~*~ Louis ~*~
Louis tosses an empty bottle in the trash. “I’m going to the back to get grenadine. Anything else?”
“We could use some limes soon. I had a run on tequila shots earlier.”
“Got it,” Louis acknowledges. “I’ll grab an extra keg while I am at it. The barback should be here in an hour. He’s running a bit late.”
Louis isn’t gone long, not more than ten minutes. When he returns, he puts the keg near the end so they can pull it when they need it. Situating the grenadine and limes into their correct places, he washes his hands at the sink and takes his place to the left of Liam to take the next order.
“Hey, Tommo. The guy at the end of the bar is asking for you.” Liam tilts his head faintly to his right.
Louis shifts his eyes to where Liam indicated, and his breath catches. It’s the guy. The one from the chat room. The glitch. It can’t be though. He wasn’t here last week. Louis would remember that face anywhere. It must be something else. He is not disappointed. Not at all. Shit, why couldn’t this be Harry?
He moves closer to Liam. “Did he say what he wants?” he murmurs almost imperceptibly.
“No, but he knows your real name.” Liam, following suit, keeps his voice in a low, nearly silent rumble.
Louis walks around Liam to the lad leaning against the bar and greets him. Wide, brilliant, green eyes meet his. Eyes that he could get lost in if he allows himself the chance. He finds himself wishing again that this was Harry. If the “fix” that he’s supposed to meet tonight keeps him from getting to know this man in front of him, he’s going to lose his mind; because this man, well, this man in front of him, Louis could fall arse over tits for.
Louis pulls the towel off his shoulder and makes quick work of cleaning up the minor spill from the man’s drink. If this is the worst thing he cleans up today, he will count his blessings.
“Are you, uh, Tommo? I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do this. I’m, uh, I’m looking for, um, Tommo, I think. No, yes. Yes, Tommo,” the man stammers, face pinking in the prettiest blush Louis has ever seen. Louis’ heart thumps hard in his chest as his stomach jumps into his throat. This is Harry. His Harry. There are no lingering doubts in his mind. He just knows.
“I’m Harry,” the man continues like Louis isn’t having a full blow existential crisis inside. Not that Harry would be able to tell as Louis is an expert at keeping his features schooled, having long ago learned his lesson about being too open.
Behind him he hears a girl order an Angel shot. He instantly whips his head around canvassing the entire room and everything around him. Seconds later, he is at Liam’s side, taking over. “On it.”
Liam steps to the side and takes the next customer’s order. “What can I get for you tonight?”
Eyes focusing on every detail of the girl, missing nothing, Louis asks, “Do you want lime with that?”
“Maybe. I don’t know,” she whispers, her frightened eyes stare back at him, begging him.
Louis takes a glass and fills it with water from a repurposed liquor bottle and places it in front of the girl, a smile plastered across his face, for all intents and purposes appearing to be serving her a drink. The girl’s eyes get wide as a man comes up behind her, arms wrapping around her waist, one hand pushing under her shirt, the other dropping to down her leg and up her skirt. Terror flashes over her face before she quickly represses it.
