Boylesque (🇬🇧)

It's Boylesque

Alec slotted the two halves of the cocktail shaker together and proceeded to shake the contents of various liquids - 1 1/2 ounces vodka, 1-ounce fresh lime juice, 1-ounce triple sec - vigorously back and forth methodically as he glanced at the stage through the reflective mirrored surface at the back of the bar. The stage was now deserted, due to the twenty-minute break, but that would be over in just a few minutes' time and Alec knew precisely what was going to happen next.

Magnus was going to dance. Only a few meters from him. And he would... Don't panic, Lightwood. Just breathe. In and out. Keep it together...

Alec drew in a shallow breath, counted to three, then released the air with a low hiss between his slightly parted lips. He repeated the process a few times, only to find that it didn't aid in calming his racing heart, not one bit. Alec snorted to himself. Who was he trying to fool? He shook his head.

Even though he'd known Magnus for such a short time he seemed to have the uncanny ability to affect him effortlessly, and to such a degree, as no other had managed before, and that was on a normal day. Simple breathing techniques most certainly wouldn't help him here. Especially not with Magnus seductively dancing and slowly undressing, flirtatiously removing his 'oh so provocative' garments directly in front of him.

It was a perfectly fabulous torment.

With a desperate sigh, Alec poured the yellow and slightly milky liquid through the strainer and into a chilled cocktail glass. He garnished the edge of the glass with a lime wedge before turning around to face the counter with the finished cocktail in his right hand.

Plastering a smile on his face, he meandered over to his customer, a pretty blonde woman with her hair scraped back from her face into a tight ponytail. He gingerly placed the mixed cocktail in front of her. Her gaze flicked to the small nameplate on his chest.

"Thank you, Alec," the woman said as she slid a 20-dollar bill across the counter. She winked at him playfully. "Keep the change."

"Thank you," Alec replied, giving the blonde woman a small smile.

"Lydia," she said, simply, as she lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip from her expertly mixed Kamikaze.

"Thank you, Lydia," Alec amended as he scooped up the bill from the counter, entering the order into the till he then placed the cash in the register. After he closed the till and tossed the change into the small wooden tip box that Maia, Bat and Alec would count out at the end of the shift and split equally amongst themselves. A curious notion shot through Alec's mind as he gave the blonde woman another once over.

"Are you Lydia Branwell, by any chance?" Alec asked as he reached for a glass that sat amongst numerous others on the drying rack to carefully dry it.

The young woman abandoned her cocktail and tilted her head to one side slightly. She looked at him with a frown between her brows.

"Yes, I am. Do we know each other from somewhere?"

"It might sound a bit strange, but my mother had planned on arranging a date between the two of us."

Lydia's eyes widened comically in response to his words.

"Are you the son of Maryse Lightwood?" She asked. It was more a statement rather than a question, she sounded a little astonished at the revelation.

"Uhm, yeah?" Alec replied while setting the now perfectly dry glass aside. "Is that a problem?"

Lydia shook her head promptly.

"No...Not at all, but ..." Lydia interrupted herself, looking at him thoughtfully as though in contemplation.