𝕎𝕙𝕠 𝔻𝕠 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝔸𝕣𝕖? (Oc Story)

Chapter One- Peaches and Petals

The air in this specific bathroom smelled far too strongly of champagne for his liking.

As he washes his hands, he wonders if someone drank too much in here earlier in the night.

Somehow it was always people of high status that would get the most drunk at parties.

He sighs and runs his fingers through his black and purple hair.

Oh well.

He can't keep his guests waiting for too long.

He pulls on his tie, making sure that it's not too loose.

After all, if he's going to be giving his guests the night of their lives, he might as well dress the part.

Not that his current attire of a last-minute suit and tie was anywhere near comfortable, but he must give his all to his job.

He takes a deep breath and exits the men's room.

If he remembers correctly, the banquet hall is to the right.

With one final deep breath for good luck, he pushes the doors open and is immediately hit with the sharp smells of the party.

Elegantly played music fills the room, the sound mixing with the idle chatter of guests and the clinking of silverware and utensils.

What a nice atmosphere.

He suddenly feels a hand grab his shoulder.

Still, he steels himself and doesn't flinch.

He calmly turns to look at who had tried to get his attention in such a way.

"You're the new guy. Niala, right?" A blond-haired man dressed in the same attire as him asks.

He flashes him a grin.

"That's correct. You must be Jonathan, correct? We haven't met."

The blond man nods.

"That's right. Liam was the one who trained you. I remember that. Well then, I expect hard work tonight. The Alder Family won't like slackers or bad service."

"Yes sir! So then, what should I do?"

"You'll be helping bring plates to the respective tables. When you're handed a tray, you'll be told which table to bring it to. They're lined in order by rows. It's as easy as we could make it." Jonathan explains.

Jonathan led him over to a door to the back rooms of the banquet hall, where the top chefs in Brightingdale were preparing food for the guests.

He's handed a tray with various plates on it.

"Bring that to table four. Do not drop anything, and do not waste time in doing so." Jonathan instructs.

After a few runs, he seems to get a hang of the rhythm of this job.

It's not as hard as he'd thought it would be.

Well, it's not hard as long as the guests ignore him.

But that doesn't matter. Not as much as everything else, that is.

"Nine in the evening. Only four more hours until we're done." Jonathan explains, wiping sweat off his forehead.

"How do you have any energy to do this again?" He asks, breathing heavily from what was probably a solid hour of walking back and forth across a banquet hall.

"The payment we get is enough to help us ignore the exhaustion." Jonathan laughs.

He can't help but find a smile creeping onto his own face at this.