Ashton works in the same hotel as you as a waiter. He always wears his uniform consisting of a white shirt and black trousers, tie and jacket.

Towards evening he received a call to room number 235, from a certain Steve. The sir had ordered a rich dinner.

Ashton knocked once on the door. “Come in.” said Steve, from inside the room.

Another knock. “Come in!” the customer invited again, his voice higher.

Another knock, again. “Oh, damn it, I said come in!” Steve muttered in frustration, opening the door to find the waiter with the tray in his hand.

“I-I'm sorry, these rooms are specifically made to be soundproofed, sir” Ashton apologized, coming in and placing the tray on the table, starting to pour the champagne into a glass.

When he finished setting up the little stall, he turned to the man and smiled. “Here sir, enjoy your meal” and started to walk toward the door. Steve stopped him.

“Wait...don't call me sir, call me Steve...we're friends now, you and I” he said, mischievously. Ashton chuckled nervously “Right, 'Steve', ahah..”

“And tell me... where is your girlfriend? Are you single..?” Steve asked, his voice lowing.

“Well, I-I'm only 16, sir- I mean, 'Steve'..” Ashton replied, feeling uncomfortable but trying to remain professional.

“So you're single, huh..?” Steve echoed. He placed a hand on Ashton's knee. “And why's that? Maybe you like men...like me..” he added suggestively. His hand moving dangerously up the waiter's thigh...

Ashton's professionalism gave up. He stood up and sprinted for the door. Steve tried to grab him but Ashton pushed him to the floor, sending him tumbling into his bathrobe.

He walked briskly out of the room, sweating slightly from the adrenaline. He headed to the hotel's private bar, where he knew you worked behind the counter...