7 Minutes before time

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The Nice Guy

“Your lover boy’s here.” Liam, both your boss and your friend since you were kids sing-songed, motioning to the sudden and many flashes of light as you can see through the two-way mirror of your shared office.

You almost forgot. Liam graduated with a culinary course and you also did but with business managing, making the both of you as each other’s bosses and form The Nice Guy, but nonetheless still being down to earth to the point the both of you serve tables too.

“For the record, he doesn’t love me and vice versa.” You rolled your eyes, looking at your watch signifying that it’s four minutes before 7, the time both you and Liam would start serving.

Liam noticed this, tossing you the black polo the servers would wear before putting on his.

“Oh. So that’s why he’s been coming in here for the past week.”

You rolled your eyes, taking off our shirt before putting on the polo, sensing Liam’s eyes on you which he always denied of doing. The both of you are friends yet still see each other topless for the sake of serving.

“Maybe he really likes The Nice Guy? Maybe he’s a dedicated customer?”

He laughed, “It’s obvious that he likes you. And a dedicated customer? Look at Niall.”

“Niall comes here to mainly annoy you of how you look ghetto on your polo! He even calls me mofo because I’m best friends with his.”

“Oh we’ll see.” He challenged, rolling up his sleeves with his tattoos now getting shown.

“By the way, you’re on bar duty today. I taught you well, right?” He added, winking as he opened the door with you following, knowing damn well that you hate serving the bar.

You walked along, receiving greetings from yours and Liam’s employees which you replied to.

Just as you were about to enter the bar counter, a tall dude almost tripped in front of you, smacking you in the process.

You looked up, recognizing his distincg features and tattoos.

Right, you saw him from Luke’s group lf friends from serving them for the past six days.

He recognized you, smirking.

“Hey Lukeee!” He hollered to him that’s two tables away from where you’re standing.

“What’s up?” Luke said back wnd looking up from his phone to Roy, almost choking on his saliva when he saw you.

You looked at him too, your throat going dry as you catched sight of him, almost being slightly happy until you saw his arm draped around a girl that you’re almost sure you scrolled past by on your phone.

‘Arzaylea?! You thought to yourself.

He immediately took off his arm away from who you think is Arzaylea, taking in your features that almost zoned out.

You took one last look at everyone, speed-walking to your destined spot, hopping over the small bar door which really isn’t.

“That was quite of an awkward situation, ma'am.” A cool voice said beside you, being relieved when you looked up from the black polo and his familiar tattoos, realizing it’s Louis.

“Don’t call me ma'am. For fuck’s sake, we were dormmates.”

He laughed before nodding at the customer’s order, “You’re lucky I managed to deal with your annoying ass back then.”

You rolled your eyes by his comment, wiping the extra glasses.

“You’re lcky that I cooked food for you that’s anything besides your chicken parma dish.”

“You’re lucky I bought you pads when you were to lazy to buy them.”

“You’re lucky that I kick out the girls you were about to hook up with even before they could enter.”

Louis was about to say something in retort until he realized what you said, nodding impressed as he knew you learned from the best, which of course, has to be him.

He stared at you, crossing his arms before he broke the silence.

“You really don’t notice?”

Your face twisted in confusion, “Notice what?”

He rolled his eyes, looking over to Luke that was sitting on the bar stool, a brick of realization hitting yoh as you realized that he’s the one Louis served, hearing your conversation the whole time.

“I’ll leave you to that.” He smirked, walking away to the other side of the bar.

Luke looks at you expectantly.

You sucked it up, releasing the only courage you had left despite the tension and awkwardness that’s present.

“Hi. This is The Nice Guy. How may I help you?”

//

does this need a part two?