Page 4 of Back Room Host

For a moment, his expression froze, then his assessing gaze swept over me, his lower lip twitching. Seconds later, his eyes drifted past me as if something else had caught his attention, only to stand there absent-mindedly again.

Still, his gaze somehow made me nervous. The mixture of distance and unmistakable interest had a strange effect on me. None of my clients had ever looked at me with such interest and reservation at the same time.

Sure, I offered sex for payment, so the interest in why they were meeting me was predetermined. But the guy stirred something that warmed me, and I felt incredibly attracted to him.

“Wanna grab a drink?” he asked completely unexpectedly, looking at me as if the words had slipped out of him. “I mean, if you … if you have time. I …” Embarrassed, he bit his bottom lip and gave a wry smile.

Oh yeah, the guy was sweet. And with his dreamy demeanor, he definitely piqued my interest. I checked the time on my phone. I still had an hour.

“Why not?” I replied, grinning.

2

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Juri

We headed straight to the restaurant across the street, a small, manageable bar with only a few tables. Since they were all occupied, we sat on two bar stools at the counter.

I couldn’t help but smile when I saw us side by side in the mirror. Me, dressed all in black, with black hair and darkly made-up eyes, and him next to me, with platinum blond hair, shining like a firefly. He shrugged off his dark green parka and radiated even more in his light gray sweater next to me.

And then I saw it: the fancy clothes, great haircut, and expensive watch on his wrist. His polite smile completed the picture. The guy looked like a prince, privileged and from a good family. Probably a student who earned a little extra by waiting tables, although his parents financially supported him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have cared so much about just losing his job.

Next to him, I felt like a peasant. Not only because I let guys fuck me for money but also because even all my acting talent wasn’t enough to disguise the fact that I belonged to the dregs of society.

And yet I couldn’t deny it. The guy had an allure that I couldn’t resist. Maybe because he was so different from all the men I usually associated with. They were old and only interested in one thing. Based on this guy’s expression, I could sense he also wanted something from me, and it was obvious he was into guys. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was about something else other than sex.

“I’m Luca.” He removed the silver-gray scarf from around his neck and hung it on the jacket under the counter.

“Juri.” I put on my charming smile, which always worked for me. My years of experience as a callboy taught me that. I waved the bartender over and we ordered beers. When I placed the phone on the counter, I glanced at the time. “I don’t have much time, unfortunately. I have to work later today.”

“No problem,” he said, sighing. “At least you still have your job.”

“Yeah …” Internally, I shook my head.

“And what do you do?”

“I trained as a chef.” Apart from the fact that it ended prematurely, it wasn’t even a lie. But I certainly wouldn’t tell him I was a callboy, especially since I liked how he looked at me. Let him think I worked in the kitchen. “And you? Are you going to start job hunting again?”

“Looks like it. But I’m optimistic. I’m sure something will come up.”

The bartender brought our beers and left us alone again.

“To our jobs,” Luca said, lifting the glass almost ceremoniously.

I laughed. It felt good to sit here with him. Even though he didn’t know about my troubles, getting fired didn’t feel so bad anymore. Maybe I was deceiving myself and blinded by Luca’s charm, but he made it easier for me to put the gloomy afternoon behind me. I raised my glass to him and took a sip.

The bar was quite cozy, and the acoustics were pleasant. Music played in the background, and the conversations of the other guests were barely audible. Additionally, nearly half of the tables were occupied by students who sat with their headphones on, working on their laptops. This place was suitable for meeting with a client.

“Do you come here often?” I asked, turning my stool toward Luca.

He just sat there, absent-mindedly looking at me, as if he had zoned out again. After a few seconds, he shook his head and returned to the present. “Here? No. This is the first time. Never had a reason to come here before.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I …” Luca rubbed the back of his neck, appearing as though my simple question had caught him off guard. “It’s been a long time since I went out for drinks with someone.”

“You don’t go to cafes alone?”

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