Chapter Text
I like it here.
The dinging of the slot machines, the cheers when somebody wins, the way I can always tell when someone was delt a good or bad hand by only the slightest twitch. Or, maybe it's only luck. I am the luckiest person on earth, after all.
But today it feels like a little too much. I don't know what it is, but everything is too loud. Usually I can just tune it out, because I literally live here, but this time I can't, weirdly. Maybe going out for some fresh air would help. Slipping away might not be easy, but i'll be careful.
I keep hearing my name, but I just ignore it. I can't be in this place a second longer. I slip through the small back door which leads to a small alley with dumpsters. It stinks, but I don't really care.
Oh. I forgot to check the weather.
So, there I am, standing outside in just a black tuxedo with a fedora and my sunglasses. Don't judge me, okay? I like being dressed this way. But it's late November, I should've been smarter than to not go out without a coat, but I don't feel like going back in. But it still seems loud, so, I walk.
Maybe for, like, an hour or two. Or maybe three? I can't remember.
It's getting really cold. Honestly I shouldn't have come out here in the first place. It's dark, freezing, and on top of that, I'm actually getting kind of hungry. I should've thought to bring something. Maybe I should turn back, but something tells me not to.
I'm not one to believe in divine forces or whatever, but it feels like I just can't stop walking. Like i'm being pushed toward something. I've never even walked down this way before, I don't know why I am. Hopefully I'll remember the way back. Maybe my constant shivering has clouded my thoughts, though. Not good.
Isn't there a pizza place nearby?
Oh, of course. Builder Brothers pizza. Most popular pizzeria in Robloxia, even if it's kind of understaffed. They're known for their fast deliveries, good service, and overall just good pizza. Of course, I've never been, because I live more in the city, but I've seen advertisements. They have the cutest guy in a lot of them, supposedly the son of one of the founders. I don't remember his name though. I wonder if he actually works there, or if he's taken over the family business or whatever. His family's got to be rich as fuck from the popularity.
Despite being such a tiny place in such a tiny town, it's usually booming. But it's closer to nighttime, so there's less customers. That means the line is smaller. Good for me, I guess.
I walk in and immediately feel warmer. Also hungrier. Man, I can tell why people like this place.
People are laughing with each other, enjoying the place fully, and best of all, they're being nice to the cashiers. There are many stories I've heard from customer service workers, and if I'm being honest, there are so many assholes at the casino. Hard to gamble in peace when you're being harassed about something you "rigged." Look, it's not my fault some people are unlucky. I own pretty much the only casino that isn't rigged. Yeah, I gamble at my own casino. What's wrong with that?
My shivering comes to a halt as I walk into the line. Damn, it really doesn't take long to get an order taken.
I wonder if it goes this smoothly all the time, I wouldn't know. I mean, I hope it does. When so much shit is going on around you, it's nice to get done with it quick. And also, it really sucks when-
I feel my fedora get pulled off of my head from behind. I'm ready to yell at this person for trying to steal my sparkle-time fedora.
"Hey!" I shout.
..But instead I whip around to face a toddler being held by his mother.
I lower my voice, almost awkwardly. "Oh. Uh. Could I get that back, little dude?" I say, trying not to come across as rude.
The toddler does not comply. He throws it across the floor, laughing. That little shit.
"Oh my gosh, sir, I am so sorry." The mother says, seeming way too tired for this. "He doesn't know when to stop sometimes. That's clearly a limited, too, that really sucks. Go get it, I'll hold your spot in line for you."
"Will you? Oh, thanks!" I reply kindly as I walk over to pick my fedora up, blood boiling. I wish that wasn't a two year old so I could actually shout at him.
I pick it up and put it back on top of my head and shoot my head back up.
And that's when I saw.
I almost forget about the shitty little toddler, or what I was here for initially.
It's only a glimpse, or so I thought. This guy seems to be talking almost too joyfully for someone who's working at a pizzeria at like ten in the evening.
The clean red button-up shirt and matching ROBLOX visor. The yellow skin and pulled back yellow hair being nearly the same colour.
I thought I was warm enough before, but the warmth is getting almost overwhelming now, sort of. Fuck, I need to get back in line.
I hurry over and squeeze myself into my original spot in line, directly in front of the woman from earlier. Shit, if it wasn't for that toddler..
Nah, I would've seen that guy behind the counter anyway. That little shit didn't do anything.
Should I say something when I get up there? What would I even say? It would be stupid to-
Oh. I'm here.
He doesn't notice, though. He's turned around talking to someone in the kitchen behind him, leaning against the little counter below the window.
"Hey." I hear a voice call. I glance over to see a girl with dark pink hair tied up into a bun, wearing the same uniform the guy I saw was.
