From Frost to Flame

Part 28-Starstruck

As Pete made his way back to the VVIP area, he moved at a snail's pace, as if each step could delay the inevitable. The heavy feeling of awkwardness weighed on him, making his palms sweat.

Just as he reached the doorway, Porsche's voice boomed, unnecessarily loud, "Ayee, Pete! Come here!"

Pete flinched, wishing he could dissolve into the floor. Reluctantly, he dragged himself to the table, his eyes darting everywhere except at Vegas. Sliding into the chair, his shoulder accidentally brushed against Vegas's.

He jerked like he'd been electrocuted, mumbling a quiet apology, but Vegas didn't even look up. The man was calm as ever, engrossed in the menu and sipping his drink.

Pete stared at the tablecloth, debating whether he could just melt into it, when the sound of approaching footsteps filled the air. His stomach growled as the rich, mouthwatering aroma of food hit his senses. All thoughts of awkwardness evaporated instantly.

His eyes lit up like a child in a candy store. Plates of steaming, perfectly prepared dishes were placed on the table one by one, each more delectable than the last. Pete leaned in slightly, inhaling the delicious scent.

The earlier embarrassment? Forgotten.

Pete's stomach growled again, louder this time, and his gaze flicked to the food with longing. But out of courtesy, he sat still, hands on his lap, waiting patiently for everyone else to be served first. It was torture, pure and simple.

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he glanced at the others.
"Why do they have to take so long?"

The waiter moved at a leisurely pace, and Pete clenched his fists to stop himself from snatching the nearest dish. His eyes followed every plate, his hunger growing with each passing second. When would it be his turn? How much longer could he endure this agony?

Despite his best efforts, the corner of his lip twitched as he eyed the food.
His first love was here—Food.
And oh, how badly he wanted to devour it.

Pete's stomach did a happy flip as the waiter approached with the food.
The waiter initially moved to serve Vegas first, but before he could, Vegas subtly signaled him to serve Pete instead.

Oblivious to the silent gesture, glanced at Vegas as the food was placed on his plate. His face lit up like a Christmas tree, beaming with delight as the waiter piled food onto his plate.

A wide grin stretched across Pete's face, and he mumbled a sincere, "Thank you." Vegas, watching from the corner of his eye, felt his lips curve into a small, genuine smile at Pete's joy.

"Eat, bestie! What are you waiting for?" Porsche teased with a chuckle.

Pete didn't need to be told twice. Fork in hand, he eagerly dug in, his earlier awkwardness melting away with every bite. His love for food eclipsed all else, and for a brief moment, he was in culinary heaven.

As the group dug into their meal, the sound of approaching footsteps caught their attention.
A hand landed firmly on Vegas's shoulder, and he turned to glance at it. His eyes traveled upward, a smile tugging at his lips as he recognized the familiar presence.

"Hey... you came!" Vegas greeted warmly.

"Sorry for the delay," a familiar voice replied. "Hey, Kinn!"

Kinn looked up, a grin spreading across his face. "Type! Took you long enough!"

Vegas immediately stood to greet Type with a warm hug, and then Kinn clapped Type on the back before pulling him into a brief embrace, their easy camaraderie lighting up the atmosphere.

Just as the greetings settled, Another figure emerged from behind Type, his face lit up with a wide, infectious smile.

Kinn's eyes sparkled with recognition as he gestured toward the newcomer. "Well, well, look who decided to show up," he said, his tone playful.