My Bubblegum King

008

Sebastian Crown

"Dude," My co-worker and fellow bartender Trevor, called making my jaw tick. It's the side effect of holding back a wince every now and then. I don't like being being called 'dude', I've told him countless of time but it's like it's ingrained into his tongue.

I really doubt Trevor has a brain, it's been almost a year working with him and I've proved this fact over and over. And I've also realized it's useless correcting him and it's not just him, costumers call me dude now and then, hence the jaw ticking now and then. It doesn't even hurt now anymore.

I turned to Trevor with a raised brow. Looking at him tempts me to put a bag over his head and shove him into a cupboard so I can go sell him off after work to the guys rearing and selling chickens. I swear, I see no point to having spikey hair, especially on him. What style is that even? Are you trying to tell people you're related to the family of the Cock? Or that you're a Cock? Or you have a cock?

I bite on my tongue on hold my smile in. I don't think Trevor needs his hair to affirm any of them. They are all pretty obvious... Unless the latter isn't... Sebastian!

"How the fuck did you do it?" Trevor asked, his Australian accent making him more bearable. I don't mind the guy that much, especially when hearing him. That the first thing I said to him: "cool accent".

"Do what?"

"Get the fuck up manager wrapped around your little finger?" Trevor jumped on the counter, smirking at him. "Tell me your secrets."

I shrugged, I wouldn't lie. I am feeling a bit smug about everything, I still can believe I got through to the guy. He looked so impossible at first but just talking to him worked things out. "Just talked."

"Just talk?"

I nodded, "walked up to him politely and told him my problems. Done deal."

"Brilliant fucker, you were the least bit scared?"

"Nope." Now that's a little lie, I was a little scared. I didn't want to lose my job but then I had Flynn's words... I smiled.

"Liar."

"It's true."

"That's so dope."

"I know."

"Or maybe you did something else..." Trevor trailed off, eying me suspiciously.

"Like what?" I raised brow.

"The new owner... Don't tell me his gay..."

"What?" I backpedaled, not expecting that. Now this is the point where he proves his relation to the bird family.

Trevor gasped, "he is, isn't he? What the fuck did you do?"

I can say my whole face ticked because that's how it felted. I glared at Trevor and didn't say anything else, my face felt tight and I knew that if I opened my mouth, I'd do something nasty to Trevor. And I remember promising not to clock him in the face anymore, all the stitches on his nose are all thanks to me.

"What? Tell me please, I wouldn't judge. Who the fuck am I to?"

I continued cleaning the counter and the kegs and the tap heads. We open in less than 30 minutes time and this place usually gets filled up and tedious in the first hour. I can't slack, I wanna be the best at this because despite my dumb and annoying co workers and managers, I love working here. I love what I'm doing and I have a feeling I'd be doing it for a while. It's fun.

"You don't want to talk anymore? Don't tell me he takes it up the ass?"

Inhale. Exhale... Oh fuck it. That's it.