trixedenbreuls as Alexandrea Miller

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Alexandrea steps foot on the cracked sidewalk in front of her old job at the bar off Melrose Avenue; Snake Pit Alehouse. She hands the cab driver a twenty for his troubles of driving her from the Stockton airport to Charming. She takes a deep breath as she pushes the door to the right of the bar open, heading up the narrow stairwell. She unlocks the paint peeling door, coughing at the stale air while she makes her way to the old window, propping it open with a nearby box fan, using her jacket to direct the air out. She drops her bag on the floor, sitting on an old couch in the middle on the room and sighs heavily as she looks around the small apartment.

"Home sweet home."

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After a few hours of moving her stuff back in from the U-Haul parked on the side of the street, Alex steps into the small bathroom to take a quick shower before her shift at the bar. She scrubs the dust off her tan skin and out of her silver hair, exhaling heavily as she steps out and changes into a pair of blue jeans and her work shirt with the business logo on chest pocket and the back of it. She steps into her boots and throws her hair into a low bun, hiding the small crow tattoo on the back of her neck and locks the door behind her.

"Hey Sig." Alex greets her boss with her slight southern accent she picked up from living in Alabama for a handful of years. Her life went extremely downhill for a while before she decided to move away to start fresh. "How's it goin'?"

"What the hell is wrong with your voice?" He says back, sliding his thick framed glasses down his nose to look at his favorite employee. "And where the hell have you been? My wife got a call from you a couple weeks ago saying you'd be back and here you are. What's your explanation?"

"I was in Huntsville." She shrugs her purse off, tucking it under the bar in the same spot she's always put it during her shifts. "Pretty lil city." He scoffs as he tosses her a rag. "Anything change since I've been gone?"

"Over the past couple of years? Yeah. We're doing specialty nights like Twist-off Tuesdays, long necks are two bucks. Throwback Thursdays are pitchers of beers and wings. Fridays and Saturdays are Half Price, that really brings in business and Wednesdays are just the regular prices- no specials. We're still closed on Sundays and Mondays."

She nods as she takes in the information. "Still servin' the same crowd?"

"Those clubs? Of course, we get good business outta them." She chuckles quietly. "Melinda's on vacation for the next week so you get the night shifts."

"Sounds great, Sig. Thanks for lettin' me come back." He wraps an arm around her, pulling her in for a side hug. He's been her father figure since her own ran off with some druggy whore.

"Glad to have you home, kid." She smiles to herself as she starts taking the chairs off the table and on to the floor. "Doors open at one!" He shouts from his cramped office in the hallway to the bathroom.

"You got it, Sig!" She glances up at the 'it's five o'clock somewhere' clock and takes a deep breath. Why'd she have to pick a Friday of all days to return? She's not mentally prepared to deal with the idiots and jackasses from around the town. She hums along to the radio while she wipes down the bar taps, makes sure the glasses are cleaned and that the bottles on the shelves are facing out to the tables. "Doors are open!" She shouts to her boss as she swings the door open and then waits for the Friday night crowd to filter through.

Within a couple of hours, the bar is packed. It's definitely the nightly special that has drawn in more people. Half Price is the way to go in Charming. She keeps walking circles around Sig as the fill drink orders. She can't help the giggles that fall from her pouty pink lips as the customers flirt with her. She's always gotten a kick out of it. "Haven't seen you in here before." A familiar man with thin black hair says as he leans against the counter. "I would've remembered you."

"It's my first night back." She responds as she snaps the cap off of a Twisted Tea bottle, sliding it down the bar to an older man.

"Back? What were you up to before you came back?"

"C'mon now." She says, scooping ice into a glass before pouring some shitty whiskey into it. "Is it really your concern?"

"Absolutely, babe." He smirks at her as he sits on a barstool.

"I was livin' in the south for a few years and wanted to come back." She says being as vague as possible to this stranger. "Missed the small town."

"It sure is a small town." He winks as he tucks a twenty in the small pocket of her shirt. "Keep the change." He spins off the leather seat, joining another man with a couple scars on the sides of his face. That man looks familiar but as the weirdo said: it's a small town. She's probably seen him around a few times before she left.

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It's last call, the time where the people left in the bar usually head out, it's two in the morning. That black haired weirdo and the scarred up gentleman had left a few hours ago, thank god. Alexandrea takes a few minutes to talk to a regular, she thinks his name is Everett. He takes the time to tell her all about what's changed in Charming and what hasn't. Everett is an older man with gray almost white hair and wrinkles on his face from his permanent smile. He's gone through so much in his life and she loves talking to him, he shares life lessons with her and he loves having her to talk to. "Things have been kind of lonely without you, missy." He grunts as he stands up, his freckled hand clenching a wooden cane. "It's nice to have you back." He gives her a pat on the back before he hobbles his way to the door. She shuts the door behind him, flipping the open sign to closed and flicking the neon off.

Alex turns and sighs heavily at the sight of her trashed bar. "You good to lock up or do you want me to stay?" Sig asks from behind the counter. "I don't mind staying."

"Oh no, I'll be fine." She smiles. "Go on home." He gives her a side hug then heads off, leaving her by herself. "Last call was ten minutes ago." She says when she hears the bell jingle, her back turned to the door as she washes some dishes.

"Sorry."

She visibly tenses at the voice. That damn voice. She turns and looks the man up and down, the same man that broke her all those years ago. "Jackson Teller." He stands in front of her with a pair of baggy jeans and a black t-shirt, those ugly white sneakers still on his feet.

"Alexandrea Miller." He copies her tone. "What're you doing here?"

"I work here." She holds up her suds covered hands. "Last call was ten minutes ago." He scoffs as he sits at the bar. "Last call was ten minutes ago." He reaches behind the bar and grabs a glass, holding it under the Blue Moon tap, helping himself to a drink. She takes the glass out of his hand and sets it in the sink. "Last call was eleven minutes ago."

"This is how you're gonna treat me? After all these years?"

"Oh whatever, Goldilocks." She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "I reckon this is how you deserve to be treated."

"I reckon? Where the hell did that come from?"

"Get out, Teller." She scowls, pouring the beer from his glass down the drain. "Last call was twelve minutes ago."

"Whatever." He slaps his hands on the condensation ringed countertop, shoving his bar stool back before stomping his way out the door.

She can't help but laugh at that situation. That jackass does whatever the fuck he wants. She shakes her head as she locks the door, her eyes fluttering to him on his bike as he revs his engine a few times before riding away. She shakes her head again, forcing out the old feelings she had for him while she changes the radio station to a country one so she can at least enjoy what's left of her shift.

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After scrubbing the bathrooms free of vomit and other liquids, Alex's finally able to lock the bar up. Once she's inside her apartment, she strips her cigarette smoke laced clothes off and throws them into a beaten up basket. She pulls a Waylon Jennings tee on then flops back on her mattress. She gives into her old habit as she digs around in her nightstand for a pack of stale cigarettes and an even older black lighter. She lays on her mattress, a lit cigarette between her lips as she looks up at the tiled ceiling, recounting the squares.

Jackson Teller is the last person she wanted to see on her first day back in Charming yet he's the only thing on her mind. Her brain runs through the last time they were together, so many hearts broke that day and that was when she decided to leave town and she's glad she did.