บท 22: Escort
Yves had his arms crossed over his chest while seated in a wooden chair inside a restaurant. He released a sigh for the umpteenth time and questioned himself why he ended up sitting from across the young man he slid in a pot of doom a few days ago.
Glenn clicked his tongue in annoyance and looked around for a food server. "Just how long will it take them to serve my order? It's been thirty minutes already!"
"It's a busy hour, so you wait."
"Why did you even bring me here?"
"I didn't bring you here. You followed me here. Now, if you can't sit still until they served you your food..." Yves jerked his thumb to the transparent glass wall that showed the street outside. "Leave."
The glower that Glenn sent him could vaporize all the water in the Burnham Park Lake. Unfortunately for him, Yves had an armor thicker than the glaciers of Alaska, so it didn't have any effect on him. Glenn could only rest his chin on top of his palm and huff like an indignant child.
Honestly, he tried.
Heaven knew that Yves tried to shake the younger Alonzo off. He walked around Burnham Park in an attempt to mislead him, but like a gum stuck at the bottom of his shoe, Glenn kept trailing after him despite his outright denial.
In the end, they got tired of running and chasing, and decided to eat in Canto Bogchi Joint—a restaurant that gleamed like a frozen milk with its ivory ceiling, chairs, tables, window frames and wooden fences.
Yes, fences. It had fences inside. And the only thing that was keeping them sane was the veins and flowers decorating the said fence. Thank the fences. But Yves wished Glenn wound be seated on the other side of the fence so he didn't have to see his face.
"Good afternoon, Sirs. Here are your orders. Lomo ribs?" said a food server wearing a black attire.
"Finally. I thought I would have to wait until tomorrow—aw!"
Yves returned his foot to the floor, keeping a smile on his face despite Glenn's murderous glare. He turned to the waiter and nodded. "Thank you."
At the low growl of their stomach, they started digging in. The place was famous for its grilled barbeque pork ribs. Served with a cascade salad and mashed potato, it filled their hungry stomach.
Yves ate without talking to Glenn and treated him as just another customer who had to share a table with him because there were no available spots.
"So, what are you?" Glenn suddenly asked.
The middle of Yves' forehead creased at the vague question. If they were in still in school, he would tell Glenn he's an elf. To prevent himself from engaging in a conversation with him, he reached for the water goblet and took a generous sip.
"Are you... a male escort?"
Water congested the wrong pipe that had Yves coughing. Technically, he could call himself an escort at times—a Close Protection Escort, or a VIP Escort. In common terms, a bodyguard. However, he understood what Glenn was implying, so he glared.
Glenn only returned it with an expectant stare. "Well?"
"It depends on what kind of 'escort' you are referring to."
"An escort. Someone who gives people company in exchange for money."
Again, that wasn't exactly wrong because he's accompanying people in exchange for money, but in the context that his services were meant to provide protection and not something else.
"I'm not the kind of escort you're assuming that I am," Yves said simply because he's not going to waste time elaborating on the nature of his work to him. "What is it to you, anyway?"
"Just asking. Is it wrong to be curious?" Glenn evaded his question with a shrug, so Yves returned to his meal, but it seemed Richard's son had a deep well of curiosity. "Do you cater to everyone? Men and women? Young and old?"
The thread of his patience was close to snapping. Luckily for Glenn, Yves' phone rang before he flipped the table into his face. Checking the caller ID, his annoyance subsided and answered the call.
"Hi, Baby," Yves greeted, putting emphasis on the endearment that he rarely used on his boyfriend. He received a chuckle from the other line that prompted him to look away from Glenn's stare. "What?"
"Nothing. I'm assuming you're done with work?" Tim asked, his deep voice dancing with giddiness in Yves' ears.
"You sound excited."
"I am. Are you home, Baby?"
"No, I'm in a resto. I got hungry. But I'm going home after this."
"Which resto?"
Yves' gaze flickered to Glenn for a moment before he replied, "I'm at Canto."
"Okay, I'll see you there."
"Ah—"
The line was cut off before he could protest. Yves placed his phone on top of the table and resumed eating at a faster pace. He could finish his meal before Timothy arrived.
"Who's that? A client?" Glenn asked, the corner of his lips twitching into a lopsided smirk.
Instead of answering, Yves gobbled up the last of his food, drowned it with water, then shot up from his chair. When Glenn stood up as well, he pointed a warning finger at him. "Don't follow me anymore or I swear to god, I'm gonna slid you in a trash can."
Yves didn't wait for any kind of retort and left their table without a second glance. He made a quick trip to the washroom first before leaving the establishment. As soon as he stepped outside, however, he realized his phone was missing in his pocket.
"Shit!" Yves jogged back inside, but the table they previously occupied was already empty, so he approached the nearest food server he could find. "Excuse me, have you seen the guy who was here with me?"
The food server only shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sir. Maybe he already left. Why don't you give him a call?"
How could he even do that if his phone was missing? He didn't even know Glenn's number. He had no plans to get it either.
After thanking the waiter, Yves ran outside. He almost tripped on the steep stairs, but he managed to keep his balance and halted at the side of the street. Still, he couldn't find a trace of the guy who had been following him around all day.
"Where did he go?" Yves scratched his head, ruffling his light brown hair.
"Looking for someone?"
Yves swiveled to find Glenn walking down the stairs; white shoes, dark fitted jeans, and a grey and black stripe long-sleeved shirt. If this guy wasn't an annoying piece of work, he would appreciate his appearance that still resembled young Richard a lot.
"Where's my phone?" Yves asked.
Glenn shrugged and strolled away.
"Hey! Where are you going?"
"Didn't you say not to follow you anymore? I'm going back to our cabin. Bye."
"Give me back my phone first! Hey!" Yves outran Glenn and barricaded himself in front of him. With a pointed glare, he unfolded his palm up. "I know my phone is with you, so give it to me before I—"
"You what? Slid me in a trash can? Pin me on a tree? Why are you so violent?"
Yves gaped, then gave a hollow laugh. "Really? What is your problem? I thought you didn't want to be around someone like me because you're afraid to catch the gay virus? I don't want to say it, but you're acting suspicious all day."
"What are you implying? That I'm gay?"
"You're the one who said that." Yves smirked at the scowl that appeared on Glenn's face, so he took a step closer. "I mean, I've been there, so I know how it works. You must be having a hard time understanding yourself."
Glenn met his stare with a challenge of his own. "You must be a very conceited person if you're assuming I'm interested in you in that way."
"Then why would you follow a gay guy around if you aren't interested? Curious? Is that why you're asking if I'm an escort? Do you want to hire me for one night?"
"What if I said yes? Would you?"
Yves caught his voice in a strangled surprise, but he quickly recovered at the contemptuous smirk on Glenn's face. He glared. "Give me my phone. Now."
"I don't know what—"
Snatching the collar of Glenn's shirt, Yves pulled and forced Glenn to bend down, their faces an inch closer to each other. "Your brain must have been shaken up when I punched you square in the face. Let's do it again to straighten you up."
"You don't need to. Because I'm straight. I can be in your company and I will still feel nothing. I can prove that to you."
Yves felt a sudden surge of spontaneity to tease Glenn a little. He inched closer, as if he's about to kiss him. He had no plans to, but he was confident it would drive the other away.
But it didn't. Glenn's eyes only fluttered close.
"Baby?"
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K_Contiello
K_Contiello First, the father. Now, the son. Really, Yves? What's your secret? Care to share? LOL!
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I'm brain fried from writing multiple stories with different plot lines. Maybe I should just go back to corporate world. Hahaha *cries in digital ink*
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