He glanced at the large neon sign above his head. ‘Fatone’s’ he read to himself, pulling the door and stepping inside. The scent of pastas and lasagnas and breads filled his nostrils. The host, a pretty girl in a black mini skirt, lead him over to a table in the back.
"You waiter will arrive shortly," she said, her southern accent drawling as she spoke. He glanced at her nametag, which read ‘Britney’.
‘What an original name,’ he thought sarcastically.
He tapped his fingers on the table, looking around the small restaurant. It looked like one of those family places, that when you came back the people there remembered you. He was so wrapped up in looking around that he didn’t see the waiter approach his table.
"Hi, what can I get you?"
The man jumped, startled by the him. Looking at him, he saw that the waiter had spiky blonde hair, a great smile, and the most unusual green eyes he had ever seen. He also noticed that his name was Lance, and he found nothing wrong with that name.
"Um, well, I haven’t really had time to look over the menu, I..."
Lance laughed. "I’ll come back in say... ten minutes?"
"Five," the man said, faster than he had intended to. Lance nodded. "All right, five minutes it is, Mr..."
"Name’s Josh," the man said, and Lance smiled.
"Okay then, see you in five minutes Mr. Josh."
Lance walked back into the kitchen area with two empty trays, putting them in the sink to be washed.
"Who’s the new guy?"
Lance turned and faced his friend. "I dunno. Said his name was Josh."
Joey peered out one of the circular windows of the two swinging doors that lead into the kitchen. "I’ve never seen him before."
"Obviously," Lance said, rolling his eyes. "So Lance, who’s the new guy?" Britney asked, coming in with more trays. Lance sighed and Joey laughed.
"You kids better not be messin’ around back here, I have a business to run," came a gentle, yet deep and serious voice. "Calm down Dad," Joey said, grinning, "we’re just trying to figure out who this new customer is." Britney looked out the window to get a glance of the man, but spotted someone else and turned back to face the other three in the room. "Justin’s here, I gotta go. See y’all later." She grabbed her coat off the rack and left.
Mr. Fatone sighed. "That girl is love struck, that’s what she is. Can you both fill in for her?" Lance and Joey nodded. "Good. I just hope none of you boys get love struck, then I’d really be in trouble," Mr. Fatone said, turning and heading back towards his office. Joey was going to say something to Lance, but when he looked over, all he saw was the swinging of the kitchen doors.
"So, you decided what you want yet?" Lance asked, holding his order pad and pen in his hand.
"Uhh, yeah, give me a plate of the lasagna."
Lance laughed. "What kind? We have millions of lasagnas here, Mr. Josh."
"My last name’s not Josh. It’s Chasez, my first name’s Josh."
Lance smiled, decided to tell Josh that he knew that the whole time, and said, "That still doesn’t answer my question."
"Oh. Can I just have the regular lasagna?" Josh asked, a little snappishly.
Lance nodded. "Sure, one regular lasagna. Anything to drink with that?"
"Coffee," Josh replied.
"What kind of coffee, we have-"
"Just...coffee." The tone of Josh’s voice told Lance that Josh was either having a bad day, or he just wasn’t a very polite person. "Okay, lasagna and coffee. Got it. That order will be right out."
Josh waited until Lance had left before putting his head in his hands. ‘God, I’m so fucked up. I can’t even be nice to people I don’t know. This is all Craig’s fault...’ Josh didn’t want to think of his ex-boyfriend and their messy break up, but he had been in love with Craig, he had given up everything to and for Craig. ‘And he ends up cheating on me with his goddamn shrink.’
Josh sighed and wished his food would hurry up so he could go home.
Joey watched Josh from the kitchen. "He looks stressed. He’s pulling that one pose, you know? The ‘I’m fucked’ pose."
Lance laughed, turning on the coffee machine. "Joey, there’s more than one ‘I’m fucked’ pose." Joey rolled his eyes. "Fine. He’s got his head in his hands. Maybe he has this really tragic story, and he just needs someone to open him up."
"Joey," Lance said, putting the lasagna on a plate and moving back over to the coffee machine to pour the coffee, "you need to stop trying to pry your way into other peoples lives."
"I don’t pry. And besides, I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about you. Maybe he’s gay."
Lance rolled his eyes and set the cup of coffee on the tray with the lasagna. "Yeah, and maybe the Backstreet Boys suck."
"Now -that’s- a debatable topic."
*
