One-Shots

Sweetheart

"You're doing fine, hey, a week is more than most." He slaps you on the back, jumping down to the white tile floor.

"Don't stress me out like that!" you joke, adjusting your black waistcoat.

Dashing over, Enrique peeks out the circular window on the swing doors to the dining room, looking back at you with dramatized suspicion on his face. "He alone?" he asks.

"Seems like it."

"On Valentine's Day?"

"Behind!" comes an abrupt shout.

Enrique practically jumps out of the way, snickering at the saucier passing by with a large copper pot, who gives him a dirty look. Scurrying back to your side with a cringe, he says, "You're right, weird, he's sitting there looking angry, buddy if you had made a reservation, you wouldn't be sitting in the dark back corner near the restrooms."

"Maybe he got dumped, and he's here to spite all the happy couples," you say with a laugh, partially trying to convince yourself that there's nothing to worry about. The guy is simply odd. "Which, I guess, brings variety to the excessive sweetness in there."

Enrique snickers. "Someone's bitter."

Ava appears on your right, pulling her phone out of her back pocket. "Don't mind me, gonna hide back here too, my feet are killing me, thank god I have a break from the front for a few minutes."

Enrique clicks his tongue, leaning over you to shove at Ava's shoulder. "We are not hiding."

It goes ignored, her face slowly morphing into one of concern. "Have you guys seen this?" she asks, holding up the screen.

Explosion rocks Kremlin. 11 tourists thought to be —

Enrique rips the phone from her hands, dropping his jaw while scanning the article.

"The Kremlin?" you ask her, entirely shocked. "Is everyone okay?"

She nods with an equally stunned expression. "I think thankfully there were only people wounded yesterday, but the entire thing looks destroyed, like holy sh—"

"Ooh—listen—" Enrique blurts. "While Russian officials are continuing to blame a gas main break, experts are claiming it may not have been an accident, but a targeted attack."

You and Ava exchange aghast looks, waiting for him to continue.

"Ooh," he repeats with more panic, freezing.

"What?" Ava asks, crossing her arms. "You know, if you'd not have snatched my phone away, I'd probably be reading it faster than you right now."

"Table 14 was supposed to get the artichokes two minutes ago!" he exclaims, shoving the phone back in her arms and running to get the dishes.

The booming voice of the chef takes over the kitchen. "FOR THE FUCKING LOVE OF GOD ENRIQUE HURRY THE F—." It descends into a string of curses.

"Oh, crap." Ava quickly fixes her hair and veers off, calling out behind her shoulder, "I wanna hear about your first full day later, yeah?"

"Yeah!" You start towards the wine cellar. If I freaking survive it.

===============================

Kylo steps out of the car, already fucking bothered.

The scissor doors barely have time to close with a swish behind him before he is at the curb. A valet attendant bustles towards him, but he doesn't have the patience. Instead of any kind of greeting, Kylo slaps $300 from his coat pocket onto the guy's chest.