Facade - Jacob Elordi

six

My life went back to almost normal. Almost because a day doesn't go by without moments at the party replaying in my mind. Lana was caught up on the details of that night, mostly focusing on my experience on the balcony. However, I couldn't stop thinking about everything.

All I knew was that he's no angel.

It was the next Friday. The day had dragged by with it being almost 8pm with no sign of Jacob and his table coming in. I kept checking the reservations to see if his name would magically pop up. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed.

"If you don't stop staring at the front door," Brandon scolded me while slapping my arm.

"I just don't know why they aren't here," I sulked, wanting the thrill of seeing the tall man again. This time I didn't care about the money.

"They were bound to get tired of this place. If I came here every week for months, I'd want to go somewhere else, too," He admitted, having no mercy for my boredom.

I was almost angry. I felt like I got ditched for some reason. It was routine to spend my night making sure they were taken care of. I would spend half of my night at their table talking about any and everything, but tonight I'm left with my inner dialogue. It's like a stab in the back, but maybe he regretted inviting me. He could be ashamed with how far things went. I could think of a million reasons why he wouldn't want to see me again.

Embarrassed, I continued to serve my other tables, glancing at the door during meaningless conversations. We had one hour left before close as I stood by the bar talking to Lana and Brandon. Lana had a couple tables still working on drinks while mine had all left and gone.

"Incoming," Brandon warned as the scent of cigarette smoke filled my nostrils. My body couldn't turn around. I was stuck in time, everything moving in slow motion. A disheveled Jacob grabbed a seat at the bar in my peripherals, not once looking in my direction.

His tie was lose, shirt wrinkled clear as day without a blazer. Jacob's hands shook as picked up a bar menu, eyes scanning the craft cocktail section.

"Welcome in, Mr. Elordi. What can I get for you tonight?" Brandon said as his cheery self. I envy his ability to treat guests with the same level of service regardless of the situation.

"I'll get your best whiskey, neat," He replied.

"Rough night?" Brandon joked as he pulled a bottle off the top shelf.

"Week," Jacob sighed sitting back in his chair.

Brandon poured his liquor, setting it on a cocktail napkin and walked away from the bar as he gave me a "good luck" look.

I rolled my eyes, silently cursing him for leaving me to deal with Jacob on my own. I stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. I considered just rewiping my tables to make myself look busy until the disheveled man spoke up.

"I see you've taken my advice," He said sipping his whiskey.

"What?" I asked, furrowing my brows in confusion as I stepped closer to him.

"Your tights," Jacob shrugged nonchalantly.

"Oh, yeah," It's not that I was taking his advice. I actually got in trouble for the hole at the beginning of the week. "Filip had a word with me."

"Asshole," He scoffed.

"Excuse me?" I took a step closer.

"Your boss, I mean. I don't like him," His head still looking straight.

"Doesn't that make you an asshole, too. You were the first to tell me I needed to get new ones," I said trying to get him to at least look at me.

"Hardly."