After getting away from his cruel father's tyranny, Randall has to learn how to live again, and accept the person he was meant to be - with a little help of a local bartender...
*****
An empty shell is all what is left of twenty-five-yea...
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-Cole-
My entire staff and I spent the first few months running around like headless chickens, trying to figure out how to actually run a bar. Everything we'd learned before opening our doors had still not prepared us for the madness that owning one would be. Thankfully, the people I'd hired were capable professionals who knew what they were doing, so it wasn't a disaster. But boy, was there a lot to do.
Eventually, we got the hang of it. And I loved my job as the owner. I loved my staff. I loved the bar. I even loved the paperwork because it was my own paperwork, not someone else's.
And I really loved this new city. I didn't feel so insecure as an openly gay man, and I came to understand the community we had here was much larger than what I'd even dared to expect. It was so easy to make new friends, and meet new people, and even though this place wasn't completely void of homophobia, the attitude was still much, much nicer.
I had a few dates as well, but nothing too serious came out of them. My bar had most of my interest – and time – so I didn't really have the energy to start anything serious. And I guess I still wasn't quite over with being stabbed, so going out on dates did make me nervous at times. Even after all these years, I still feared I'd get attacked again if someone saw me holding hands with another guy. So, while I still was working through my past trauma and trying to own a bar, I was more than happy to take my time and ease my way back into dating life.
Although... There was a hot guy at my gym.
He had to be straight because that would be just my luck, but still, I never could stop myself from stealing glances at him.
And man, he was really nice to look at. He had dark, messy hair with natural highlights, sharp features, and such a smoking hot body I couldn't help feeling jealous. He always worked alone and always had the same routine. I knew because no matter how hard I tried not to, I still watched him. Quite a lot.
One day, I dared to exchange a few words with him when I ran into him in the dressing room.
"Nice day for sweating, am I right?" I asked.
"...Sure," he replied, giving me a side-eyed glance.
"It's supposed to rain again, I guess," I continued, suddenly feeling nervous as hell.
"Hmmh..."
"Yeah," I managed to mutter in my awkwardness. "Well, have fun out there," I said and fled the scene, my heart pumping.
He clearly wasn't interested in speaking to me, so I was kind of surprised when I noticed him watching me and my friends. A few weeks later, I understood why. He kept giving us annoyed glances whenever we were being too loud or started goofing around. So he was the serious type, which was kind of a bummer. I mean, obviously he still was straight, and even if he wasn't, I'd never find the guts to ask him out, so it didn't actually matter.
