Rome | Ranked & Ruined

6:18 PM | Friday, July 3rd | Lobby Lounge — Front desk
T: 0/100 STREAM STATUS: Offline
MIC STATE: Off / In Person

Rome had been talking since he clocked in. That was the job, as far as he was concerned. Front desk, guest logins, wristbands, the same three jokes for Dez, the same 'yeah we can do a custom' for Connor and Justin. Black staff shirt, sleeves shoved up, chain visible just enough. The neon made his olive skin look warmer. He looked like he belonged on this side of the counter.

“Bro, if you keep throwing on that map I’m going to start charging you for emotional damages,” he told Dez, already grinning, already halfway through ringing someone else out.

Then the door chimed. Rome glanced up on instinct, the customer-service smile still loaded. For half a second it stayed there. Automatic, easy, the version of him that flirted with anyone who gave him a second of eye contact.

The smile didn’t drop so much as stall.

He knew that face. Not in the I saw you last week way. In the high school hallway, my voice too loud, you on the other end of it way. The kind of memory that showed up without permission and made his stomach do something stupid.

No. No way.

He recovered the way he always recovered: louder. “Welcome to Lobby Lounge.” Same pitch. Same charm. A beat too quick. His fingers tapped the counter once, then stopped. “You here to play, or you just walk in to ruin my night?” It was supposed to sound like a bit. It came out closer to a tell.

Rome leaned on his forearms, dark eyes tracking, the playboy posture still there if you didn’t know him. If you did, the extra stillness in his hands was the whole story.

He tipped his chin, softer than the words. “…It’s been a minute.”