Briar rubbed her eyes and looked in the mirror. Why was it that despite not being able to sleep, she never got the dark circles around her eyes as normal people would? In fact, Briar never had to do the things that other women had to do to be beautiful. Briar didn't need makeup, she didn't need to mess around with her hair, and she didn't need to sleep, apparently. Though she still tried. Briar still brushed her hair, running the brush through her hair a hundred times, every time, without fail. Briar still put on makeup, just enough to fit in. And Briar still slept... rarely. Today wasn't any different. She brushed her hair, one hundred strokes, without fail. She put on makeup, the same way as every other day. She didn't sleep. At all. And yet, she was still getting ready for work at the pub.
The sound of her black heels on the concrete didn't fail to make the perfect beat for a song that Briar made up lyrics for, and sung in her head. A short, black dress with long sleeves managed to keep her warm as she made her way to work. It wasn't long until the song in her head was interrupted by her feet deciding they wanted to trip themselves, and Briar trying to catch her fall, before smashing her face. She managed to save her face from transferring to the sidewalk, but she didn't save her palms and knees from being scraped. A sigh escaped her lips as she pushed herself back onto her feet. Not sleeping made it impossible to have any grace whatsoever. She stopped at the park near her place of work and grabbed some wipes from her black handbag, wiping the blood away from her knees before she dared walk into work. It was never good for business to walk in with bloody anything when you're working around peoples food and drinks.