"Dude, you've got a customer." She says, tapping his shoulder.
His gaze shoots to her before he turns to get back to the counter. He seems... Off. Not that I even know the guy, but the last few customers he was greeting and serving with ease and happiness. Now he's kind of just staring.
"Uhh..." he manages.
"I'm- uh..." I mutter.
His coworker elbows him, bumping him to the side a bit.
"R-right. Yeah. Hey. Wh... What would you like? Haha..." He smiles as he steadies himself, placing one hand on the counter with the other on his hip.
He seems nervous, I wonder why that is.
Well, if he's nervous, I guess I've got to be the confident one. I place my hands onto the counter and lean forward.
"Could a handsome person like me get a pepperoni and a soda?"
His expression changes. He mirrors the way I'm standing; leaning against the counter, bringing us closer.
"Well, this handsome person is out of luck. We've got no soda left."
"Aw, I'm never out of luck."
"Alright, Mister lucky." He says, putting the words Mister lucky in air quotes. "You're gonna have to-"
"Elliot!" Somebody from the kitchen calls. The guy at the counter snaps his head back. "We've got more soda now!"
The guy, apparently named Elliot, moves his head to face me again.
"Guess it's your lucky day, huh?" He smirks.
My gaze falters to his name tag, and surely enough, it reads "Elliot B." Where have I heard that before?
Maybe I looked at the name tag for a little too long, because he moves a hand onto my chin and lifts my head up.
"My eyes are up here." He says teasingly.
Fuck, now I'm the nervous one.
"I was, uh... I was reading your name tag."
"My name is Elliot, yeah." He laughs, which makes my heart skip a beat.
Elliot pauses. "Um. Are you sweating right now?"
I gasp before standing up straight. "No. No, I'm not. It's really cold out, why would I be sweating?"
"Do I make you nervous, lucky?"
"No, that's just... Y'know, the suit is really warm, and-"
"Yeah. I totally believe that. So... A pepperoni and a soda, then?" He says, straightening himself up as well to enter my order.
"Y-yeah. That. 'Cause that's what I came here to get."
"Here or to go?"
"Uh... Here."
"Great. I wanna look at you more." He whispers, but intentionally loud enough for me to hear. I can tell that much by the way he's looking at me. It's almost like he knows my weaknesses.
"That'll be... Ten fifty."
"Sure thing."
"And who knows? Maybe i'll come sit with ya later." He smiles. God, his smile. Not even the sun could shine just as bright.
I leave a fifty dollar tip for Elliot.
Hey, I'm stupid rich. Sixty dollars and fifty cents is nothing.
...
I've been waiting for a pretty long time. But, y'know, pizza takes a while to make. Suddenly, a chair across from me squeaks.
"Hey, handsome." I hear as my pizza and soda get laid out in front of me.
"Elliot! You're a person of your word, huh?"
"Yup. That was actually the last order made before I clocked out. Technically I got off at ten-thirty, but I wanted to deliver it to ya myself."
"Oh, so I'm special?" I smile.
"Definitely." He answers.
"Don't you wanna know my name, Elliot?" I say, trying to use a flirty tone of voice. It probably just came across to him as weird, though.
"Yeah. It'd be better."
"I'm Chance and my pronouns are he they."
"Hm. Is that, like, a nickname, or..?"
"Nah. It's my name from birth."
"Can I give you nicknames?"
That might've made me blush.
"Sure."
"Okay..." he says, crossing his arms and leaning back. Smiling, and not breaking eye contact.
"So..." he clicks his tongue before he stretches. Oh my god.
Get it together. You just met him.
"You haven't eaten it." He mumbles.
"What?"
"That was made for you and you're not eating it." He says, raising his voice and leaning back in.
"Um... I'm gonna be honest, I totally forgot about it. Hey, do you want to..."
"Share? Nah. I don't like pizza."
That strikes me as confusing. If he doesn't like pizza, why does he even work here?
"Okay..." I mutter, opening the box. "Hope it's not cold."
He looks at me seriously. "It better not be or I'm having a word with the cooks."
I shut the box again."You can do that?"
His expression and tone of voice change back to before; flirty, happy and confident."I've worked here a while. I'm highly respected and stuff."
"Nice." I say, smiling back. I hope he doesn't realize how fucking scared I am of screwing this up.
"So, do you... Um... Can I..."
"Hm?" He says. Still somehow in that curious, flirty tone of voice. How does he know my weaknesses?!
I'm trying to be smooth, but instead my own voice betrays me. "Can I... Like... Get your number?" I say, my voice cracking.
Elliot laughs a short, quiet laugh. "I was hoping so," He pulls out a sharpie. "Or else this'd get awkward fast." He quickly jots down his number on the pizza box, putting a heart next to it. That made me freeze up again. He waves a hand in front of my face, and I snap out of it. Kind of.
