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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?”

“Why would I?” He chuckled. “Do you?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged and grinned. “It hasn’t been an hour since we met at one.”

Luca laughed, warming my heart, and I was glad he had dropped the seriousness.

The guy was totally cute. Even though I knew nothing would ever come of it, I could still enjoy a slight change of pace.

And maybe my buddy Clé would finally give me a break if I told him I had met up with someone my age.

I took a sip and placed the glass back down when I noticed Luca scanning me with that intense gaze again. Since I wasn’t easily unsettled—given my clients constantly stared at me—I tilted my head and met his gaze. Perhaps that was his way of flirting.

When Luca realized what he was doing, he blinked his eyes as if he couldn’t believe he had been staring at me again. “Sorry.” He reached for his glass and took big gulps.

“What for?” I smiled.

“I didn’t mean to stare at you.”

The guy was a mystery to me and was becoming more interesting. How could he be so polite and yet so genuine? Was it all just a facade? No, you couldn’t fake something like that. Besides, over the years, I developed quite a good sense of people.

Our gazes locked, and we shared a silent connection. His storm-gray eyes captivated me too much to turn away from him. But then, a chasm opened up before me.

What does he see in me?

I shifted my head and caught a glimpse of Luca through the mirror behind the bar. It surprised me to see him following my gaze in the mirror.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “I owe you an explanation for all of this.”

I took another big sip and placed the glass back down. Here we go.

“From the moment you entered the cafe, you caught my attention.”

I raised my eyebrows, puzzled. He sounded as though he had already skipped past the flirting.

“You remind me of someone who …” Luca trailed off, and his gaze wandered off into nothingness.

What? Someone important to you?

I smiled to myself because the situation felt very familiar from my job as a callboy.

No problem, nothing will come of us anyway—unfortunately.

“Inspire me! Please be my muse.”

I hesitated, then my jaw dropped, and I stared at him dumbfounded. What is he talking about?

“I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying.”

Luca let out a desperate and frustrated sound, propped his elbows on the counter, and buried his face in his hands. “You see! This keeps happening to me! My thoughts are too jumbled for others to follow. That’s why I need a muse.”

I glanced at my beer. It was still half full. Should I drink faster?

“What exactly do you want from me?”

Luca straightened his shoulders. “I’m in my final year of film school and I have a complete block when it comes to my final project. If I had a muse …”

“Why me? You could ask anyone.”

“No.” Luca sighed, taking a sip of his beer. “It doesn’t work like that. You have this quality that I find attractive. Similar to my last muse. You’re cunning, cheeky, and a bit rude. I know it will work with you.”

Will?

Wait a minute …

Now that Luca was increasingly accessible, I became more guarded and built higher walls around myself. I played with my lip piercing and bit my thumbnail.

“Film,” I said thoughtfully.

“I didn’t say I wanted to film you. Although … seeing you here now …”

“No. Filming is not happening.”

“Does that mean you’re considering it?” he exclaimed excitedly. “That’s great!”

As much as I felt drawn to the guy, my inner guard was on high alert.

In the end, it always boils down to the same thing anyway.

And then he expects something from me that I can’t give him.

This can only lead to trouble.

A heaviness settled in my chest as my attraction toward Luca grew stronger.

Get a grip on yourself! My inner guard screamed, and I listened to him. Everything else made no sense. I had learned a long time ago to ignore such feelings. They were ridiculous and would only get in the way. Love was taboo in my life; how else could I do my job?

“I charge 180 francs per hour,” I said as if on autopilot.

As if I had hit him with a right hook, he frowned. “What? Are you serious?”

“My time is valuable.”

Stay strong!

“I just lost my job,” he confessed in a charming tone.

Get out of here! My inner voice screamed, prompting me to stand up and slip into my coat. “I have to go.” Otherwise, he might figure out what’s really going on here.

I finished my beer and put it back on the counter.

As I did, the glass slipped from my hand and tipped over.

It didn’t break, but the last remnants of beer spilled onto the polished wood.

Luca reached for a napkin at the same time.

When our fingers touched, a tingling sensation shot up my arm, and I jerked my hand back.

For a moment, our eyes met.

I was no longer calm as he looked at me with slight concern.

“Just stay a little longer,” he said.

Immediately, I pulled out my wallet, placed a five-franc coin on the counter, and wrapped my scarf around me. “I have to go to work,” I said curtly, leaving him sitting there.

“Wait!”

With brisk steps, I left the bar and hurried to the bus stop, where a bus was just arriving.

Kind of a shame, but it’s for the best .