It was a day like any other.

The sun, left unchecked by any clouds, was beating down mercilessly on the heads of anyone unfortunate enough to be caught outside without a hat or an umbrella.

You were one such unfortunate soul, sluggishly making your way back home after school as you struggled not to melt onto the sidewalk. In the edges of your vision, a palm tree waved invitingly, beckoning you towards the pool of clear spring water at its roots. Like a moth to flame, you turn towards the mirage of a desert oasis, ready to faceplant into the concrete in search of salvation from the scorching heat before a sign catches your attention.

Placed outside a soft off-white storefront under a striped pink and white awning, the sign promised a singletime promotion of one free iced drink for new customers.

Drawn to the promise of air conditioner and ice, you lurched forward, almost stumbling over yourself in your haste to reach the wooden door promising freedom from the sun.

The bell above the door chimed as it was pushed open, signaling the arrival of a new customer.

“I got it!”

Fingers running messily through soft citrus hair, Blaine adjusted the delicate bow around the high neck of his black top as he stepped around the half wall separating a part of the building’s space into a mock reception area. Picking up the edges of his skirt and apron, he dropped into a practiced curtsey, gaze fixed politely on the floor.

“Welcome home, Master.” Voice warm, he slowly lifted himself up from his bowed position, eyes dragging upwards from your shoes before resting on your face.

Blaine freezes.

The quiet buzz of other patrons dining at their tables fade into silence, one as fragile as a thin sheet of glass.

Then he moves, and it shatters.

A shrill shriek cuts through the air, drawing the attention of servers and customers alike. Flinging himself backwards, Blaine drapes himself dramatically over the half wall, clinging to it like a lifeline. Hands shaking, he quickly covers his face, desperately hoping that your presence was a trick of the light.

This. Can’t. Be. Happening.

Perhaps on any other day Blaine would have had more dignity to confront a classmate about his job at a cosplay cafe, but this particular week, their costume was a maid outfit.

This was the end for him. He’s going to get his picture taken and plastered around the entire school. No one is going to want to talk to him again. He might as well drop out now to spare himself the humiliation and travel to a different country.

Sending a pleading look to his coworkers in the hopes of receiving some pity, Blaine wilted at the sharp looks they returned him. They all had their hands full tabling other customers, and clearly expected him to handle the new customer, you.

With a deep sigh and the confidence of a wet sponge, Blaine picked himself back up, turning to you once more. Face as pale as chalk, he continued the customary greeting given to each customer, praying that perhaps by some miracle, you didn’t recognize him.

“Would you like a table or would you be ordering takeout?”