"Th-thanks. Elliot. Haha."
Man, this guy looks familiar.
"No problem, Mister lucky." He flirts.
"You're not bad, pizza boy."
Elliot chuckles. "First time I've been called pizza boy in an endearing way."
He smiles. Bright. That smile could light up all of Robloxia. When I don't respond, he looks to the ground, almost embarassed. "Well, I better head out. It's getting late." He glances back up at me. "Need a ride?"
He freezes.
"N-need a ride home, I mean." He mutters before shifting in his chair awkwardly.
"Y-yeah. That's what I thought. Yeah, I walked a couple hours to get here."
"No way you can afford limiteds but not a car."
"I have a car!" I stutter. "I just wanted to walk and... Didn't stop until I got to this area. Then decided, hey, what if I got a pizza?"
"Ha. Alright. I'll drive you if ya want."
"That sounds nice."
We walk out together as I'm still holding my pizza box and soda. Elliot pulls out his keys to unlock his car and let me in. I keep the pizza and soda with me and strap myself into the car. Elliot starts the car and pulls out of the small parking lot.
"So... I'm gonna assume you live in the city since it took you hours to get here."
"Uh... Yeah." I mutter awkwardly, secretely wishing I could look into Elliots eyes right now. Too bad he's, y'know, driving, and has to pay attention to the road.
"Where do you want me to drop you off?"
"Um... That one really big casino."
"Are you gambling addict?!" Elliot shouts, sounding distraught.
"I inherited the casino from my parents. Also I live there."
"Oh. Is it rigged?"
"Fuck no! I'm all about luck, chance, and risk. If someone loses, that's chance. If they win, it's chance. If someone wins at, say, poker, it's skill mixed with luck. Y'know?"
"And you're the luckiest person in the world or something?"
"Yeah, I'd say so."
"Maybe you're lucky to have met me." He says in that flirting tone again. Fuck.
...
Sadly, after almost an hour of driving and flirting back and forth, we arrive. Elliot pulls over to let me get out. After I close the door he rolls the passenger seats window down and shouts to me.
"Goodnight, Mister lucky. Don't dream about me too much." He winks.
"I just might."
"Hm. Guess I'm the lucky one, then." He says, smiling, before rolling up the window and pulling out into the road once more. I sneak to the back to enter the same door I left out of before I'm met with one of my employees.
"Boss! We've been looking for ya!"
"Oh. Sorry." I mutter.
"Oh, you went out for pizza. And took like four hours to do so." He says.
"Yeah."
I stay silent for a few seconds, considering whether or not to tell him about Elliot. I carefully place my pizza and soda down on a table nearby.
"Uh, hey, you worked at Builder Brothers for a bit, right?" I mumble.
"Yep. I was a cook for a bit. Why?" He questions.
"I met a worker."
"You meet workers all the time there."
I start flailing my arms around, speaking a little louder and panicked. "No, I mean, a guy! Like, he sat with me, flirted with me back. Usually when I flirt they just say it was cute or that I'm handsome and stuff, but nope, he flirted back. And then he sat with me for a while after his shift! He was actually the best guy I've met in a while and I've only known him a few hours. Oh my god, a few hours! The pizza he gave me is probably cold! He gave me his number, too. His number!"
"What's this got to do with me?" He says.
"Well, he said he'd been working there a long time, I thought you might recognize the name." I answer.
"Okay. What's his name?"
"Elliot."
He freezes, as if having a realization. "What... What did he look like? And don't say beautiful or anything. I want a description." He says, more seriously.
"Um... He had yellow skin and yellow hair long enough for him to tie back. He was wearing a ROBLOX visor and what I assume to be the cashiers uniform."
He looks shocked. "Chance."
"What?" I say.
"Elliot Builder."
"Who?"
"Elliot Builder! The face of Builder Brothers pizza! One of the sons of the brothers?! Ring a bell? Chance, this better go somewhere. I've seen him kick out customers for flirting with him. Do not fuck this up."
"Oh. Oh! Oh my god, I flirted with Elliot Builder."
"You really are the luckiest person alive if he flirted back and gave you his number." He says sternly. "Please tell me you were genuine and this isn't just some situationship forever."
"Right. Yeah. I'm genuine."
"Good. You better be." He says. "And I've gotta go, my shift is over."
As he walks away, I stand there feeling stranded. Did I actually just flirt with Elliot Builder himself? Did it actually work? How didn't I recognize it was him?
Fuck.
I can't let this go. I won't let this go, actually. I really want something to come out of this.
I can only hope he feels the same way about the situation, I guess.