evanescence (2.) | ✔️

Epilogue // Romano De Carlo

        HE LOOKED LOST.

        Clothed in a purple, blue, and black shirt with matching black jeans, he was dressed far more conservatively than the majority of people that walked into this club. I'd been here a month and even I knew that. I watch as he climbs into the seat just a few feet from me, glancing around the club with wide eyes that couldn't seem to stop staring. He was new, then.

        I walk up to him, smiling as kindly as possible. His eyes take me in, honing in on my tattoos and piercings with even wider eyes. I fight back a laugh. I was used to those reactions by now. "What can I get you?" I ask, talking a bit loudly over the sound of the music playing.

        He glances at me and then the drinks behind me before speaking. "Oh, just a water with ice, please."

        I nod once, quickly making his drink and adding a lemon to the top. "Can I see your ID?" I ask curiously, wondering if my hunch had been wrong or not. He frowns deeply and a small patch of red appears on his cheeks. I wasn't wrong, then. He still pulls out the card and hands it to me. His hands are shaking.

        "Since when do you need ID to serve water?" the boy asks and I smirk. He was confident, at least. If I wasn't so well-versed in underage drinking, I might've believed him.

        I shrug my shoulders once. "I don't. I just wanted to see how good your fake was that you were even allowed to step in here," I say, staring at the ID he'd handed me. It wasn't bad at all. As I said, it could've easily fooled another bartender. But I knew better.

        "How did you—?"

        I smile. "You're looking at the king of fake IDs here. This one's not bad. Seems a little off-center, but...," I say. My voice trails off and I watch him gulp, no doubt wondering what I was going to do now that I knew he'd snuck in here. My stomach sinks. I didn't want him to be afraid of me. "I'm Roman," I say, sticking out my hand.

        He stares at it for a moment before reaching forward, too, shaking my hand. "I'm Braylen." Braylen. I didn't think I'd ever heard the name before, and yet, it seemed to fit him perfectly somehow. He blows out a breath, leaning forward, and his hair falls like a curtain over half his face. "Are you going to kick me out?" he asks, still afraid. I don't mean to laugh, but I do. I hand him his drink, watching as he watches it with those curious eyes of his.

        "No," I respond. "You seem sweet. And I figure you didn't go to a gay club just to get drunk. So what's your story, Braylen?"

         I liked the way his name sounded when I said it. I wanted to say it again.

        "I don't know," he murmurs, running a finger along with the condensation of the glass. "It's kind of a long one."

        I glance at the crowd, noticing that half of them are already beyond drunk. They wouldn't be coming back to the bar for a while, at least. With a smile, I turn back to Braylen. Braylen, who is already looking at me.

        "I think I've got time."

¥

        HE ASKED FOR ME.

        I'd clocked in on time, just like any other day, ready for the endless drunks and flirts that I encounter every night. But one smirk from Kacey told me that tonight would be different.

        "Jenny said your boyfriend is back. And that he asked specifically for you," she says with a wicked grin. I scowl at her, but I can't ignore the excitement bubbling in my chest. A small smile spreads across my face and I turn away so Kacey can't see.