Kimo's POV

"Welcome to Chicken Done Right, where our chicken is always scru- scru- scrumptious! May I take your order?" I chirped, plastering a wide smile on my face.

The woman in front of me was wearing gold earrings the size of my head. Her dainty fingers twirled the end of her long, midnight black hair as she tilted her head to the side, peering at my name tag. "Kimo. That's a pretty name."

"Thank you," I replied, flashing her a smile. The place was packed today and the customer standing behind her looked as if he was about to blow a fuse. "Would you like to try one of our combos?"

She placed her hands on the counter and leaned forward, causing me to take an involuntary step back. "I thought you would like to go out with me."

"That's nice of you, but I'm not looking for a relationship." A relationship from her. I was already in a relationship with an incredibly handsome, kind and supportive guy. My mouth threatened to curve up at the corners from just the thought of him, but I didn't think this woman would have appreciated me smiling as I rejected her.

"Wouldn't it be nice to eat something that isn't out of a take-out box?" she asked, batting her eyelashes again and flashing me an innocent smile like she didn't just throw me a passive aggressive insult.

First, rude! Second, food from take-out boxes was amazing! I'd take curly fries and some barbecue wings any day over lobster. Not that I can remember ever tasting lobster, but curly fries and wings really hit the spot. Third, I was in a very loving relationship.

"I have a boyfriend, and I'm very happy with him. May I take your order?"

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Inventing a boyfriend, whatever, I'm way too good for you anyway." With a flick of her ponytail, she spun around and marched out of the restaurant, her designer heels clicking against the tiles as she went. I released a soft sigh, counting it as a small victory that I didn't get anything thrown in my face this time.

My eyes momentarily drifted down to the movie script next to the cash register. I still had hope that one day I'd make it as an actor. This job was only temporary.

"Welcome to Chicken Done Right, where our chicken is always scru- scru- scrumptious! May I take your order?" I said with a smile, greeting my next customer.

The next few hours dragged on, but finally it was time for my break. I snatched up my script and made my way to the back of the restaurant, removing the mandatory, obnoxious yellow hat from my head and shoving it into my pocket.

Once I was settled on a rickety box of crates near the dumpster, I opened the script before I took a swing of water and cleared my throat.

"How could you sleep with my brother! Get out! Get out of my house you motherf-"

"Trouble in paradise?" Becky asked, poking her head around the door and interrupting my practice run.

Her auburn hair was in a low hanging ponytail, brushing against the hideous yellow uniform that we were forced to wear.

I giggled and rolled my eyes. "No, Becks. I don't have a brother, and Connor would never cheat on me." All thoughts of my boyfriend immediately brought a smile to my face.

Connor and I were best friends. We had known each other for seven years and had been dating for five of those years. Four years ago, we moved in together and had been living together ever since. He was my high school sweetheart, the love of my life and the only person for me.

"Earth to Kimo." Becky leaned against the fence, a few feet away from me and pulled out a cigarette. "That lovestruck look on your face makes me want to throw up." She fake gagged before she grinned and took a drag from her cancer on a stick.

"Don't be jealous." I stuck my tongue out at her.

"Real mature Ki," she retorted, unable to prevent the little smile that appeared on her face.

I giggled and waved my script. "I have an audition tomorrow. I'm running lines."

"Need any help?" she offered, extending a hand.

"Sure, after you get rid of your death stick," I said, and she rolled her eyes.

She was used to my disgust for cigarettes, and though I tried not to judge, my dislike for cigarettes still slipped out occasionally. However, we didn't let that get in the way of our friendship.

We'd been friends for about a year, having met on my very first day of the job. Although Becky was twenty-three, the same age as me, she was used to working at fast food restaurants, needing to work from the ripe age of sixteen to provide for her two sisters.

I, on the other hand, had been starting my very first job. This was only supposed to be a temporary solution to helping Connor pay the bills since I had yet to land an acting job, but a year later and I was still working at this second-rate fast food place.

I practiced on my own for the few minutes it took Becky to finish her cigarette, then she helped me with my lines.

The rest of my shift thankfully went by without further incident. Once the lunch crowd subsided, our boss sent us to scrub the toilets before the end of our shift, which actually wasn't terrible because Becky again helped me run lines.

"You working tomorrow, Ki?" Becky inquired, shoving her hat into her locker.

I freed my curly, shoulder length, black hair from the scrunchy it was in, allowing my hair to frame my oval shaped face. "Nope, it's my day off."

"Shucks. Guess I won't see you before the audition." She approached me and placed both of her hands on my shoulders, her emerald-coloured eyes piercing my dark brown ones as she stared up at me. "Knock 'em dead, Ki. At least one of us should make it out. You got this!" She squished me into a tight hug which I gratefully returned, despite the fact that she smelt like an ashtray.

