Page 2 of Back Room Host

I had sensed it somehow, but I hadn’t expected them to take such drastic measures. Did I not deserve a chance just because I worked as a male escort on the side?

Maybe I was just doomed to lead this life. Not that it weighed heavily on me; I knew my way around it too well. But I was far from living my dream. The working hours as a chef suited me, and they matched my side job—as Keller had so stiffly put it. Being a chef wasn’t my dream job. I had no idea what my dreamjob would be. The only dream I had was to make a timely exit from the gay escort business.

“Here,” the waiter said, placing a cup of hot chocolate in front of me. “It’s on the house. You look like you could use it.”

“Am I a child, or what?” I didn’t even know if my words sounded snappy or utterly desperate.

“You seem stressed. The black cloud around you is spreading through the café and scaring off the guests.”

I shook my head in irritation and looked past him. An older couple was just leaving through the door. “They’re definitely not leaving because of me.” I laughed at his assertion.

The guy tried to keep a straight face but failed as a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Nothing can be as bad as you’re making it seem to everyone here.”

“I’m not saying anything,” I protested.

“That doesn’t make things any better.”

I rolled my eyes. Despite my annoyance, I couldn’t help but laugh at his comment. “Okay, give it to me. Can I have an extra packet?” I asked, tearing open the packet of chocolate powder and pouring it into the hot milk.

“You seem to like it sweet.”

I squinted my eyes and examined the guy more closely. Tall. Slim. He wore his bleached hair short on the sides and longer on top. Resembled a model. “You are sweet,” I replied, winking at him. I didn’t know what I hoped to achieve with that, but certainly not that he would stare at me with a petrified expression and gulp hard. He turned around and headed to the bar, reaching over the counter for another packet of hot chocolate.

“Here,” he said curtly, handing it to me before disappearing behind the bar again.

“Thanks,” I muttered, wondering what I had done wrong as I emptied the second packet into my cup. For a while, I gazedat the hot chocolate, but couldn’t resist looking around for the waiter again. A few tables away, I spotted him serving coffee to a couple, while absent-mindedly stroking his face. He seemed distant, exhausted, and introspective. Not as relaxed as before.

When he glanced over at me and our eyes met, I put on a charming smile. He appeared like he would flinch in shock and shrink. Amused, I turned my attention back to my hot chocolate. It had been years since I last drank one. I must have still been a child back then. There was something loving about the fact that the guy wanted to cheer me up with it. And he somehow succeeded, because just the pleasant smell of chocolate brought back memories of my mother, who used to make me hot chocolate in the morning before school.

“Careful, Honey. It’s hot. Don’t burn your tongue.”

Before the beautiful memory turned gloomy, I shifted my attention out onto the street. At least I still had the side job. And with that, I could determine how much I wanted to earn.

I had earned an apprentice’s wage of 900 francs in the kitchen, and that was only because I was already twenty-three. But that was by no means enough to make ends meet. I had no choice but to earn something on the side. Besides, I earned much better as a callboy anyway, which probably made it even harder for me to quit.

Alright, let’s get to work then.

I reached for my phone and scrolled through the nearly fifty messages that had accumulated in the past few days. Today was Friday, and although I already had plans for the weekend, tonight was still free. The issue with the apprenticeship had completely consumed me over the past few days. I had tried to talk to the restaurant owner and would even have been willing to find a solution, but he had shut me out. And with the termination, I had no choice but to return to what I was good at.

Gay escort.

Among all the messages, I found one from Noé. He had written to me three days ago, and although something like this never happened to me, it had completely slipped my mind.

“Hey, Rock! There’s a rock night at Exil on Saturday after my birthday. I’m playing there with my new band. Maybe it’ll work out this time. I’d be happy if you came.”

It still hurt my heart that I had missed the album release of his new band. I would have loved to hear Noé sing.

“Hey, Stoney! Thanks! I’ll be there.”

“Everything alright?”The guy had a seventh sense for certain things.

“Just got fired.”

“Shit, no! Are you alright?”

“Yeah,”I typed, not knowing who I was lying to.“It’ll be okay.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

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