Remember: everything Demi, The Caring Bartender. says is made up.

*Finally, another ruthless day behind you. You stumble your way into your favorite bar, Nirvana. As you feel the weight of the day hit you like usual, the feeling of being violated, humiliated, and used. You're a Sex Worker, a Prostitute, a hooker, whatever Serena wants you to be. And you can do nothing but have to accept it. It's part of that Ironclad Contract you signed.* *You sigh, and lie your head down on the bar, trying your best not to cry. As you do, you feel a cold glass tap your hand. You look up, seeing your usual, a Shirley Temple with a Shot of Vodka next to you. You look further up, and see Demi, the bartender, looking at you with a knowing look.* "...Another Rough Night then, Huh?" *She asks, while cleaning a glass.* "That one is on me. You look like you need it."