"Thanks, Becks. If I make it, I guarantee I'll help you out."

She smiled at my comment, but I could tell she didn't believe it. This wasn't the first time she'd heard something like that from a man, granted, it might have been the first time from a man she wasn't sleeping with, but I meant every word.

"Is Connor picking you up? Or are you taking the bus?" she asked, clearly trying to change the subject, and she knew that I could never resist talking about Connor.

The smile on my face was as big as my dreams of becoming famous when I replied. "Connor is coming for me, he called during my break and told me to wait for him." I refocused on Becky who was now pouting. "You need a ride?"

"I want what you and Connor have, all I have to do is mention his name and you become a Christmas tree." There was a hint of jealousy in her voice, but she was wearing a warm smile.

"Don't give up hope, Becks. You'll find someone just as incredible as you. Should I have Connor set you up with one of the guys from the mechanic shop?" 

She released a dry laugh. "Who wants to date a twenty-three-year-old with two children?" Becky didn't talk much about her past, but I knew enough to know that she was all the support her sisters had. "I don't have time to date anyway."

"You'll find someone!" I pushed open the door, holding it for Becky to slip through. "Do you need a ride?" I asked again, scanning the car park. My face lit up when I spotted the silver beater car parked a few feet away.

"No, thank you. I'll take the bus," Becky answered, following the direction of my gaze. "Go enjoy your time with your man. I'll call you tomorrow."

We gave each other a quick hug before she headed to the bus stop, and I rushed to Connor's car.

"Ko'u aloha (my love)!" I greeted Connor, opening the creaky car door and sliding into the passenger seat. It was one of the few Hawaiian phrases I knew. My mother spoke hardly any Hawaiian, having moved here when she was a child, and my Hawaiian was about as good as a toddler's.

However, I had learned a number of romantic expressions to impress Connor when we were teenagers. Even now, he still loved when I said anything in Hawaiian, so my limited Hawaiian often slipped out only around him, and by now, he understood most of the expressions I used.

After I slammed the door shut, I immediately reached over to caress Connor's big, adorably pointed ears. His dark brown hair was slicked back, exposing them in all their glory.

Connor's plump, pink lips curved up into the most stunning smile I had ever seen, causing tiny wrinkles to form around his eyes. My hand slid down to cup his chiseled jawline as I stared into his warm, dark blue eyes, sparkling like light reflecting off of two beautiful sapphires.

"Hey, Curly Fry," he murmured, inching closer and brushing his pointy nose against mine before connecting our lips in a passionate kiss.

His tongue slid against mine, eliciting soft moans and sending fire coursing through my body. I pressed closer, drinking up every ounce of pleasure he was giving me. After seven years of knowing him, I still felt butterflies in my stomach every time our skin touched.

When we finally broke the kiss, we were both grinning. He pecked my lips and stroked my hair, his hand coming to rest on my nape, still holding a hand full of my hair. "How was your day?" he inquired, resting his head against the headrest, a radiant smile still lighting up his face.

"Why are you dressed so fancy?" I asked, ignoring his question when I noticed his lack of oil splattered, dark blue overalls. Normally, he'd be running late, so to save time, he wouldn't change out of his work clothes before coming to pick me up.

Today he was adorned in a close-fitting, sky-blue shirt which showed off his muscular build and blue jeans. That plus his award-winning smile and he was as hot as they came.

"I want to take you to dinner," he said, caressing my cheek.

My eyebrows knitted together as a frown formed on my lips. Connor didn't like going out much, and we'd eaten out two days prior. Not to mention the fact that we tried to stick to a strict budget.

"I felt like going out today," he said, biting his bottom lip, a clear sign that he was nervous as the faintest tinge of pink appeared on his cheeks.

I narrowed my eyes, but he dodged my gaze and pressed a kiss to my lips before starting the car. Deciding not to press it for now, I put on my seat belt.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, his hand slipped into mine. His ivory skin against my russet, reddish brown skin, always brought a smile to my face which only widened when he pressed a soft kiss to the back of my hand. 

A/N

Thank you for reading! ❤

What did you think of the chapter? What did you think of the characters? Do you think Kimo should continue pursuing his dream of becoming an actor?  

If you have any feedback or questions or spot any grammatical or spelling errors, please let me know!

I unfortunately couldn't find an image of an actor or model which fully captured the image I have of Kimo in my head, so I've decided not to have many photos in this book. 

If you are reading this story on any platform other than Wattpad, you are very likely to be at risk of a malware attack. If you wish to read this story in it's original safe form, please go to: https://truyen247.pro/tac-gia/Kibika 

If you liked the chapter, please vote and/ or leave comments!