The Billionaire And The Waitress (gxg)

53 - a guest

"OH, sorry, I was cleaning your room and I had to take a piss."

     A tall, slim boy stood in the doorframe of their bathroom, dressed in a white hotel maid uniform. He had a fine dusting of freckles on his face, hair that glinted ginger in the sunlight, and a sheepish expression. He couldn't be more than eighteen.

     Muse and Adrien both stared, Adrien's arm wrapped protectively around Muse. 

     "The door had a Do Not Disturb sign on it," Adrien said coldly.

     The boy's face blushed red beneath his freckles. His name tag read Theodore. "I'm sorry, man. I just got hired for the job. My uncle―Cai―um, he's the manager. I mean, he's not really my uncle. He's like my mom's brother's hairdresser's cousin's husband's nephew thrice removed. But, like, he told me I could work here. Because I dropped out of college for, um, tapestry-making. You know, everyone was like, 'You're gonna hate tapestry-making! What kind of job even is that? What are you gonna do with your life?' And I was gonna be, like, the next pro tapestry-maker. But then things kinda went sour." 

     He took a deep breath, his cheeks burning redder than his hair.

     "See, like, my ex-girlfriend cheated on me with my ex-boyfriend. And then I found out they were both enrolled in the same college as me. Not for tapestry-making, obviously. But, like, still. And they were holding hands shit on campus all the time. I was kind of losing it. And then I realized I fucking hate tapestry-making and I was like, Man, why did I even pick this as a career? Everyone was right. Fuck. So I dropped out and worked at Burger King for four months. Then my mom was like, Hey, this really rich and mysterious relative of ours has a job for you! Do you want to work on a secluded island in the middle of fuck-all nowhere? And I was like, Hell yeah."

     He took another breath, and without waiting for either of them to speak, continued, "So, I got here this morning and I was totally psyched. I mean, man, come on! It's a fucking island. It's built like a little glass fucking empire―is that the right word? Empire? Dynasty? I don't fucking know. Sorry. Fricking. I'm not supposed to curse in front of guests. Anyway, I got here and my uncle was like, Hey, you gotta go clean some rooms! And I didn't even get, like, a break. I was so jet-lagged, man."

     Muse's head was spinning. Adrien's arm still hadn't loosened from her shoulder. 

    "Anyways, Uncle Cai was like, Go to the west wing, Theodore! Clean all the rooms! I was like, All the rooms, man? He was like, All the rooms. He seemed kind of pissed, I don't know. I hate when people are mad at me. My mom told me I'm a people-pleaser. So I was like, Okay, dude, I'll clean all the rooms. So I went up that stupid spiraly staircase―who even fucking invented that, man? I mean, all those steps for what? You'd think 'cause this place is so fucking cool and modern and shit, they'd have a fucking elevator, but no. So, yeah, then I found these free water bottles and I stashed them in my trolley and I drank four of them. I was fucking thirsty. I should've known it was a bad idea. But then I really had to pee and there's no bathrooms, you know, on any of these floors. So I figured I'd just like pee, and I'd put the toilet seat back up, and no one would ever know, but then bam, you two walk in, and I'm over here like, Oh shit, please don't tell my boss or he's gonna fire me, man." 

     Adrien's eyes narrowed dangerously.

     But to Muse, the story―including the rambling―sounded a lot like that day at work she had met Adrien. It felt like so long ago, and yesterday, all at once. Bleeding into her white waitressing uniform. Having to use the public bathroom. Needing a tampon from the dispenser. She understood.