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Lucas was drowning. Or metaphorically, at least.
Everything just happened all at once.
It started with a divorce between his mother and father. And ended with his father moving out, practically deserting him and his mother, leaving them left for dead. It would’ve been okay if it weren’t for the fact that his father was their only source of income.
His mother was physically disabled, thus unable to hold a steady, well-paying job, and Lucas was too young and immature to land a job. Though, with his father, a successful businessman, it was enough to stay afloat throughout the years.
But after he left, chaos followed. They could barely afford a month’s worth of groceries, practically living off paycheck to paycheck. It would’ve been okay if their house wasn’t falling apart. Every room was in dire need of renovations: the walls were practically falling apart—but it was the place they called home . It was Lucas’ haven, a place where he could let his guard down. So he couldn’t let it go.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. So, Lucas had to make sacrifices.
Instead of spending afternoons with his friends, he searched all around for any job openings. There were a lot, of course. However, most of them required somebody who had experience, who had a stable home and a working phone. And Lucas had none of those. Despite this, he found some jobs.
His first job was as a receptionist at a dingy hotel. It was terrible, to say the least. Half of the lights were broken, creating an eerily creepy ambiance. It smelled like rotten meat and bitter coffee half of the time. The carpeting was downright hideous: green and red stripes decorating the floors. There were awful stains that resembled blood stains way too closely. And there were more cockroaches than customers. The customers who came in were irking and sweaty, spending much of their time day-drinking and sleeping on random couches.
The gig lasted less than a month: his creepy boss was too much to handle with his unwanted advances. But surprisingly, that wasn’t his worst job.
His worst job definitely had to be working as a busboy at a local diner. It was always busy. People rushing in and out, taking advantage of great deals with seemingly never-ending stacks of pancakes and unlimited chocolate milkshakes. As expected, his cleaning station was always backed up. Dishes upon dishes were thrown in the sink, piling up higher than mount everest. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was the owner, who smelled worse than that dingy hotel ever did.
She was loud and mean. She screeched and shouted at anyone who made the slightest mistake. Her latest victim being a small toddler who wailed after getting yelled at by the witch . And Lucas was no exception. In fact, she seemed to have a particular liking for yelling at Lucas.
The tiniest tomato speck left on the dish— screech . A microscopic chip on a soup bowl— screech. A sigh— screech.
It was mentally exhausting. And he couldn’t take it anymore. So one day he fought back. After being nagged and nagged for being ‘too slow and sloppy’ during his shift—he exploded. He told her how much of a terrible boss she was. He told her everyone hated her, that she was the worst human being to exist. He even went as far as accusing her of being a spawn of satan. No, she was a spawn of satan, he thinks.
And he didn’t regret it. The feeling of satisfaction bubbled out as laughter and glee as he watched her face twist with shock and then anger.
Although perhaps he should’ve let her down more gently, he thinks, because he was immediately fired without the week’s pay.
In effect, he was jobless for the next month, forced to ditch his friends and skip school field trips in place of relentless job searching.
After weeks of no luck, he stumbled upon a paper pinned on a bulletin board. He reckons it was glowing, emanating sunshine as it glared at Lucas, pulling him closer.
Help wanted!
Experienced waiters and waitresses needed for the special awards show. Preferably someone who wouldn’t mind being on live television. And would be comfortable serving celebrities. Interview and training required. $450 a night, not including tip.
Call xxx-xxx-xxxx if interested. (only 16 and older, resume required)
At first, Lucas was ecstatic. This was more than a week’s paycheck at the diner. Not only that, but he would be serving CELEBRITIES. This wasn’t any other awards show. This was THE awards show. It was the talk of the town. Everyone looked forward to it, even his damn grandma. It had the biggest of big celebrities: Ariana Grande, Lady Gaga, and even the dimple dreamboat, sigh, Harry Styles.
