Chapter Text
Ilya is a perceptive bar tender. Shane is a handsome stranger that has checked his watch and the door a total of 20 times in the last 30 minutes. The other patrons are starting to take notice.
Ilya: Here.
Ilya places a glass in front of Shane.
Shane: Oh. Uh. I didn’t order that.
Ilya: Yes. I know this, but you are beginning to depress others with your sad puppy face.
Shane: It’s not...I didn’t...I’m being stood up, aren’t I?
Ilya: Sorry. Drink.
Shane: Yeah. Thanks.
Ilya: You are welcome. Please try switching it up a bit though. Maybe play game on phone? Fake texting? Anything to look like you have not lost all light from eyes, yes?
*Later*
Ilya: You are still here.
Shane: He texted. Running late at work.
Ilya: So, he is still coming?
Shane: No. Said he was exhausted. Wanted to reschedule.
Ilya: And are you going to reschedule?
Shane: No. I mean. I don’t know. Beggars can’t be choosers, right?
Ilya: There is no world where someone as pretty as you has to beg. Unless it is fun kind of begging.
Shane: Well thanks but I’m not exactly interesting in the long run and I’m not looking for casual so...
Ilya: Ah. So, you are boring.
Shane: No. I’m particular.
Ilya: Particularly boring?
Shane: Fuck off. Well, I guess I’ll head out. Thank you for...yeah.
Ilya: It is my job to help poor sad patrons.
Shane: Okay asshole, have a good night.
Ilya: Ilya.
Shane: What?
Ilya: My name. Is Ilya, not asshole.
Shane: Oh. Ilya, cool. Shane...me...I’m...my name is Shane.
Ilya: Goodnight Shane.
Shane: Goodnight Ilya.
Ilya looks down to find a tip of well over 20 percent sitting on the countertop.