Rhys looked around and smiled. He was behind a bar again, he felt like he had returned home. This, he could handle with his eyes closed and one hand tied behind his back. He had just finished setting up behind the bar the way he liked it when he heard a throat clear. “Excuse me, barkeep.” Rhys turned around and smiled. Rian and Damian had taken seats at the bar. “What can I get you, gentlemen?” “Thank god, a real bartender,” Damian exclaimed. “I love Peyton to death, but he couldn’t make a drink for shit. Where is his tweaky little self anyway?” Rian asked. Rhys pointed to where Peyton was
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