And when he found out that Eliott Demaury, the starving artist slash renowned director, was joining the party, he wanted in. Lucas had an unhealthy obsession with that boy. His pretty smile reduced him to puddles, and those damn heart eyes, and that beautiful laugh, and that stinking messy hair, and oh my god, and that stupid head tilt he does when he talks to people he likes. It infuriates him. He just wants to bury himself in the other boy’s arms and hide away from the world for the end of eternity. Who needs water and food when you have Eliott Demaury? Lucas sure doesn’t.
Then Lucas was disappointed. Who was he kidding? He had never even served a table! He was a silly hotel attendant for less than a month and a busboy for a boss who would most definitely give him a shitty reference.
He would never land a job like that.
Then a lightbulb switched.
Why don’t you just lie? He remembers Mika telling him.
And at first, that idea seemed preposterous. He could get in serious trouble if someone found out. Plus, he was terrible at lying, the most terrible liar to exist, in fact.
IF they found out, he thinks.
And it was so tempting. It would be so easy: to lie, he thinks. He could be a whole different person with just one scratch of a pencil. And it wouldn’t be without a good cause. He’s behind on rent, barely done paying off last month's rent. He needs the money, his mother needs the money. And that's a whole lot of money. He would be stupid to shut it down. Besides, he’s not hurting anyone, so what’s the big deal? It’s a one-time thing. After that, it’ll be a forgettable night.
Do it for Eliott Demaury! Mika urged him on.
It proved to be too tempting. And he gave in way too quickly. Because before he knew it, he dialed that number and got the green light to email over his resume that was filled with way too many lies, and that was it. It was too late to back out. He was in way too deep.
When he first received a letter back, he was ready for rejection. His heart pounded as he ripped the letter open. He needs this, he declares, he deserves this.
Once he finally managed to read the letter, he screamed so loudly that he swore he woke up Linn, the deepest sleeper ever.
And then, minutes after, another scream erupted from Mika, who read the letter from behind his shoulder.
You’re going to see the one and only, Eliott Demaury, you lucky fuck!
It was the best hour of his life, and he was so excited.
Until he was not.
There were two days of training. During that time, he met fifty other servers, who were not only unreasonably beautiful, but he swears, were flawless in every step they took. They carried filled trays with such stability and walked with such grace that made Lucas wonder if they were actually robots.
Lucas was the complete opposite; a disastrous, clumsy mess, to be more accurate. He dropped too many trays, broke too many wine glasses, and even tripped over thin air at one point. Though on the second day, he thinks he got his act together. He could carry two trays at once—TWO! And he didn’t trip this time.
All he has to do now is not to trip and fall on live television. He could see the headlines now:
The Boy Who Fell on Live Television.
No, that’s not going to be the headlines because he isn’t going to mess up. He will not be the laughing stock of the awards show. He will be poised and elegant, serving effortlessly and passionately. He could do that. He could definitely do that.
The day of the awards show, everyone was panicking. The day started with a storm, both literally and figuratively. Flights were delayed, and traffic-clogged up the streets. Every server was late, and not only that, but the chefs had to begin preparation two hours later than expected.
The two hours before the start of the awards show was the worst. Everyone was trying their best to prepare the room. Table cloths were thrown clumsily on the table. Glasses and plates were slammed way too harshly on the table. And the manager seemed to be having a hissy fit in the corner.
An hour before the show was the calm before the aftershocks. All the waiters were sent away for a five-minute break. And Lucas could finally breathe.
He ran his hands over the soft material of the couch as he sunk deeper into his seat, breathing a sigh of relief. If this is what being a waiter feels like, he is never doing it again, no matter how much money is on the table.
Everyone was visibly exhausted—all quiet and brooding, waiting for the call back in. For a split second, Lucas thinks about backing out of the gig and just leaving.
“You good?”
Lucas hummed, opening his eyes to face Yann, another waiter.
“Just thinking about how shitty this night is going to be.”
Yann snorted. “Just think about the amount of cash we’re going to score by the end of the night. We’re gonna be rich men, Lulu!”
