Standing behind the bar, I beamed as customers streamed in. The DJ blasted his first track and I felt the usual thrill of excitement.
I loved my work.
At 16, I’d started my first job – collecting glasses in a bar. From there, I’d worked my way up to manager – and I’d fallen for the doorman, Peter Edwards.
Before long, we were living together. Life was good.
Then, in August 2015, we decided to open a bar of our own.
It was a big challenge, with long hours and hard work. But the opening night of the Kandy Klub, St Helens, had been a huge success.
I was so proud.
Last June, I was looking forward to my 30th birthday.
But, because it fell on a Sunday, I’d have to work at the bar the night before.
Saturday was our busiest night. I didn’t mind, though. I enjoyed being there.
At midnight, the DJ shouted, ‘Happy Birthday, Jemma!’
Customers wished me well.
The atmosphere was great. At 1am, it was so busy that I had to squeeze through a crowd of people to get to the bar.
‘’Scuse me!’ I smiled. Everyone obliged, but then one man standing in my way turned and glared.
‘Who the f*ck are you?’ he drunkenly snarled. He shoved me hard against the wall and I felt a horrible cracking feeling down my back.
Wincing in pain, I hurried off to find Peter. ‘He needs to leave,’ I said.
Peter and another staff member quietly led the man outside and that seemed to be that.
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة March 23 2017 من Chat.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
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هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة March 23 2017 من Chat.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
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