Why Don't You Make Me

3

Hair slicked back, dressed in his best clothes, Leo steps out of the taxi. A couple of bystanders look his way and he just straightens out his sleeves. Knowing he is to meet Type and Fiat, he calls Type even though Fiat comes first in his contacts. For some reason, the urge to test Fiat grows stronger.

"Hey, Phi. I'm outside. Are you here?" Leo asks and is told to walk in and head over to the sectionals. When he does, he ignores the lingering stares and zeros in on the man casually accepting the attention of both men and woman passing by. He sees Type shoo them away and for a moment he smiles gratefully before he sees a confident arm swing over Fiat's shoulders. "Am I late? I forgot how the traffic here is that crazy."

"Leo, there you are! Come, you need to take a shot for being late." Leo sits at the seat beside Type and cannot help but notice the lingering dark gaze coming from the suddenly distracted company. A shot glass is presented to him and he sighs. Bringing the glass to his lips he cringes at the hit of alcohol that runs down his throat. "There we go. Here, to chase it."

A colorful drink replaces the shot glass and a sip is all Leo takes. The sweet taste is a stark contrast to the first drink, yet a lingering bitter taste comes after. Type leans a little closer and Leo internally cringes. He came with the intention to tease Fiat, but now he regrets it and wishes to just go home and hopefully take Fiat with him. Leo was unsuccessful on getting his chance to talk to Fiat that day and he does not know when he will. Since landing, Leo has been doing the complete opposite of what he is use to just to get closer to Fiat.

"So you can handle your alcohol?" Type talks close to Leo in order to be heard through the music. Leo backs away slightly and shrugs. Being in business, there are multiple occasions where a casual drink is shared between potential partners and clients are scheduled. To say, Leo can handle his alcohol is an understatement. His tolerance has slowly increased over time and at most, he gets a little tired after a night out.

In the corner of his eyes he sees someone stand from the table and walk away. He is about to question it, when Type guides his face back to him. "He's probably off to have some fun on his own. We can have a bit of fun too, right?"

"Uh, I'm just going to pass by the restroom," Leo slides out of the booth and wiggles his way past the buzzed bodies to the poorly labeled restroom. He sidesteps around the people eating each other's faces and necks. After doing his business, he goes to wash his hands. He is minding his own business, when Type appears, tongue deep in some older man's mouth with wide shoulders. They bump into walls before slipping into a cubicle and Leo shivers at the sight. "At least I don't have to worry about avoiding him all night."

Leo makes his way back out only to find their table taken over by a new group of people. It makes him sigh and wander towards the bar. He slips onto a vacant stool and waves over the bartender.

"Hey," a woman to his left greets him and he politely smiles. "I saw you with some guys earlier. Friends?"

"Something like that. Are you alone?" Leo decides that there is no real harm in a little bit of small talk. His occupation requires it to be able to dig in on some insight on market numbers. The woman smiles and shakes her head as she tucks some hair behind her ear. He offers a hand to her. "Leo."

"Kim," her dainty hand takes his. "Is this place not your usual scene too?"

"You can say that," Leo chuckles. "How come your friends left you here alone?"

"Oh, I let them go dance on their own. I feel like the ones who sit at the bar are usually the ones who have more of a story to them and like meeting people through conversation than getting up on everyone's business." Kim surprises Leo with her words. He gives a genuine smile and raises his glass to his lips. "I said something you liked. Sorry, I have a habit of reading people."