Lucas nearly groaned at the nickname. Deep (very deep) inside, Lucas is glad he took the gig, as he was granted the opportunity to meet Yann, who he felt like he'd known for ages. He had known him for less than two days, yet the two immediately clicked.
“What are you going to spend it on?” Another familiar voice, Basile, jumped in, with Arthur trailing behind him. Lucas wasn’t all too familiar with the two. The other boys were more close friends of Yann’s, who introduced him to them last night. They were funny, though, Lucas supposes. A little ridiculous at times and insanely obsessed with girls, but a pretty solid guy.
“Like you don’t know. All of this money is going towards that sweet, sweet PS5. Been wanting that shit for forever.” Yann replied.
“Dude, what a waste. Put it towards something useful. Like college.” Arthur suggests, pulling a strip of gum out of his pocket.
Yann scoffed, stealing the other boy’s gum, who let out a defeated ‘ hey! ’
“I’m going to spend it on Daphne.” Basile declared randomly, a faint smile embedded onto his face as he sighed dreamily.
The three of them groaned. Basile was the type of person to be disgusting when in love. He talked about Daphne 24/7. About how beautiful she looked last night, or about how her parents loved his signature lasagna. It was never-ending. It’s not like Lucas cares, anyhow. He’s not jealous. He is perfectly fine being single. Besides, having a partner seems exhausting.
“What about you Lulu?” Basile asked, staring straight at him.
Lucas shrugged. The boys don’t know about his shitty financial situation. He suspects Yann might begin to pick up on it soon. He doesn’t seem like the one to let things like this pass by him.
He was going to respond with something normal, like some new shoes or clothes, but before he
could do that, their break was called to an end.
When the three of them entered the room, it was filled to the brim. Camera crews surrounded the stage, occupied with setting up their equipment and finding the best angle. And celebrities were being seated, ushered to their tables with wide grins and laughs.
“What tables were you assigned?”
He heard Yann whisper to him.
“The first ten tables, A through E. Why?”
Arthur groaned.
“Bro, you lucky little shit. Those tables are for A-list celebrities. Not fair you’re going to get a shit ton of money while I’m stuck here with B-list celebrities.”
“Better than D-list celebrities, that’s for sure.” Yann said.
“Wait, what’s wrong with D-list celebrities?” Basile asked.
“Nothing is wrong with them. Unless you want to be treated like shit AND tipped like shit, at the same time.”
Basile groaned, running his hands through his hair. “Why did I get stuck with the D-lists?”
A few minutes passed until they were ordered to their tables. The closer he got to his station, the more nervous he became. Regret filled his mind as he noticed the celebrities sitting at his tables. They held an air of superiority and intimidation, eyes gleaming with boredom and disinterest as they talked to the other people at the table. He almost stood up right there and fled. If it weren’t for the other waiter stationed with him, he would have done just that.
That’s when he saw him. When he first laid eyes on Eliott Demaury, his world did not stop, but rather it exploded into a bunch of bright and vibrant colors, creating the most beautiful picture of the world Lucas has ever seen.
He sat at the third table, his pretty blue eyes brimming with unrivaled excitement as he talked to the other people at the table. Lucas suspects he has the power to brighten up the mood with just his mere presence.
He was like the full moon, Lucas thinks to himself. He was the center of attention, his mere presence drowning out everyone around him. He was like the full moon—bright enough that the stars around him seemed to blur as they blended with the dark sky. His stare never stayed on one person but rather orbited around as the moon does to the earth. He was illuminating and otherworldly and beautiful, and Lucas became almost enamored with the other boy.
When Eliott looks over to Lucas, they make eye contact. Lucas barely resisted the urge to squint at the boy who was as bright as the moon. His stare was intense yet shining with wonder and curiosity. Lucas was the first to break the stare, staring at the other waiter looking at him expectantly.
“You heard the boss. You get the odd tables, I’ll serve the even tables.”
Lucas barely had time to agree before a notepad was shoved into his hands, and he was pushed to the first table.
His presence did very little to pause the conversation, driving him to let out an embarrassing cough. Suddenly, all eyes were on him, and his stomach turned.
