A small Korean cafe in the suburbs. Despite the fact that Chiang Rai is the northernmost province of Thailand, the temperature outside is boiling hot. At least a couple of AC are working inside. Vegas takes a seat at the table in the corner. There are thin cushions on the seats and backs of the chairs. The walls are decorated with mythological scenes.
It's cozy here, although it's easy to feel the provincial spirit. Without removing the sunglasses with round lenses and thin frames, which became the most fashionable model in the 60s thanks to John Lennon, Vegas carefully looks around. So far, no one thinks to approach him. But as soon as he turns to the window, a childish, perky voice sounds from the side:
"HI! Are you ready to order?"
Vegas turns at the sound of the voice and, just in case, shifts the teashades to his forehead. And he almost opens his mouth. In front of his table there is a boy of about eight years old. The waiter's turquoise apron almost completely covers his legs. The kid's head has the same haircut that Vegas used to wear at his age. And on his chubby cheeks — Vegas has a lump in his throat — there are very familiar dimples from a smile. And the eyes are like a reflection of someone very important.
"What will you eat and drink?" The kid significantly puts the menu in front of him. Vegas is grinning and doesn't know how to react yet.
"Hmm," Vegas accepts the rules of the game, "let's see." Vegas starts skimming the menu. "Maybe you can recommend some dish?"
"Champon!"
"Uh... Champon?"
"Yes! Spicy soup with noodles and shrimp! Dad loves to cook it himself."
Vegas bites his lower lip:
"Mmm... and who is your dad? What's his name?"
"Vegas!"
Vegas's heart skips a beat when a woman's voice loudly pronounces his name. Soon its owner appears before him.
"Vegas, are you at it again?" a girl of about thirty turns to a kid caught off guard, "why did you take my apron?"
Vegas? And what is this supposed to mean?
"I'm sorry," the girl says to big Vegas now. "He likes to play waiter. I'll serve you now." She takes the apron from the kid and gently pushes him, "run quickly to Dad."
His little namesake looks at Vegas with the corners of his mouth down, sighs resentfully and babbles:
"Bye..."
Vegas shrugs and waves at him.
"Ready to order?"
Vegas looks at the waitress's pleasant features, then nods:
"Your little assistant recommended spicy soup with noodles and shrimp. I'll have it," Vegas reads the name on the badge, "Layan."
"Alright," Layan marks the dish in the app. "And for a drink?"
"Just still water with lime and ice."
"Good. You'll need to wait about fifteen minutes. Shall I leave the menu?"
"No, thanks. Yes, I'll wait."
YOU ARE READING
you're the little thing, my saving grace
FanficLittle Vegas finds protection from a tyrant father in the face of a new bodyguard. Growing up, he begins to feel more and more affection for him, refusing to understand that Pete still sees him only as a child and the son of his boss...
