Hearing him use my middle name felt strangely nostalgic tonight. I tried to coax him into entertaining me, knowing it would be a long time before I heard that name again. Adopting my middle name was the only way I felt truly comfortable navigating this male role, after all. It was a mask that fit better than most.
Contrary to his teasing, he immediately began preparing a champagne cocktail for me. He knew I had a weakness for something sweet and sugary to kick-start my night.
"Not just a good story, but a great ones, you say?" Ruben mused, shaking the mixer with practiced ease. "I don't think I have one—not yet, at least. You've arrived far too early, as I said."
"I see. That's a pity." I watched him serve the drink with a flourish, his movements fluid from hours of warming up. He set the glass down quietly, waiting for my usual word of thanks, but I felt like breaking the routine tonight. "Hold onto the bottle. I'll be wanting another glass very soon."
"Hm? Now that is rare." Ruben looked genuinely surprised. He was well aware that I usually came here to save money. Of course, he still had no idea that I shouldn't even be allowed in here to begin with.
"Not if it takes too long to get a free one. Today, I just want to drink whenever the mood strikes me."
Ruben paused, his expression softening into one of concern. "Did something happen? You seem a bit out of sorts. It's unlike you."
"I'm fine." I let out a short, forced laugh. "I guess I'm just tired of the monotony. You know how it is."
"Well, sure, I get that. Chin up, buddy." He winked at me. "I might even be tempted to buy you one myself if you keep up this low-energy act."
"Really? Then I'll definitely keep it up. Buy me a drink, Ruben!"
"Heh. Don't be daft." Ruben chuckled, amused by my shamelessness. He gestured with his head as he moved down the bar. "Take it slow. If no one shows up by the time you've finished that one, I'll sacrifice a bit of my pay tonight to get you another."
"You promise?"
"Promise!"
"Alright. I'll take it slow." I looked down at the fizzy drink, taking a moment to admire the vibrant colour before taking a sip. As the sweet flavour coated my tongue, I heard a familiar voice from behind me. A heavy weight leaned onto the bar right beside my elbow.
"How come you're here so early?"
I jumped, the liquid splashing against the back of my throat. I coughed harshly, my lungs burning. "Ugh—I almost choked just then!" I shifted my stool, creating a bit of distance so I could get a proper look at him. "Xavier. I could ask you the exact same thing."
"Does that mean you won't tell me why?"
"Since you're clearly not going to tell me, it's only fair that I keep my secrets too, right?"
"Hah." Xavier let out a dry laugh. "Will you change your mind today?"
"Will the sun fail to rise tomorrow?"
"Haaa—still a hard and harsh 'no', then?" He sighed dramatically, acting as though he were deeply wounded, though he ruined the performance with a sly smirk. He sat down right next to me, resting his jaw on his hand. I felt his other hand make its usual attempt to crawl up my back as I took another sip. "So, even though it's early, you're already drinking—"
"Don't touch me."
"I'm not, I'm not!" he trilled, his voice lilted with a playful rhythm. He pulled his hand back from where it had been hovering near the ends of my short hair, sitting up straight before catching the bartender's eye. "Ruben."
"Coming right up," Ruben answered, already reaching for Xavier's preferred bottle. He was well-accustomed to the routine.
As usual, Xavier was dressed to the nines in expensive, designer labels. He always maintained the neat, polished look of a wealthy man, but the moment he opened his mouth, the illusion of high-society manners tended to crumble.
"So, how has your day been? Any good news in that boring life of yours, Connor? Besides the fact that someone already bought you a drink?" His way of speaking wasn't nearly as cold or cynical as I'd expect from a man of his status.
"Not really." I decided to answer, swirling the ice in my glass. I couldn't help but smirk, knowing I'd actually paid for this one myself. "Everything's just the same as usual, I suppose. But if I had to say—actually, today I received an e—"
"Xavier, what's taking so long? You said you were getting us drinks!" The man Xavier had presumably arrived with interrupted me, cutting me off mid-sentence. He caught sight of Ruben preparing a glass. "Oh, so you've already ordered? Is this mine?"
"Ah, yes. Forget it. I'm drinking here, alright?" Xavier's voice had turned cold and disinterested in an instant.
"Sigh. Okay, so what did you order—"
"Look, I'm with a friend," Xavier snapped, his tone sharp enough to draw blood. He cut the man off as he tried to squeeze into the seat next to him. Xavier moved away pointedly, making his rejection clear. "Don't sit here. You should just go and find somewhere else to hang out."
"Hah. This is a joke, right?"
"No. I'm staying here. Go have fun on your own, or find someone else."
It was another one of those scenes Xavier loved to stage. I kept my eyes glued to my drink, feeling the heat of the other man's glare. He clearly thought it was my fault, while Xavier just gave him a seemingly innocent smile to usher him away.
It was moments like these that reminded me what a total as*hole Xavier could be when he wasn't trying to charm someone.
"Is it because of this—guy?" the man spat.
"Think whatever you like. I'm staying here, so don't ruin my night. Be a nice boy, alright?" Xavier used a specific, velvet-smooth tone that always seemed to settle these disputes. I saw the man's face flush slightly—a sure sign that Xavier had won yet another match with ease.
"Hmph, whatever. I guess I wasted my time."
"Mhm, bye-bye!" Xavier chirped, waving a dismissive hand.
Aggravated but trying to cling to his pride, the man stormed off. Xavier turned back to me as if nothing had happened, his expression shifting back to one of casual interest.
"Sorry about that. You were saying?"
"I was saying that everything is as usual."
"That's good."
"It is, yeah." I took a moment to consider his comment. I smiled, realising it was true—things were exactly as they should be, evolving naturally. But he wouldn't know anything about that evolution now. My desire to share the news with him had completely faded. "I think it's a really good thing. Being 'as usual'."
"You like it that much? Did something good actually happen?"
"Not really. I said everything's as usual, didn't I? I'm just sharing a thought. Don't get noisy about it."
"Hm." He perked up, looking curious and a little doubtful, but at my sharp retort, he realised I wasn't going to budge. He dropped the topic, likely aware that I wouldn't be opening up this time, just as I hadn't with so many other things. "How long will you be around here today? Want to go somewhere else?"
"I said: Don't. Touch. Me." I glared at him as his hand made a second attempt to fiddle with the strings of my hoodie. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not going anywhere with you. I'm not gay, Xavier."
"Not even after all the drinks I've bought for you since we met?"
"You invited me while being perfectly aware that I'm not gay. You took that gamble all on your own."
"Connor—come on." He leaned in closer, his scent a mix of expensive cologne and bourbon. "I assure you that I would give you a fun time if you just let me."
"This much fun is plenty for me, thank you. I don't need the kind of 'fun' you're looking for."
"Alright, alright. I understand."
"Hm? That's it?"
"What is?"
"You're not going to keep being annoying?" I sneered at him, teasing his sudden lack of persistence. He usually didn't give up quite so easily.