Keion Hart was the type of guy you, personally, would never date.

With that pretty blonde hair of his and ridiculously gorgeous blue eyes (according to all the people that admired him), Keion was a heartthrob.

Every party you bartended at, Keion was there. Either drenching himself by jumping into a pool and childishly screaming "CANON BALL" like a 8 year old, or coming back for drinks until he couldn't walk to the bar anymore and end up slumped on the couch.

"God you're so beautiful."

Keion chuckle as he walked past you, his adorable dimples betraying that smirk that screamed "player" from a mile away. And whether "player" meant ice hockey athlete or a manwhore, you wouldn't know.

The party was just starting. The sun had already set an hour ago and the lights in his house were dimming. Once again, you were there standing at their bar, hired to make drinks for this rich guy in your college with what seems to be like a permanently empty house that's too big for one person. A part of you couldn't help but wonder where his parents were. And how long he'd been living alone like this.