Someone New: Brent Faiyaz X Reader

1.

You shift your weight, wanting to go home, begrudgingly serving drinks. But your face couldn't show that you wanted your shift to be over. You had a small smile on, just enough to keep the tips coming. Glancing around, you don't think you can handle another customer. Working at a trendy club in the city sucks but this is how you balance your other job.

You're done up, looking cute at least. You're wearing a black mini skirt and white button up.

A group walks in, and you pray they don't sit at the bar. You can't see them clearly, they're too far away.

Your group of 4 looked too drunk and thankfully they stopped asking for drinks. The other 4 are still asking for cocktails.

You're taking a break, having a sip of water.

"Hey. Do you mind if we swap?" Your coworker, Jordan, calls you from behind. You half-turn to meet him. You decide it's not worth it to continue the load by yourself for another hour. You're tired and your feet kinda hurt, still breaking in your 2 year old Doc Martins.

"Oh, yes please!" You reply, his face bright with an amused expression.

"What?" You ask.

"You're not gonna believe it." He laughs and walks away, leaving you confused and a bit worried. You turn and head towards the new customer.

You might be staring at Brent Fineass but you're a little far away to know for sure.

Dark skin, tall, tattoos, and shades on, looking like a problem. Yep, that's him. Each step makes your breath shakier.

Play it cool, girl pleaseeee.

Your jaw tenses a bit, and then you hope for the best, now standing in front of him.

"Hi, welcome. What can I get you?" You tilt your head slightly to meet his direction. He cracks a tiny smile and looks away for a second. There is a pause before he replies. "I'll have scotch, miss." His voice is clear, echoes in your chest, and shatters every bit of confidence you had.

You chewed the inside of your lip slightly before answering. "Sure. Anything else?"

"That's all for now, thank you."

You walk towards the liquor and your coworker does the same.

"Look at you trying to play it cool." He jeers at you, a bit too loudly.

"Fuck off!" You hiss as he turns away. One or two of the nearby patrons turned slightly, with confused looks and nervous smiles. Thanks a lot Jordan.

All of a sudden you're a noob back at bar tending school, trying not to break or spill anything. It's just scotch, you remind yourself.

You walk over and place his drink down. You notice a woman, probably a model, hovering behind him. She's talking in his ear, he thanks you again quietly.

You smile and nod, not wanting to interrupt further. As you walk away, you faintly hear "where's mine?" from the woman next to him.

You never expected him walking into the bar tonight, and even less, serving his drink. The part of you that wishes he said something else, dies a little. If this was the end of the interaction, you remind yourself to ask for an autograph before he leaves.

You close the previous tabs, which take longer than you expected. The patrons are forgetting the drinks they ordered and stumble over their words drunkenly. You decide to keep an eye on them until they sober up. You notice the time and quickly clean your station before your shift is up.

"Miss?" You turn and see Brent calling to you. You dry the counter and walk over.

"Yes?"

"May I have a drink with you?" He asks, folding his sunglasses away. You thought you mastered awkward eye contact since undergrad. Meeting his eyes felt different. Brown eyes, looking into yours, slightly hooded.

You gulp at the eye contact and think of a quick excuse.

"I'm driving home soon." You reply, a small chuckle parts your lips.

"Right, my bad. What's your name though?" He asks this as he gets closer. His cologne was sensual, sweet layers of waxy cedar and light jasmine.

Up close, you noticed his fitted, black t-shirt. Strong, tattooed arms resting on the counter.

You answer him and he shakes your hand, feeling the cold touch of his rings.

"Nice to meet you. I'm not gon' lie, I really thought you knew who I was." He lets out a laugh.

"I do." You admitted shyly.

"Damn. You weren't gon say nun'?" Brent holds your gaze, a smirk appearing on his face.

You can see the playful look in his dark eyes, too.

"No, I was. Eventually." You admit again, with a smile.

"Alright. I go by Chris though." He smiles and nods. You can tell it hurt his ego a little. Truthfully, it was because you wanted to keep it professional. "Celebrities need space too. But nice to meet you, Chris." You try out his name. He licks his lips and smiles at you, one that reaches his eyes. This man knows he's fine.

"Look, I thought you were beautiful and I was wondering if I could get your number." He explained, as he swirled whatever was left of his drink. You didn't want to think about this too long. Yes meant you knew what you were getting yourself into. Everyone knew he wasn't the relationship type, and you were just...bored. Just as you were about to answer, your supervisor exits the break room hallway. Maybe this wasn't the right time. And you were fine with it.

"My boss is around right now. You know where to find me." Your lips pulled a small smirk, hiding the disbelief you felt hearing the last sentence that dared slip from your mouth. This doesn't even seem promising. But it was exciting. You loved workplace tension and always imagined what you would do in a steamy scenario. Would he come back? Probably not. Right now, it didn't matter.

To your surprise,

He searched your eyes, and finally said, "Fair, I respect it. I'll be back." Brent closes his tab by sliding you a $100. He insisted on you keeping the change as a tip.

"Thanks. Goodnight." You took in every detail as he stood up, secretly not wanting him to go.

"Goodnight." Brent replies as he unfolds his sunglasses. You waved and watched his tall silhouette exit the building, a black truck waiting outside.