Working at two in the morning was never an ideal situation. Slamming your head into a counter at two in the morning made things even worse.

"Ah, fuck." I instinctively clutched the throbbing spot on my skull and staggered to my feet, dirty rag in hand. This is what I get for insisting on cleaning every last detail after my shift ended. Why couldn't I just do it the next morning like a normal person?

"Ana, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Dad, I'm fine."

I sighed and leaned against the bar counter. The initial sharp, white pain had subsided and I was now left with just a dull ache. I smoothed down the frizz that had escaped my dark, braided hair and went into the office.

My dad sat at the computer but looked up in concern as I came in. "Hurt yourself?" he asked.

"Just bumped my head." I threw the rag in the dirty rag bag. "I can finish spot cleaning tomorrow."

"It's getting late," my dad said. "You should go home. Get some rest."

"So should you," I countered. I threw myself down into a chair and twisted the ring I wore around my neck through my fingers. "Paperwork will still be there tomorrow morning. And we don't even open until 11."

"As you remind me every night," my dad teased. "But you are right. We should both get some rest."

With a heavy sigh, I got up from my seat and stretched. Despite being a Saturday, the bar hadn't been particularly busy. It never really was during most of the year. We had our regulars and occasionally people passing through, but Delphine was a small town, with nothing to offer tourists except for beaches. And those were no good until the heat of summer arrived.

"Good night, Dad," I said.

"Get home safe."

It would have been very difficult for me to not get home safe. I rarely saw anyone on my five-minute drive back to my apartment, and the night was crystal clear. I was more at risk of my housemate thinking I was a burglar and hitting me over the head with a baseball bat than I was at risk of running into trouble on my way home.

Fortunately, after an uneventful drive home, I did not have to face my sometimes baseball bat-wielding housemate and made it to the bathroom without waking anyone. I wiped off my dark red lipstick and yanked off my Coral Brews Bar t-shirt, throwing it into my hamper. I leaned against the sink and stared at myself in the mirror. Another day. Another of the same day.

I always tried to be asleep by three, allowing myself six hours of sleep before getting up to be back at the bar at ten. Still, rolling out of bed at nine the next morning was never pleasant.

The apartment was still silent as I got ready for work the next morning, and as I entered the bar, I remembered why I hated leaving cleaning for the morning. It was the last thing I wanted to do right now.

"Morning Ana."

Yawning, I turned around to see Connor, one of our cooks, giving me a nod as he came in and headed toward the kitchen.

"Hey, Connor."

"Anything crazy happen last night?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, summer doesn't officially start for another week or two."

"True." He leaned against the bar counter. "We're hiring extra staff, right? I don't think Daryl and I would be able to handle everything by ourselves."

"Have I ever let you down, Connor?" I grabbed a bucket and started filling it with sanitizer. "Of course, we are."

As Connor went back into the kitchen to begin brunch prep work, I got back down on my hands and knees to finish cleaning under the counter I banged my head on the night before. Once I had cleaned the restaurant to my satisfaction, I joined Connor in the prep work, but instead of in the kitchen, behind the bar.

Every single Saturday and Sunday of my life was exactly the same. We had a steady set of regulars who came into our weekend brunch special: our bottomless mimosa deal was cheaper than any other place in Delphine. No one seemed to care that we used cheaper champagne.

"You look like you're having fun."

I turned around, balancing a tray of glasses on one hand and carrying a bottle of champagne and another orange juice in my other. We had been open for about an hour and our opening rush had died down a bit, but now everyone was just drinking.

My housemate, Emilia, stared at me from the other side of the counter. "Hey," I said. "Give me one second." I delivered the booze to a cheery table of locals and then returned to my post. "You slept in."

Emilia shrugged. "It's not like I have to be here bright and early."

"I wouldn't call ten in the morning bright and early," I countered. I put a beverage napkin in front of her. "I take it you're here for your weekly mimosa?"

"Just one, please."

I did as she asked, and Emilia studied me as I set the drink in front of her.

"What?"

Emilia shrugged. "Nothing." She took a sip of her drink.

"What?" I asked again. I had known Emilia for a long time. I knew when she was sitting on something.

"Nothing," Emilia repeated again, chuckling slightly. "I'm just thinking about this place in a few weeks from now. Bustling with strangers, young strangers, all of whom are going to have an eye on the hot bartender."

I snorted. "Oh, don't start with this again. You can't get on me about getting a boyfriend when you've never dated anyone."

"If I don't really care about having one and you do, yes, I can get on your case," Emilia argued.

"Fine, but I'm pretty sure young guys in this bar only add to my problems, not solve any," I countered.

Emilia laughed. "One of these days, Ana, you're going to eat your words."

One of the tables flagged me down. "Drink your mimosa," I told her. But as I went over to see what the table needed; I couldn't help but agree with her. Not necessarily the boyfriend part; guys here on vacation were not relationship material, but I needed something to change. I was going to go crazy if I was stuck doing the same thing every day for the rest of my life.

A/N: Ana's clearly not having the time of her life right now, but now that you guys have met her, let me know what you think of her! Thanks for reading!