Plan B, Me =/ [best mobile ebook reader .txt] 📗

~Sofia~

"Sofia, can you bring this to table twenty-two?" Another waitress, Kendall, asks me. I'm quite thankful that we don't use name tags, so that I don't have to lie about my name. I guess in this part of town, you don't want anyone to know your name. I nod, not showing how I really feel. I've been here since we opened at 8 o'clock in the morning, and I'll be here for another hour until closing at 10 o'clock P.M. It's the fifth day now that I've been the one to open and close. 

"Here you go. Can I get you guys anything else?" I ask kindly, but very quietly since they are all men. 

"I wouldn't mind you." One of them cat calls, and I immediately feel bile rise in my throat. I nod as a way of saying goodbye and quickly leave. It's bad enough I have to live with someone like that but I have to work around them too? Whatever, it gets me out of the house. 

"Sof, table thirty." Polly, the night shift manager tells me. With a sigh I walk over to the back corner. 

Once again, it's a table full of men. Just my luck. "Hi there. I'll be your waitress tonight, so can I start you off with anything to drink?" I recite the greeting I know by heart, getting out my white note pad.There is about six people at this table, so hopefully it's not too bad, but the majority of groups that come into a small diner like this is just two or four people. And normally they at least have one female. 

"Do you have anything stronger than soda?" One of them asks, sounding stressed. I brush my hair behind my ear while I shake my head. "Damn. Then Pepsi please." The same blonde says. I write it down and quickly glance at the red head next to him, basically telling him it's his turn. 

"Same for me." He says with a smile. 

A bald man, with tattoos covering his neck and part of his face is next. I must say, he's very intimidating, especially being so strong. "Hmm... Herbal Tea please." I bite my lip to stifle my laughter while I write. For a man this tough and scary, I wouldn't expect tea. 

"I'll take Cherry Pepsi." Another blonde, looking a few years younger than the rest, next to baldy asks. 

A man with dusty brown hair speaks next. "Me too." With a slight nod, I look at the man on the other end of the circular booth. And man, is he gorgeous. His short black hair is disheveled, as if he had run his hands through it a few too many times, but it still looks really good. He has stone cold, gray eyes (which I found out when he was looking at the menu, not me). He has a very defined jaw line, and a refined nose, with pink lips, matching his tan skin. 

"Umm..." His deep voice breaks me from my semi-trace. "I'll just take a mocha. Sorry for the wait." I nod, not knowing how to respond, and leave to get their drinks. I quickly pour the two Pepsi's and two cherry Pepsi's, and then brew the tea while I mix the coffee and cocoa. Once it's all ready, I put it on the tray, bringing it over to them. 

"-no we can't do that boss!" The first blonde exclaims to the black haired man, throwing his hands up, hitting the tray, making it spill all over me. The hot coffee and tea are mostly what I'm concerned about, but I know the pepsi's soaking my shirt, making it semi see through. Luckily, none of the cups broke. "Shit. I'm so sorry." He gasps. I take a deep breath, and squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. It's a tactic I learned years ago to stop my anger, since I'm too shy to actually have an outburst like I want to. 

"It's alright. I'll go get you some new drinks." I give them a small smile, and rush to the back. I peel off my wet clothes, and put on one of my extras that I keep here. I rush around getting their drinks again, and this time make sure my steps are a bit louder, do they'll know I'm coming. I give the first so their drinks, then reach over to give baldy his tea. "Pardon my reach." I say quietly. "Careful it's hot." I warn, again quietly. I go to grab the other cold drinks, when I realize that in the process of getting drinks spilt on me, the foundation on my arm began washing off. I yank me sleeve down slyly, something I've gotten good at over the last six years. I give them their drinks and go to put the mocha down when the receiver of it looks me directly in the eyes, making me look away. 

"What's wrong with your arm?" He asks.

"Are you ready to order?" I ask, ignoring his question. They all order, and the man makes sure to give me a look. I ignore that too, and give the kitchen their order. I move around from table to table, taking orders and ordering food, until I get back to the table of six with their food. "Western omelette." I set in front of the red head. "Vegetarian omelette." I put in front of baldy. He continues to surprise me. "Mushroom breakfast burrito." I give the brown haired one. "Meat lovers." I put, another omelette in front of the second blonde. They must love breakfast. "Buttered noodles." I in front of blondie. "I'll go grab your burger." I say already turning to avoid eye contact. Once I grab his burger I place it in front of him, standing as far away as I can without looking stupid. "Anything else?" They shake their heads and I go back to the kitchen area. 

