One-Shot Stories

The Deep Blue Sea

You turn a couple of times, checking yourself in the mirror. You wanted to make sure that you looked your best because it was not only another wonderful date night with your boyfriend of six months, Holt, but you were also going to a New Year's Eve party on the beach; specifically the swanky pier restaurant, Water's Edge.

You were going to be meeting Holt there, and you were excited about the night ahead. It was going to be great, you just knew it, and it was going to be the perfect way to ring in the new year.

After a bit more primping, you're finally ready to go, you send Holt a quick text saying that you were hopping into a cab and would be at the pier in about half an hour. It was a bit far away, but it felt worth it for a New Year's party.

A few minutes later as you ride along, you glance at your phone, wondering when he was going to get back in touch with you. The two of you had made plans for this a few weeks back, so it wasn't a surprise or anything. Still, sometimes he didn't respond to your messages at all, even when you ask him things. You tried to understand, as he was pretty busy at work most days, but it still bothered you.

You take a moment to shake off your preoccupation and focus on the revelers wandering through the streets instead.

Dozens of people with funny hats, bright clothes, and silly headbands and glasses littered the sidewalks, laughing and having a grand time. There was a huge minotaur who had a couple hats hanging off his horns carrying people, one under each arm and one on his back. They seemed like they were all having an absolute blast, and you smile.

Your smile slips as you glance at your phone again to still see no response. With a sigh, you look back outside as the taxi turns onto the waterfront. You fidget nervously, but try to shake it off.

The taxi stops in front of the pier, the driver letting you out with a cheerful wave. You return it and head down the pier toward the Water's Edge, looking at all the people still out in the twilight hour. Seems that everybody was in pretty high spirits, and you found yourself wondering why you weren't.

You enter the restaurant under the reservation you'd made well in advance, and decide to wait at the bar for the bf to appear. You get a simple soda and watch the small television set up behind the bar, the festivities in full swing in New York.

After a bit, you check your phone again, and bite your lip. Still nothing.

"Hey, you want to order something?"

The deep, smooth voice takes you by surprise, and you jump, glancing up to see the bartender leaning on the counter nearby.

He was a huge silver-grey shark-man, and the button-up uniform shirt and vest he was wearing barely seemed to fit over his thick, muscular body. He had a fin near the back of his head, and you noticed it was conspicuously tipped in black and had a large notch missing from the back edge. Turning your attention to his face, you could see some scarring across it that made him look a bit intimidating. The smile he was giving you, though, was more than welcoming.

You give him a shy smile in return before shaking your head.

"I'm... I'm meeting somebody here, so I'm waiting," you explain, and he scoffs.

"Whoever it is that's making you wait should be ashamed," he says bluntly. "You shouldn't ever have to wait on anything or anyone."

You blink and your cheeks burn as you glance away with an embarrassed grin. He leans in close and lowers his voice. It suddenly felt extremely intimate.

"Hey, my name's Titon, with an 'o'," he says, tapping his plastic nametag with one of his three thick fingers. "You need anything, you just ask for me, alright?"