A Date with Mr. Boombastic || Biggie Cheese x Reader

Absentee

I sighed, the phone going silent for the fourth time that hour. He wasn't returning my calls or my texts.  I put on my glittery six inch heels and headed off to work, not greeted by any golden limousine from my lover. I wobbled on my heels, still a bit hungover from that wine.

When I opened the door, Kimberly was waiting with her arms crossed. She handed me a waitress' uniform. "You're taking over Jeselle's shift. Amber is sick, Lily quit, and Katie is covering for Heather." She explained. "Where's Heather?" "Some family thing. I didn't care enough to listen." Kimberly popped a bubble of gum. "Where's Jeselle?" "Trash duty. She got caught by the medieval magic bitches, and got too drunk to even gather intel, which was the bare minimum of what she was supposed to do. Either way, no important customers are coming today, so Ken, Gwen, and the others will have to do. I don't trust them with the waitress job. Well, maybe Gwen, but Ken is always with her. You know how it is." She paused, signifying her rant was over, but then started screaming into her earpiece. Whether she was talking to Jonathan or his twin brother Donathan, I had no idea. She wouldn't have cared about any response I gave anyway.

I ran to the bathroom, changed, and came back out. The outfit consisted of a skimpy neon blue tank top with the words "CLUB CEON" on it, surrounded by flames, and short jean shorts. There were no shoes, so I just kept 

 Bella whistled at me from her spot at the bar. I blushed. "Shut up. Shouldn't Ben be somewhere nearby?" "Dude, we broke up like a month ago. Where've you been?" Bella snorted. "Oh, right. Sorry." I cringed. "'S fine, man. You look sexy as hell, though." "Erm, thanks." I blushed again and took my place by the kitchen. The chef, Ayeisha, handed me three plates. "Table five. Cheese sticks, nachos, and jalapeno poppers." She said. I wobbled out of the kitchen on my glittery silver heels and out to table five.

At the table sat three over-sized, middle-aged men. They came here so often, I knew their names and their orders by heart. Involuntarily, of course. They were dicks. 

"Hey, dollface. Stuck you with the waitress shift today, eh?" Ted barked a laugh. I nodded politely, but on the inside I was already flipping him off. "I mean the shirt does you as good as the hooker uniform!" Larry hollered, slapping their third friend on the back, who was too busy wolfing down his nachos unattractively. He choked on his nachos when Larry slapped him, and I let the smallest crack of a smile show through. "Well, sirs, call me if you need me." "You're our servant, 'course baby." Ted winked. I forced a laugh and walked away, trying to pull my tank top down.

I crashed into somebody and fell back. They caught me in their arms. I looked up and it was a dark, nearly black, skinned man with sunglasses over his eyes and a pristine black and gold suit. "I'm so sorry, sir, I'll pay for your meal or your dance or whatever - Oh my gosh, really, I'm so sorry. How can I make it up to you?" I asked, sweating. "Please don't give this club a low rating, my manager will kill me." "Are those men bothering you?" The man spoke with the same voice as the limousine drivers from last night. "I... yes, they were. But it's no trouble, we get it all the time. Part of the job, y'know?" I laughed nervously. The man nodded. "I see." 

He walked over to the men, striding with suave stealthiness, and tapped them on their shoulders. They nodded, and I saw Ted's eyes roll into his head. My new friend walked back over to me. "They will stop harassing you know. Here's my card, my name is Dimitri." Between two slender fingers was a golden business card. I took it, looking over its contents. I gasped, recognizing the number.

Maybe my date hadn't stood me up after all.