"Sofia. You'll close again?" My manager asks. I nod slowly exahausted from all the fourteen hour shifts lately. Not even five minutes later, the men in the corner are the only ones there. I guess it makes sense since there is only fifteen minutes until closing. 

"Do you need any to-go boxes?" I ask once I reach the table. I'm sent to get two, and when I come back, boss man hands me a card before I even get the receipt. Okay then. Once they pay I give him his card and leave again. When I come back to clean up, I found a written on napkin.

I don't appreciate being ignored, Cupcake ;)

Well, I can officially say I've been called cupcake now...

Underneath the napkin, is a copy of the receipt and $1,000 dollars cash.

 ~Sofia~

See, that's just the beginning of my story. Once all the workers had left, I locked the door and put the Closed sign up. Once I'm back at the little counter in front of the kitchen, I begin counting my tips, getting a total of $1,435 dollars. Lately my tips are around 400-500 dollars, since I work all day instead of a normal shift. But today, since the thousand, I got over that. That's insane! I was unprofessional, I ignored him, I spilt their drinks, and yet they still gave me an amazing tip. What kind of job do they have? I think scoffing. Rich people always throw their money around like garbage. I yawn and when I look at the clock and see its 10:26 P.M. already, I decide it's time to head 'home'.

"Where have you been??" Antonio asks as soon as I step foot past the threshold.

"Work." I say quietly, looking at my feet after I shut the door. 

"Next time tell me!" He brings his hand out, and backhands me, making me slightly stumble. He goes on to slam my head into the wall, making me see dots while I fall to the ground, and once I'm down, he kicks me in the stomach repeatedly. He finally gives up, slamming the front door as he storms out, most likely to the bar. I get up, walking to my room- well, our room but Tony normally doesn't even make it past the living room before he passes out, so it's basically my room and his clothing storage. I change into a long sleeve shirt, making sure its baggy, and long pants, also baggy. No one should have to go through the torture of seeing my body. I wash my face, the ridiculous amount of foundation I have to wear to cover the bruises, given to me by my 'boyfriend.' 

See, years ago, six to be exact, my parents gave me away, to Antonio. He runs a gang, and a big part of his gang is drugs, which my lovely parents got hooked on. Eventually, he wouldn't give them anymore heroin because they weren't paying up, so when he came to get it one way or another, he saw me, a little sixteen year old, afraid for my life, and took me instead. My parents had no arguements giving me up, it not like they raised me anyways. I had to lie about my age and get a job at the age of ten, because my parents wouldn't provide for me. From the start he was abusive, controlling, an ass. But there is no talking back to 'his majesty.' I learned that the hard way. Luckily though, I got to finish high school and then went straight to my waitressing job.

He claims that he is just trying to make me the best person I can be, because he loves me, but I know better. Love isn't real. I mean, my parents constantly fought, high or not. Antonio says he loves me, but is constantly hurting me, mentally and physically. If love was real, then maybe life wouldn't suck so much, but it doesn't. It just makes us believe that someone cares about us beyond all rationality, when in reality they don't even care. All the couples you see on the street, so deeply in love, it's all fake. A scam. 

With a finally look in the mirror, I sigh and head to bed, so that I can get at least five and a half hours of sleep before I have to get up at 5:30 A.M. Yes, it's already midnight, and I have to go in early tomorrow for a team meeting. It takes me about half an hour to get to the diner, and I want half an hour to get ready, so that leaves me with having to get up at 5:30. Yippy.

My alarm goes off, and I immediately shut it off. I can't stand the noise. Getting up out of bed, I grab my uniform and undergarments, and then hop in the steaming hot shower. I dry off and get dressed, and then have to cover all the marks on my arms and face. When I'm satisfied with it, I put my strawberry blonde hair up into a tight bun on top of my head, despite being very painful since Antonio grabbed it so hard yesterday to slam my head into the