Incest Seduction/Let your brother follow you
"Okay! Sure!" You smile, waving him over. But once you and Zack get around the corner you clarify. "You don't need to help me. I'm fine. Really."
"Yeah, I know, I know. Just being a brother. I won't get in the way. "
"I dunno. I think Kim might be an only child," you tease, prompting an elbow from him.
You get right to work, schmoozing the growing crowd. Zack follows you around to make sure you're okay, but more like a creepy stalker than an entourage. You're not sure why he's so worried. He doesn't seem to get that you're way past okay. You're awesome! You're at a college party serving drinks! You've never even been to a high school party! Yes it's also scary and intimidating and stressful, but you can hide all of that behind your strong independent alter ego and project your pretend confidence with a saucy smile.
You use your new "thirsty" line all over the party. It's such an easy in, and wearing such a ridiculous getup makes the boys as well as the girls pay plenty of attention to you, even if they're all just trying to catch a peek of your ass. You don't mind bending over a little if that's what they want. The flirtier you are the better tips you seem to get so you don't mind acting playful or ditsy if that's what your patrons want.
Zack might not be impressed by your flirting (which makes you giggle a little, watching him what you) but he does seem impressed by how well you're handling yourself. After just a few successful orders he relents, gives you a smile and a nod of approval, and becomes just another guest doing his own thing. Working the crowd on your own it's not long before you're up over $50 in tips and feeling really good about yourself.
Confidence doesn't make up for lack of experience though. A half hour later a small group of guys in the kitchen asks for a round of shots and you bring up their order from downstairs. But Dave gave you their shots in plastic cups and these guys want shot glasses so they can light them on fire. That seems dangerous but you head back down and ask for shot glasses instead of cups. Dave kindly obliges, swapping it out and sending you back. But now there's a new problem. None of these guys have lighters.
After a weak effort of asking around and checking kitchen drawers one guy loses interest, mostly embarrassed, and tells you to take back their order. You head back down and tell Dave that the guys wanted to light the shots on fire but they couldn't find a lighter. He scoffs and laughs, lights the shots for you, and sends you back up so you can take their money.
Carrying four shot glasses up a flight of stairs while they're on fire makes you nervous. They're in the middle of your tray but you're afraid the fire could jump or spill at any moment. Once you carefully make it back to the kitchen the guy who sent you away gets uppity, yelling things like "deaf bitch" and "dumb whore". You don't know what his problem is exactly. Are you making him look bad or something?
He probably doesn't need any more to drink, but one of his friends offers to pay for the shots anyway. The asshole guy physically stops his friend and they start struggling in front of you. This is all getting scary and when you back up right into someone in the crowd you jump. Of course bumping into someone isn't a big deal. You've been bumped lots at this party already. But you haven't been carrying fire before.
As soon as you're bumped you squeal, let go of your tray, and run away. The shot glasses shatter on the kitchen tile, your tray bounces and rolls to the side, and now the floor is on fire.
A short bit of chaos ensues. Some girls scream for a fire extinguisher while guys jump in to put out the fire by stomping and hitting it with coats. It's not like it's an inferno, just a few ounces of spilled alcohol that's burning, but it's still scary. You totally lost your cool and this was the result. Cam rushes in just as the flames get stamped out.
"The fuck happened?"
"Your stupid waitress dropped our shots!" shouts the asshole. All eyes turn to you making you instantly defensive.
"It wasn't me!"
Witnesses start sharing what they saw, how you threw your tray on the floor, that the asshole started it, how you should get fired, an entirely untenable mix of drunken shouts and unhelpful jeers coming from all sides.
"It wasn't my fault!" you shout back. "I got bumped an-"
"Why would you give anyone a flaming drink?" interrupts Cam. "And you broke shot glasses?! How do I explain that to my old man?"
"I... I'm sorry... I didn't..."
"Give her a break man," Zack swoops in from outside, drawn by the commotion. You're not sure if he saw all of what happened but you're happy he's here now. You're floundering hard. He'll know what to do.
He briefly puts a hand on your shoulder, just to show that he's on your side, then turns to Cam. "Waitressing isn't exactly Kim's forte. Besides, isn't she just here to look good?"
"Well this looks pretty shit to me," notes Cam, gesturing at the alcohol and broken glass on the floor that the least drunk people have already started to clean up. Cam glares at you for a moment, mulling something over. "How much you got in tips?"
You inspect the bills in your armband and try to estimate. "I, umm... sixty? Seventy?"
"Whatever. Gimme that and we're even."
That's everything you've made so far! Yeah, you screwed up, but isn't there any other option? Maybe Zack will know what to do.