Before he could control his voice, he squeaked out a small ‘ hello .’ Heat rushed to his cheek as quiet snickers erupted at the table, many of them eyeing him as if he was a piece of meat.
He cleared his throat.
“Good evening, and welcome to the Perrington’s Awards Ceremony. My name is Lucas, and I will be serving you tonight.”
It was a short and sweet greeting, something that was ingrained into their minds during the two days of training. He made sure to smile, and to pinch in a little enthusiasm and sickly sweet kindness into his words, to make a good first impression.
He did everything he was told to. He talked about the delicious drink specials on the menu while passing out the small menus that were hidden in his apron.
After taking down their orders, he headed to his next table, staring at the ground as he walked over. His heart pounded with anticipation as he walked closer to the third table.
He was about to be only inches away from the love of his life. Oh shit, what if he forgets what to say? That’ll be downright embarrassing.
Don’t be such a fool , Lucas reprimanded himself. Just do your job, and that’s it.
He wishes it were that simple because when he stops in front of the next table, his mind blanks. He stares at Eliott with wide eyes, his fingers trembling with nerves as he shakily holds the notepad. The other boy holds his stare, a small smile breaking his face.
Oh gosh, he knows, Lucas thinks, snap out of it!
“My name is Lucas Lallemant.” He blurts.
The whole table stared at him questionably as he squirms under their judgmental gazes. He watches as the other’s boy's smile brightens, staring amusedly at the waiter boy, only causing the butterflies in his stomach to swarm wildly.
“I mean,” He stutters. “Welcome to Kerrington—I mean, Perrington’s Awards Ceremony. My name is Lucas, and I’ll be your server.”
He tries to avoid his eyes, opting to stare at the other pretty faces, never holding eye contact. He briefly talks about the drink specials, handing each person a menu and ignoring the way a spark ran through his body as Eliott’s fingers brushed against his own.
He finally stares at Eliott, flashing him a soft smile.
“What drink can I get for you?”
The other man only stares at him, tapping his fingers against the menu. “Well, what do you recommend, Mr. Lallemant ?”
His breath hitches at the mention of his name.
“Depends.” He blurts.
Eliott raises his eyebrows, his grin getting impossibly wider.
“On?”
“On how drunk you’re planning to get.”
The table erupts in laughter, the tension dissipating all at once, driving a smirk out of Lucas. Perhaps this is easier than he thought, he thinks. Let his charm swindle the money out of their fat wallets.
“Well, in that case, I am planning to get very, very drunk, Mr. Lallemant. ”
“Then I would recommend a whiskey sour, Mr. Demaury. The first sip is enough to get you black-out drunk. But I am not sure if you’ll be able to take it.”
Eliott smirks. “And why is that?”
Two can play at that game , Lucas thinks.
“Just have a feeling,” He teases. “I think you’d be better off with something else. Something less hard .”
Eliott’s eyes challenge him, daring him to finish his sentence. The excitement thrills him, sending electric strikes to his heart.
“Well, Lucas, I suppose I am craving something sweet. How about that?”
“Anything particular you’d like, Mr. Demaury ?”
Eliott leans back into his chair, spreading his long legs, and Lucas couldn’t help but take a look.
Heat rushed to his cheeks as he locked eyes again with the smug boy.
“Surprise me. Something tells me you’re filled with surprises, Mr. Lallemant. ”
Lucas knew the perfect drink. The perfect concoction that was going to blow Eliott away.
He could physically feel how fast his heart was racing during the exchange. He didn’t want the conversation to end. He had never met somebody as interesting as Eliott.
He could only hope that Eliott somehow felt the same.
“Strange.” Eliott only said, embracing his own chin with his hand and tapping his chin with his fingers. It was nearly a whisper, prompting Lucas to believe he wasn’t supposed to hear it. Like it was a forbidden word.
He was about to ask him what exactly was strange. He built up the courage, but before he could, another voice took it all down.
