Page 29 of Back Room Host

“Have you seenDrive?” he asked, his eyes lit up with enthusiasm.

“Of course!”

And before I knew it, we delved into a long conversation about movies. I had no idea if this still aligned with Luca’s desire for me to inspire him; we were just chatting about something we both equally enjoyed. When he started talking about camera angles and lighting, I was captivated by his passion—and by his sensual lips.

Gradually, Luca shed his inhibitions as he became more relaxed. He gestured freely, and his laughter seemed more genuine. I also felt increasingly comfortable in his presence.

We could converse with each other naturally, and through it, I learned that he lived in a shared flat and practiced martial arts at least four times a week. There I was, with my three gym sessions, which took me only thirty minutes.

At some point, we drifted into the topic of music and realized that the sound playing wasn’t to our liking at all, so I suggested changing bars.

“It’s just after midnight,” he said, pocketing his phone, which was now dead. “Is anything still open?”

“The Olé-Olé-Bar is always open,” I said, slipping into my coat and wrapping the scarf around me.

“Okay, let’s go.”

We walked along Langstrasse and below the underpass. With Luca by my side, I felt an indescribable sense of contentment. I had no idea how he had managed it, but over the past few hours, I was captivated by him. My full attention was on him, and I enjoyed the evening to the fullest. I couldn’t explain to myself what the guy had done to me, but it just felt right. Normally, on Tuesdays, it was rather difficult for me to unwind from my workweek, but as we walked side by side, making jokes and even bumping shoulders, I felt good.

Luca was interesting, and the more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to know about him. We had a similar sense ofhumor and laughed at the same things. When those moments hit me, I became so painfully aware of the situation, and I pushed down the emerging feeling of shame and focused on Luca again. He truly awakened a part of me that I thought was lost for years, and he did so while remaining so reserved and polite, as if he were afraid to ruin the connection we had between us.

When we reached the Olé-Olé-Bar, he even held the door open for me. Such gestures were not unfamiliar to me—many of my clients liked to play the gentleman. But with Luca, it was different. He wasn’t a 50-year-old banker with a wife and kids, whom I gave the opportunity to be someone else for a few hours. It was Luca, meeting me as an equal, and his face lit up with the most beautiful smile on his face I had ever seen.

Hard rock music greeted us, and for a Tuesday night, it was packed. However, everything changed in the bar all at once. In the vicinity of the entrance, at the very first standing table, I spotted Noé sitting with three guys. Their inebriation was evident, with Noé equally partaking in the revelry, having heavily indulged himself.

“Bro!” I said, gesturing to Luca to wait for a moment. “What are you doing here?”

Seeing Noé in this state almost broke my heart, but at the same time, I was glad to find him here. Even though he hadn’t responded to any of my messages, he was okay, and that was the most important thing. And could I blame him for the relapse when his mother had just died?

“Juri-Rock!” He extended his arms out and hugged me.

“Are you celebrating your birthday here?” I asked, hugging him back.

“What? It’s your birthday?” one of his companions asked.

“Well, yesterday was his birthday,” I said, pointing to one of the countless clocks hanging from the ceiling.

“Then I’ll buy another round!” the guy exclaimed. “Come on! Sit with us! I’m Pascal! These are Anton and Piet.”

I was torn. I didn’t want to leave Noé alone, but I also didn’t want to scare Luca off, who looked overwhelmed right now. “We’ll just toast quickly, okay?” I said to Luca, trying to show him with a smile that everything was okay. “He’s sort of like my brother,” I explained.

“O-okay.”

Shortly after, we all held a tequila shot in our hands and raised a toast to Noé’s birthday together.

“I’ll be right over there,” I said to Noé and pointed to the bar. Luca was already sitting on a stool, ordering two beers.

“It’s fine,” Noé said with a heavy tongue.

11

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Luca

“Your brother?” I asked, puzzled, as Juri sat down next to me.

“Not blood-related,” he sighed, rubbing his face. “We grew up in the same house.”

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