Work was particularly exhausting today. She had been distracted by her thoughts and plated the salmon with the broccolini instead of the avocado mousse - twice - before Chef came over and swiped her dishes into the trash in a fit of unjustified rage. After the entire kitchen had heard their argument - Monet had to choke back where exactly he could have shoved his avocado mousse, responding only in the appropriate "Yes, Chef," with her eyes low as he berated her - Chef refused to speak to her for the rest of the night, but hung over her shoulder like a hawk watching prey. Tension built in her chest and she tried her hardest not to pull in the clouds overhead in her anger.
She found her way to Zero late. She had changed out of her uniform in the car, slipping quickly into a comfortable pair of tattered jeans that fit her long, slim legs and a navy tee with the collar cut out so it hung off one shoulder. The non-slips stayed right where they are, the effort of getting another pair of shoes not worth her time.
As she pulled out a stool at the bar, Monet had Min-Ji on her mind again. The bartender found her after only a few seconds of sitting. Before he could even ask, Monet had her debit card in her hand and said "Shot of Jager, please. And a Sam Adams - on the side." She debated ordering a double, but remembered she still had to drive back to the Detour Motel to spend another night homeless. She ran a hand through her hair and exhaled before she put her head on the bar briefly. It was sticky with varnish that wasn't well cared for but it was the last thing on her mind. Fighting off tears for her dead family, she lifted her head and shoved her pain down in time for her drinks to arrive. "Thank you," she sighed before tossing the shot back and swallowing hard, her face scrunching with the effort. The Jagermeister burned and threatened to make her cough as it travelled down her esophagus, taking its sweet time before settling warmly in her empty stomach.
There was a demon couple talking quietly next to her and at first Monet thought nothing of them. She could hear their conversation in snippets and disconnected words and knew it was rude to eavesdrop - or at least appear to be eavesdropping. The first thing that stirred her from her thoughts about her dead cousin was the word "Oligarch" that the redhead had whispered. From there, she listened closer, keeping her eyes on the shelves of liquor as as focused on the conversation. "Whereabouts", "conflicting stories", "hill"... it was enough for Monet to begin to put together the subject of their conversation at the very least.
Zeus.
She had heard rumors as well. They filled her with a rage unlike anything else had in this city. He was the reason that she was in this predicament. Her jaw went rigid and Monet looked over at the other demons quickly, unsure of whether she wanted to engage in that kind of a conversation after the night of work she had just had. Without meaning to, she locked eyes with the person with black hair who was smoking a cigarette.