“Excuse me? Are you going to take my order, or shall I get the drink myself?” A woman said snarkily.
It was a wake-up call, driving him to tear his gaze away from the alluring figure. Taking the orders of the rest of the tables was a boring affair. He plastered a fake smile on his face, greeting and welcoming them all, and then took their orders. The walk to the kitchen was rushed, the floor manager hurrying them.
By the time all the drinks were ready, he held two trays filled with a variety of drinks. It was the true test. Would he drop it all or bring them safely to their respective tables.
Every step he takes, he chants: don’t drop it, don’t drop it, don’t drop it.
When he successfully serves all the tables without dropping an ounce of liquid, he breathes a sigh of relief. He stands next to the other waiter, a safe distance away from their station, and looks over to the stage where the host was greeting the crowds, listing the nominees for the first award.
There was a tense silence as he opened the envelope and then stared mysteriously at the crowd. Once he announced the name, the silence was broken with applause.
Before he knew it, it was time for appetizers, and he was headed to Eliott’s table with an excited heart.
The two of them had little interaction. His attention mainly focused on the snarky girl to his left. They seemed intimate, too close. Lucas watched the woman delicately laugh, placing her small hand on his shoulder. He seemed equally as fascinated with the woman as she was with him. Maybe Lucas read into things too much. Perhaps Eliott isn’t as interested in him as he thought.
By the time entrees came, Lucas felt drained and weak from the lack of attention he was receiving from the other boy. It wasn’t helping that one of the men he was serving was acting rudely, ignoring him and talking obnoxiously every chance he had. Not only that, but when he needed another drink (which seemed to be every other minute), he would harshly pull Lucas’ upper arm as if he was a child.
Carrying the entrees was a much more difficult affair. The plates were heavy, and his hands shook from the exertion as he shakily walked over to his tables. He felt the gaze of the floor manager, watching his every shaky step, making him even more nervous.
He felt the ache dissipate as he served the first table, standing up and carrying the trays to the next table. It was there when he felt his confidence return as he noticed Eliott staring at him with a smile.
That beautiful smile is going to kill him one day, he swears. He’ll gladly let it ruin his life if it means having Eliott in his life, he thinks. His steps were more stable and confident as he neared the table.
Then there was a pull.
A cold palm grips his arm, pulling him in the wrong direction.
It was harsh and unforgiving, startling Lucas backward. A gasp was pulled out of him as he stumbled back and lost his grip on the trays. It would’ve been just fine if he wasn’t carrying two heavy trays filled with food. The trays were merely a victim of gravity as they flew upwards for less than a second, then slammed down on the ground, destroying all of the plates.
It all happened too quickly. One second he was perfectly fine, serving tables with a pretty smile and an occasional laugh. And the next second he was splayed on the ground with lettuce leaves embedded into his hair and ranch dressing splattered over his expensive suit. Not the suit!
Gasps and small screams filled the room once he hit the ground, his head knocking to the ground with a thud. He could hear people abruptly standing up instinctively, watching the chaos unfold.
It was a huge mess. He was a huge mess. This day was a huge mess. He groaned loudly, the sound a mixture of pain and embarrassment.
Why is it still dark? Is he dead?
“ Open your eyes. ”
He hears the most angelic voice speak, making Lucas feel floaty and high. It was alluring and warm, wrapping him into a blanket of warmth and delicate angel kisses to his heart. He wonders if he died and went to heaven. He definitely did, Lucas thinks. Lucas almost says, no, because he was to stay in this state forever. Fuck reality.
A gentle shake shattered his beautiful illusion, harshly bringing him back to reality. There Lucas realized that Lucas wasn’t knocked out, but rather, his eyes were scrunched shut. He opens his eyes, squinting at the bright lights—his vision blurry, obscured by a man with a messy set of hair looming on top of him.
He’s so pretty, Lucas thinks, So, so, so pretty.
“Are you okay?” The pretty man mouths, warm palms embracing his cheat, quelling the aching pain.
