One Piece Fan Fiction ❯ Of Seminars and Men ❯ Mr. Lonely ( Prologue )

Prologue

 

A lone figure stood on the balcony of his hotel suite. The night air gently ruffling his blond hair. He had removed his suit jacket when he entered the room, hanging it on the back of chair. His tie was removed shortly after, along with his black dress shoes. Now all that remained were his slacks and an unbuttoned blue shirt. Smoke drifted up from the cigarette caught between his lips. Long fingers rubbed at his temples in a worthless attempt to be rid of the growing pain in his head. It had been a long day, filled with boring lectures and even worse ideas. How he hated these seminars. But, as the head chef, he could no sooner shirk this duty than deny his love of the kitchen.

 

At the age of 23, he was the youngest person to be named head chef at the restaurant. His culinary skills were nationally renowned. He had been asked to cater to royalty on several occasions. It was things like this that fueled his desire to be the best. He wished his mentor could see him now. Of course he'd probably kick him in the head and tell him to get back to work instead of being here, but still. The old man taught him everything he knew. He took him in from the streets and gave him hope. In a short amount of time, he went from nothing, to the most desired chef in the city. His youth and good looks helped considerably as well.

 

Ah, the ladies. How he did love them. Their grace and beauty, combined with their soft, smooth skin, would probably be his downfall. He would do almost anything for a pretty face. So many women had graced his bed that he lost count a long time ago. They would slip their hotel keys in his jacket pocket as he walked by, hoping to entice him to visit them later that day. Many times he found himself having to refuse some of the offers due to the limited amount of hours he had free. But tonight… Tonight was different. Tonight he refused them all.

 

What was the point? All they wanted was a good fuck. That should have been enough to stroke his ego to satisfaction, but even being considered a magnificent lover could only console you so far. His body might have been happy at one point, but lately he had been longing for something more. Just one night, he wanted to be the one being pleased. For once, he wanted to be the one to relinquish control and be completely dominated. He was tired of living up to the expectations of all the women he met. He was tired of being used. He no longer wanted to feel like a common whore. What he wanted was love.

 

Frustrated and angry with himself, he threw the spent cigarette in the flower pot on the rail and headed back into the room. He quickly redressed and headed to the bar located on the first floor of the luxurious hotel he was currently staying in. He didn't want to be alone right now.

 

 

His shift had just ended and he was grateful. Today had been stressful to say the least. Two attempted muggings, one misplaced piece of luggage, a very angry customer who was also very wrong, and the innocent little girl at the front desk was caught stealing people's credit card information. Being the head of security for an exclusive hotel definitely had its fair share of excitement. The only thought on his mind right now was to have a drink, or maybe four or five.

 

He stopped by his office and changed into a pair of faded jeans and a white t-shirt. His neatly combed green hair was quickly worked into a stylish mess. Squeaky dress shoes were traded for comfortable black boots, and three dangling gold earrings finished his look. Happy with the transformation, he headed to the hotel bar. Robin should be there tonight, so he knew he would get served the good stuff.

 

Upon entering the bar, the first thing he noticed was a slightly larger than normal female crowd had gathered. There must be some celebrity here tonight. Wonderful. Just what he needed. Damn women and their high pitched voices, swooning over any guy with a pretty face and a thick wallet. They could rot in hell for all he cared. He would just make his way to his normal spot at the end of the bar and hope that they all caught some sick disease and died. The only problem was that there was already someone in his spot. Well, that would have to change real quick. Who in the world did that stupid blond think she was sitting in his seat?

 

“Oi, you're in my spot Blondie.” His voice was gruff, uncaring if his pissy attitude was showing. He needed a drink, and be damned if some bitch was going to make him sit somewhere other than where he sat every night after work for the last five years. “Did you hear me? I said move it wench.”

 

The blond let out a snort of a laugh, and turned towards him. “Fuck off, Marimo. I ain't in the mood. Sit yourself somewhere else.”

 

The security guard's shocked black eyes met with an annoyed bright blue one. Silky golden hair covered half of the person's face, while the visible eye was accented by a curiously curled eyebrow. The shock came from the fact that this wasn't a woman at all. It was an extremely handsome, lean, young man. Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all. If nothing else, he could have some fun at this prick's expense.

 

“Well you see, we have a problem here. I really like that seat. It's the one I always sit at after a long day at work.” The guard's voice turned sultry. “I might be willing to share, but you'd have to ask real nice.”

 

It was the blonde's turn to look shocked. He took a moment to look over the man addressing him. Taller than himself by an inch or two, he thought. Broad muscular shoulders and chest were accented by the fitted cotton shirt. The jeans were probably the guy's favorite pair, considering how they seemed to mold to his body without the look of discomfort. Short, messy green hair and dark sultry eyes accented the tan skin and strong jaw line. The blond shook his head realizing he had just been checking the guy out.

 

“Just what makes you think I'd want to share with a moronic bastard such as yourself?”

 

The green-haired man smiled and offered his hand. “Zoro. And you?”

 

The blond looked at the hand skeptically. `What the hell. This night is shit anyway.' He took the hand firmly in his own. “Sanji. I like this seat, and you're not sittin' in my lap, so you might as well sit in the next one down.”