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

Contract (Part 1)

I had just gotten off my Friday shift and was taking off my glittery silver heels when my phone dinged, signaling a text message.

I sighed. Jeselle probably gave it out again to some perv, feeling bad for me since I got rejected last week. Besides, I didn't have time to talk right now. Fridays were always the busiest night of the week, and it was currently 4:37 in the morning. I was tried out of my mind. I wasn't surprised when I saw that the message was from an unknown number, but I was surprised at the content of the message.

Unknown:

The restaurant from last week. Sunday night, same time as before.  Bring the contract. Have you looked at it yet?

What the hell did any of that mean?

I was about to block the number, when I realized I did recognize it. It was the number labeled 'emergency' on the note my date had given me last Friday. 

Me:

 Contract?

I realized the person on the other end of the conversation was probably referring to the packet of yellow papers my rich date had given me before he took his phone call and left. 

Me: Yes, I know what you're talking about.

Unknown:

Good. Please refrain from replying to this conversation any further, and only contact it in the case of an emergency. Read over the contract tonight, Miss (l/n), so you can be ready for Sunday.

What? How did the person know my last name? Why were they being so cryptic? I couldn't respond, obviously, because that was an order.

It was late, so I put my phone up, slipped my sneakers on, and left Club Ceon. When I got home, I plopped on my couch and passed out. The next morning, I awoke to my phone ringing. Not because of my alarm, but because of a call. Apparently I'd slept in on accident. I swiped up to answer the call. I would have ignored it, because I was so tired,but it was from my boss, Kimberly.

"Where are you? It's not your day off, (y/n)!"

"H-hey, um, I'm taking the day off. Sorry, I just... need to rest. Last night was rough" I said groggily.

"I'm sorry, are you sick? Is it cancer? Are you saving the world? Are you curing cancer?"

"Uh, no, but -"

"That's what I thought. Get up, get your ass over here, and work."

"I work harder than Amber and Katie, which is saying a lot. I deserve this."

"Fine, but we're taking it out of your vacation time."

"... That's okay by me. Why are you so pissed today?"

"Lily went to join the medieval bitches, Jonathan parked the limo in the wrong lot for the new location, and the Avions are throwing a party tonight. You know what that means."

"You have to be responsible for all alcohol consumption by Kat, and the kitchen isn't allowed to make mojitos." I sighed, all too familiar with the Avions and their barbaric party antics. 

"Yeah, exactly! You still off?"

"If you really need me, I'll be there, but I plan on staying home." I yawned.

"Fine, okay. Whatever. Bye, (y/n)."

"Bye, Kimberly."

Kimberly hung up, and I went back to bed for another thirty minutes. After that, I went to the kitchen to make coffee and waffles, my favorite breakfast, and then grabbed the packet of yellow paper that sat on one of my bar stools. The title of it, printed in bold black capital letters, read "BIGGIE CHEESE RELATIONSHIP CONTRACT"