The Auctioned Kiss

A Runway to Save

Finn’s stomach twisted as he listened to Mr. Thompson’s pitch. The idea of standing in front of a crowd, trying to pull off some kind of runway performance, sounded absurd. He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I can’t do that, Mr. Thompson. I’m a bartender, not a model. I don’t know the first thing about walking a runway,” he protested, hoping to make his point clear.

Thompson’s face softened, but the desperation in his eyes only deepened. “Look, I wouldn’t ask if I had any other choice, Finn. This could save the bar—save your job, save everything we’ve built here. I just need you to do this one thing.”

Finn’s chest tightened, but he couldn’t hide his discomfort. He had no business walking down some runway like a fashion model. That wasn’t him. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to make sense of the crazy request.

“I don’t know… I mean, that’s just not me. I don’t do well in front of crowds. I’m gonna look like an i***t up there.” The thought of hundreds of eyes on him, judging his every move, made him feel dizzy.

Thompson took a step closer, his voice dropping to a quieter, more serious tone. “Finn, please. You’re young, you’re good-looking, and you’ve got charm. You could take his place, do the walk for me. They wouldn’t know the difference, and I’d split the payment with you. It’s just one night. One night, Finn. That’s it. I need you to pull this off.”

The words buzzed in Finn’s ears. He didn’t want to let Thompson down, but the very thought of standing up there, under those bright lights, terrified him. He could already feel the panic rising in his chest. "I don’t know, man. What if I mess up? I don’t even know what to do with my hands when I walk, let alone how to… model or whatever this is."

Thompson sighed, his expression hardening a little, though there was still an earnestness in his voice. “Finn, think back to when you first walked in here looking for a job. You were nothing.

You didn’t have a steady gig, no way to pay rent, no directions. You were just... surviving. But I took a chance on you, didn’t I?”

Finn’s throat tightened, and he looked down at the floor, avoiding Thompson’s gaze. The weight of those words hit him harder than he expected. He remembered those days—how he'd walked in, desperate, with nothing but a small duffel bag of clothes and a head full of uncertainty. Thompson had given him a shot when no one else would. The bar had become his home, his sanctuary.

“I gave you a chance,” Thompson continued, his voice quieter now, more personal. “Now, I’m asking for one in return. Just one thing, Finn. It’s not about walking a damn runway. It’s about keeping this place alive. If this doesn’t work, we lose the bar. We lose everything. And you... you lose your job.”

Finn exhaled sharply, feeling the pressure mounting. This was bigger than just him. It was about survival. And Thompson had never once asked him for anything in return. He owed him this, didn’t he?

“I just... I don’t know, man,” Finn muttered, his eyes flitting to the door. “I get what you’re saying, I do. But you want me to stand in front of people—hundreds of people—and pretend like I’m some kind of... model? It’s not me, Thompson. I don’t know the first thing about any of this. I’m not built for it.”

Thompson took a deep breath, his face softening just a little. He placed a hand on Finn’s shoulder, his grip firm but not too hard. “I’m not asking you to be something you’re not. I’m just asking you to help me out. You’re not alone in this. I’ll be with you every step of the way. I’ll help you practice, show you what to do. And when it’s over, you’ll walk away knowing you did something that really mattered—not just for the bar, but for yourself.”

Finn felt his stomach churn. He wanted to help. He did. But the anxiety that spiraled in his gut was suffocating. He ran his hand through his hair again, his thoughts a jumbled mess.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” he murmured, more to himself than to Thompson. “I mean, I’ve never been good at... performing like that. I just... I just work in the background, you know? I pour drinks, chat with the regulars, keep things running smoothly. That’s my thing. That’s where I fit in.”

Thompson paused, then sighed, a quiet, almost sad look crossing his face. “I understand, Finn. But you’ve got something more in you than you realize. This... this could be the thing that makes a real difference. You can’t be stuck behind the bar forever. I’m not saying you need to change who you are. I’m just asking you to step up for once.”

Finn closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall for a moment. The silence between them stretched out, thick and uncomfortable. He could hear the sound of the bar in the distance—the clink of glass, the murmur of voices. It was a strange comfort, knowing that in this space, he wasn’t forced to be anything he wasn’t. But tonight, he would be forced to do something that scared the hell out of him.

“Alright,” Finn finally said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’ll do it.”

Thompson’s face lit up with a genuine smile, and he clapped Finn on the shoulder once more, more forcefully this time. “Thank you, Finn. You have no idea what this means to me.”

Finn nodded, though he still felt like a knot of anxiety was tightening in his chest. His mind raced with a thousand doubts—How was he going to pull this off? Was he really about to walk down a runway?

“You’re going to do great,” Thompson assured him, his voice full of unshakable confidence. “I’ll make sure of it. We’ll practice tomorrow, alright?”

Finn gave a tight, half-hearted smile, but inside, his stomach felt like it was tied in knots. “Yeah. Right. We’ll practice.”

As he turned to leave, he couldn’t help but replay the conversation in his head. He had just agreed to something that terrified him. He had just agreed to do something he didn’t think he could pull off. And yet, there was no turning back now.

His gut twisted again as he stepped out of the office and into the bar. The reality of what he’d just committed to hit him all at once. His life had been turned upside down before, but this? This was something he never saw coming.

He ran a hand through his hair again, trying to steady himself. He’d have to practice, maybe even fake it until he made it. But how could he possibly be prepared for the storm he was about to walk into?

For now, all he could do was take it one step at a time.