Yoloswek's snippets

The club was closed, the last people had gone home and the two bartenders that had worked that night were standing near the backdoor, smoking a quick cigarette.
One of them was Bryce Logan, the other one Deb Kozlowski, a young woman with short, spikey black hair, dark eyes and a skinny, boyish frame.
“You working tomorrow?” Deb asked. Bryce shook his head.
“Nah, got a free day tomorrow.”
“So we’ll see each other tomorrow either way then?” Deb said dryly and Bryce laughed.
“Surprisingly, no,” he said. “I’m invited to a friend’s party. he turned twentyfour last week.”
“But you are getting wasted. Thank God, I was almost getting worried,” Deb said with a crooked grin. One of her teeth missed a tiny bit. She always told people it was from a fight, but Bryce knew it was from a cycling accident.
“You make me sound like an alcoholic, Deb,” Bryce said, feigning outrage. Deb exhaled some smoke and shrugged.
“Well,” she said, more serious now, “don’t you sometimes feel like you’re kind of stuck in a rut? I don’t think I’ve seen you spend your free nights any other way than partying.”
Bryce ignored the uneasy feeling in his gut that told him she might be right.
“I’m still young, I need to be able to have some fun,” he said. Deb just shrugged again.
“Fair enough.”