ADONIS
Hazuki Kei x Heroine
In a Cafe Alucard short
Hazuki Kei. Gorgeous, blonde, athletic.
I'm in the middle of my shift at Café Alucard and am gazing vapidly at the scene unfolding in front of me, dreamy sighs escaping every few minutes or so from my mouth.
Hazuki Kei. High-achieving model, aloof, out of my reach.
Did I mention he's currently having a shoot for a popular men's clothing magazine right smack in the centre of the café? Effortlessly he's changing poses as the photographer and stylist fight for his attention.
Hazuki Kei. Classmate, fellow Alucard employee, my childhood friend.
They stop for a break as Hazuki saunters over to the counter where I am drooling buckets of saliva to ask for a glass of water. I hurriedly hand him one after wiping some off my chin.
"Thank you."
A single phrase is exchanged before he gulps, I mean, daintily finishes his cup, and returns straight away to work and the makeup artist starts dabbing some of that concealer stuff around his lips. Meanwhile, I revert to my empty stare in his general direction, but not before the maitre d' starts yelling at me to go and serve some customers instead of loafing about, like what am I being paid for?
Time whizzes by and before I know it, it's the end of my shift. Hazuki has long finished his photoshoot and is having a lie down in the couch at the staff room in the back of the café. I tip-toe over to catch a glimpse of his sleeping face.
Ah, angelic beauty at its finest.
Despite all appearances, Hazuki's a nice guy. We've been together ever since kindergarten. He doesn't talk much, generally doesn't take notice of people, and can be pretty cold at times. But he's there when you need him, always ready to lend a helping hand and will never back down from a challenge. We've remained good friends all throughout high school. Once, you know, he fell asleep during one of the mid-term tests, and got a perfect zero in that subject as a result of it. That was the only one time I managed to score higher than him. Let's face it. I'm pretty plain, a klutz, and not the brightest tool in the shed. Hazuki, with his legions of adoring female fans and bevy of similarly-minded celebrity friends, has so many girls to choose from.
I sigh as I do an about-turn, striding out of the staff room and into the enveloping confines of the dark corridor ahead.
Unbeknownst to me, Hazuki, his eyes fixed on my back, stares intently at my diminishing silhouette. The minutest hint of a smile almost certainly creeps onto his face as he closes his eyes again, to dream once more of his heroine.
