me on all-nighters this week.”
“Ah crap, me too. Screw him, man.”
I finished wiping down the taps and rolled my eyes. “He's okay most of the time and then suddenly pulls stupid shit like this and I lose all respect.”
Mikey laughed, running his hand through his dirty blond hair as he sat down in front of me.
I poured a beer for him without thinking, setting it down on a coaster.
“At least I get to spend it with you,” he joked, leaning across the bar and flicking my bow tie. “You look extra dapper tonight, Frankie, you goin’ somewhere after this?”
I grinned. “I wish, but no. It's Friday night and by the end of this shift, I am going to want to do nothing but sleep all day.”
Mikey nodded, taking a long drink from his beer and looking at me over the top of his glass. “Mhm. I think all the ladies are gonna be in tonight.”
I groaned and started cleaning glasses. “Fuck. Why's that?”
Mikey shrugged. “Just a feeling, and I saw a few hen parties warming up on my way down here.”
“Gross,” I chuckled, rolling my long sleeves up as I started to run a basin of hot, soapy water. “I hate it.”
“It's a gay bar. Why do they always think hitting on the staff is gonna work?” He giggled, sipping at his beer again. “Can you make me that cocktail tonight? After my first big dance? You never make it anymore.”
“Yeah, I got some more cinnamon sticks in so I can. They're always after me, too. None of the other bar guys get it so bad, and I don't understand.”
Mikey winked at me playfully. “I think I do.”
“Fuck off,” I chuckled, flicking water in his face. “You need to go and get ready.”
He nodded and slapped a dollar on the bar. “Don't spend it all in one place.”
I flipped him off as he left, glancing at Ryan as he sidled up to me. “He likes you.”
“He's just flirting, he does it with everyone,” I mumbled, trying to look busy.
“Yeah, I know. He's a slut. But he likes you.”
I gritted my teeth. “Just because he's a dancer doesn't mean he's a slut.”
“He slept with Vic. That's like...a pity fuck, surely?”
I swallowed hard and glanced towards Vic. He was setting up lights on the stage. “He's not that bad, Ryan, don't be a bitch.”
“If you say so.”
I flicked my tea towel against his side. “Go do something useful.”
“I'm allergic.”
I watched him leave, rolling my eyes.

---

I grinned at Mikey, handing him the cocktail over the heads of the drunk women trying to catch my attention. Mikey dug a dollar out of his ridiculously tight underwear, waving it at me. “Tip?”
“Go fuck yourself!”
He laughed and blew me a kiss before disappearing back into the crowd. One of the women was staring at me with a sickly smile. “Is he your boyfriend?”
I shook my head quickly. “No, just a close friend. Do you need a top-up, hon?”

---

I dragged myself into Angelo’s office for the staff meeting. Ryan was lounging in one of the chairs, legs spread. I forced myself not to sneer at him and glanced around. It was only the barmen; Ryan, Jack, Josh, Ricky, Alex, and myself.
“Okay guys,” Angelo stood up. “We need to start bringing more people in through the doors, our profits are down again. So I'm gonna start shirtless Saturdays, we’re gonna advertise shirtless barmen, and I'm sure it's gonna work. Starting tonight. So get yourselves ready, okay? Tonight is gonna be great fun.”
He was grinning as if he'd come up with something he found extremely clever, but I couldn't shake the wave of nausea flooding over me. I walked out of the office numbly, nearly running into Mikey.
“Frank? You okay?”
I mumbled something and grabbed my coat, half running down the hall and out of the back door. I shrugged the coat on and crouched down, my back to the wall as I tried to get a cigarette out of the packet. My fingers were shaking so badly, I managed to drop one onto the wet tarmac.
“Motherfucker!”
Mikey suddenly crouched down next to me, making me jump and nearly drop the whole packet. He gently took it from me, taking a cigarette out and lighting it.
“Here. You look terrible.”
“Fuck, thanks,” I spat, taking a long drag quickly. “Fucking..”
I trailed off and stood up, kicking at a dustbin bitterly. Mikey watched me, not moving. “Frank, what's going on?”
I ran a hand through my hair, muttering to myself. “Fucking fuckshit. Motherfucking mother of fucking Christ.”
“Frank!” Mikey snapped. I froze and looked at him.
“What's wrong?”
I felt the fight drain away and my shoulders slouched. I took another drag off my cigarette, still shaking.
“Angelo wants to do ‘shirtless Saturdays,’” I sighed, adding air quotes. “He wants all us bar guys to strip down to serve.”
Mikey stared at me blankly. “And?”
I moved over to him, crouching down again. “And I'm not like you, Mikey,” I murmured, more calmly than I'd expected. “I'm not comfortable with that.”
“But you've got a great body, Frankie,” Mikey said quietly, rubbing my knee. “I know you've got a six pack and everything, you wore that tight shirt the other day.”
I winced and knocked the ash off my cigarette. “It's not really about that, Mikes.”
“What is it then?” He asked, genuinely confused as he tilted his head to look at me.
“Look, Mikey…” I sniffed and took another drag quickly. “I've had some fucked up shit happen to me, and it's left scars. And I don't feel comfortable showing it off to people.”
“Okay. I wanna see.”
I glared at him. “What’d I just say?”
Mikey giggled and grinned at me. “I'm not people, Frankie. I'm Mikey. Come on, come show me in my dressing room.”
I stubbed the butt of my cigarette out on the ground, blinking at him slowly.
“Please?”
I gave a tiny nod and followed him inside.

---

Mikey helped me unbutton my shirt, smiling at me comfortingly. “You're okay, Frankie.”
I shrugged the shirt off my shoulders and his eyes widened. “Holy crap.”
He brushed his fingertips over my skin slowly. “These are beautiful, Frankie. I love your tattoos so so much..”
I nodded slightly and turned around. Mikey gasped again, but the tone was very different this time. “Oh fuck. Yeah.”
He touched one of the seven scars lightly. “These are stab wounds, right?”
I nodded slightly. “Yeah. And I don't really want to talk about it.”
Mikey turned me back around slowly. “That's okay. You don't have to.”
He helped me with my shirt again and pulled me into a gentle hug. “Come on, little Frankie. I'll talk to Angelo for you. Go home, yeah? I'll call you in the morning, let you know what he said.”

Notes

It's been a while since I last wrote, so I'm hoping this is ok. It's also been a long time since I last posted on this website, so I hope people still use it.
Anyway...