He wants to say, I’m fine, but there are cotton balls in his mouth. Instead, he lets out a rasp.
“ Are you an angel? ”
The pretty man’s pink lips quirk up in a soft smile, a surprised giggle filling his ears. He wants to
hear that beautiful sound forever , he thinks, though he could settle for now .
Can we stay like this forever?
The answer was equivalent to a no, as his hands were grasped by two unfamiliar fists, pulling him up to a standing position.
He vaguely remembers being dragged to the bathroom with linoleum floors and a blinking, dull light. He remembers flying for a split second, and then being set on a counter. Then everything became clearer.
Eliott.
Eliott stood in front of him with a worried frown, dabbing lightly to Lucas' sweaty forehead with a wet napkin.
“That was quite the fall.” Eliott says, throwing away the napkin and wetting a new one.
Lucas only hums, his mind half there and still half not there. He cannot believe this is happening to him. He hopes it wasn’t caught on camera. But knowing his luck, everything was caught on camera. He could just imagine Mika bursting into laughter watching him.
“I didn’t know what I was supposed to be looking at: you falling to your death or my poor grilled chicken meeting death twice,”
Lucas couldn’t help but let out a teary laugh. Eliott’s eyes brightened immediately. “Are you laughing at my despair? Does my trauma amuse you, Lucas?”
Small bubbles of giggles escape his mouth as Eliott watches on with a small smile. His hand holding the napkin still midair.
“It is not a laughing matter. I’ll have you know. And I was really looking forward to eating that chicken. You really don’t understand.”
His stomach ached, not because of the pain but because of the aching laughter. He has to stop. He’s going to explode.
“And you’re still laughing! I’m pouring my heart out to you, and this is what I get?”
He can’t help it. The laughter just falls out like waves. “I guess,” Another giggle escapes him as he tries to stifle it. “I guess you’re a true depiction of a starving artist.”
Eliott stares at him like he’s crazy until he promptly bursts into boisterous laughter, the sound bouncing off the walls and hitting the ceiling. His laugh lines making a surprise visit. Lucas couldn’t help but stop and watch the taller boy laugh.
Their laughter dies down, but their smiles remain as they stare at each other. Not either of them daring to say anything else. Until Eliott presumes dabbing Lucas’ forehead with the damp napkin.
“What was the name of that drink?” Eliott asks. “The drink you served me.”
Lucas ignores the question, leaning back into the mirror.
“Did you enjoy it?”
Eliott tilts his head, sending tingles down Lucas' spine.
“Very much. Though it wasn’t very sweet, not that I mind.”
Lucas smiles.
“They call it the Crimson Kiss ,” Lucas finally says, grabbing Eliott’s collar, softly pulling him in.
“A little bit of vodka, a splash of amaretto, some drops of bitters, and a whole lot of pomegranate juice. Topped with a tart little cherry and a squeeze of lemon. It’s a combination to die for , Eliott.”
Lucas dares impossibly closer, brushing his lips against the latter’s cheek.
“It’s the drink that reeks of sex and love . They call it the drink that takes you straight to bed.”
He teases the other boy, dragging his lips to Eliott’s neck and pulling away immediately.
“It’s a seductive shade of red, don’t you think?” He asks finally, lightly pushing the panting boy away, who immediately moved back closer.
Eliott hums, nuzzling the side of Lucas' neck, before pulling back, his eyes dark with lust.
“You know what was really unfortunate about tonight, though?”
Lucas shakes his head.
“I was really looking forward to finding something sweet.”
Lucas hums, staring directly at the other boy.
“Yeah?”
Eliott nods, his eyes twinkling with interest.
“And did you find it?” Lucas asks, inching closer to the other boy, a warm breath tickling his own lips.
“No, I don’t think so,” Eliott pauses.
Warm fingers delicately frame Lucas’ chin, tracing its sharp edges and dancing towards the soft angles of his cheeks and stopping at the nape of his neck. His touch was electric. Sending currents that tickled the skin of his neck.
“No, I think I found something much better.”