Bad Things

Sixteen: Business Is Business

"You charge too cheaply," I tell Cameron as I look through his log book. He logs sales by nightly, weekly, monthly, semi-annually, and annually. Maybe Cameron was good at giving beers and setting the party mood, but when it came to finances he wasn't equip for it. "The average bar should make around $25,000-$30,000 weekly, based on an average drink cost of $8.00. Cameron, you charge 50% of the average cost. Say you sell 650 drinks a night at an $8.00 rate, you make $26,000 per week. However, selling the same amount at your rate of $4.00, you're lucky to get $13,000 a week. That's a significant difference."

Cameron looks over my shoulder at the papers and I see his tongue slide across his lips as I explain to him, "When I first opened, my prices are what was drawing in customers."

"I get that but you also have your clientele now," I look over my shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow, "You sell around a quarter more drinks than the average 650 and still can't get to $20,000 in earnings each night. If you raise your prices, even slightly it will change everything."

"Do you know how expensive it is to rent this place? And to stock inventory each month? $4.00 isn't going to--"

"Roughly $25,000 each month. It says here that rent and utilities average to $6,000 monthly. The other costs are employees and inventory, I know that you don't pay Zoey and I $19,000 a week and inventory should only be six to ten thousand weekly."

"This is too much math," He says, running his fingers through his hair and stepping away from the desk where I sat. He lays on his bed and looks across the room at me, "Didn't I tell you that I didn't graduate? Math was it for me. And science, really."

I stand from the chair and fold my arms over my chest while leaning against the desk, "Please just trust me on this. I take a business class and..."

"Wait, you're taking business? You didn't tell me that you're doing a business degree," Cameron's voice is filled with pure amusement and surprise, making me realize what I said to him. I hadn't been thinking about my age for a second, the business class that I'm taking in school at the moment was just so fulfilling that I wanted to use it to help Cameron any way that I can.

I shake my head and quickly attempt to cover my slip-up, "No, I'm not. I meant that when I went to high school I took an amazing business class. Just to prepare us for the real world and... I can finally use it."

I can't help but notice Cameron's eyes locked on me, he seems so focused but there isn't much to me. I'm quite bland, my clothes, my face, even my voice had nothing special to draw someone's attention. I'm simply just a boring person so having Cameron's eyes on me made absolutely no sense unless he were about to insult me in some way.

He stands up and walks towards me in a far too slow manner, possibly trying to set a dramatic mood, "You sure you want to help me? I'm not the easiest person to help."

"You don't say," I respond sarcastically before answering him seriously, "I'm sure. This thing that's going on with you and the police just seem unfair. You "

"You think we can do this?"

I nod my head, feeling confident in this plan. Maybe now I can be in charge of Cameron's financing to make sure he actually handles money appropriately, "I do... We will start tonight. The sooner, the better."

That is exactly what we did. As the night approached, we changed the prices without a single complaint from the customers. Surely they knew that they were getting alcohol for far too cheap, even with the price change the deal they're getting is clear.

Of course, not everyone can be understanding or welcoming to change and the moment I see Vincent approaching the bar I know that I'm right. He takes a seat on the stool across from me and gives me a disgusting smirk, "I'll take a beer."