Louis checked his phone again, hoping (though with very little hope) that he had gotten the time wrong and that he wasn't being stood up in his late twenties. However, the fact of the matter is, this was kind of his fault. He never had time to date while clocking the hours he did at Vogue during the first quarter of the year (a job he had been chasing after most of his adult life, he shouldn't even be complaining) thus leaving him in the incapable hands of the Grindr app. He didn't make it a regular habit to dabble in random hookups, but he was exhausted and stressed out from work, and sometimes you just needed a helping hand that was not your own.
Which from the looks of it he would not be getting tonight, as 'John' (25) from the Midwest was over a half an hour late. He let out a sigh of defeat and signaled the bartender for a drink, because the responsible water he had started with was not going to cut it anymore. He didn't love wasting the precious free time that he had, but he was at Balthazar, which was one of his favorite restaurants, so he was going to at least enjoy that aspect of this letdown. Honestly, the nerve, his hookup was getting the gold standard treatment here, it's not like they were meeting at a TGI Fridays in midtown.
Not to mock TGI's or anything, after all Louis had spent his fair share of time there in his early New York years because it reminded him of home. Fifteen-year-old Louis thought that TGI's was the shit and a super romantic place to share a milkshake and a kiss with the girl of your dreams. It took him another year to realize that he was, 1. Wrong and 2. Very gay. The one in Manchester in particular held a very special place in his heart, as his first and only girlfriend broke up with him there because she realized that he was really going there to check out the bartender that looked like Chad Michael Murray, and she was okay with that.
Louis turned his attention back to his present day bartender, offering him a tight smile as he accepted his drink and swerved around on his stool to take in the atmosphere. It was a weeknight, so the restaurant wasn't as hectic as it usually was but the bar was considerably full, probably with people's dates that actually showed up. He glanced down at his phone, briefly acknowledging the familiar work related notification, when someone grazed his shoulder, squeezing into the space at the bar next to him.
The movement had him directing his eyes up at a head full of curls, which were adorned with a makeshift crown of pastel colored daisies. He squint his eyes and took another pull of his drink, mesmerized by this lanky flower boy who was now giving him a thoughtful look himself.
"Hello,"
Louis nodded towards the top of his head. "I thought festival season didn't start until the summer,"
His lips twitched as he leaned his hip against the bar. "Coachella starts in April, actually."
Louis raised his eyebrows, impressed that he had a comeback well prepared. "Oh, well. Pardon me."
He grinned effortlessly. "You are excused." He offered out his hand, which glittered with all kinds of rings, "M'Harry,"
"Louis." He let go and scanned his eyes over his face. He had lovely features, big and bright and the way his eyes were sparkling made him look radiant and a bit angelic, but the rest of him wrapped up in black contradicted that. Louis was slightly curious, so he kept talking. "What brings you and your flowers here on this Wednesday evening?"
He shrugged, glancing down at a perfectly manicured pink nail. "Just felt like getting out for a bit, nothing special. What about you?"
"I work at Vogue," he provided, knowing that its reputation for sucking the personal life out of its employees was universal thanks to the Devil Wears Prada. "So, I was using my few hours of freedom to be here and I got stood up."
