“Right,” Ryan replied, propping his chin up on his palm and glaring out of the window.Blake bit back a grimace—Ryan was one of the most relaxed people that he knew, but once he grew irritated enough, his temper tended to get the better of him.
Appearing to have sensed Ryan’s growing ire, Marin swept in with a well-timed subject change.“This place is awesome, I like the 50’s aesthetic.”
“Right?The radioactive-looking Jell-O pies in the case really sell it,” Matt agreed with a nod.“Very Fallout-core.”
Marin gestured towards the small jukebox located on the other side of the booth, up against the glass where Matt’s dirty fingerprints still were.“Does that work?”
“It should,” Noel said, turning towards the machine and thumbing through several of the track lists.“Got anything you wanna listen to?”
Marin leaned over to view the contents.“You see anything that catches your interest?”
“Oooh play ‘Midnight Crew’!”Celeste gasped, stumbling through a few bars before Matt joined them in a sing-song tone.
“YES!A fellow Homestuck!”Celeste gasped, casting an arm around his shoulder and swaying them together.“Ohhh we are going to get along so well.I can tell.”
The two then burst into chorus, leaving the rest of the table to their menus.Blake stiffened, not wanting them to draw attention to their party.A quick glance around the diner proved that it was almost empty, free of other patrons save for another group of bar hoppers on the other side of the restaurant sharing a pancake platter.
“Man, that doesn’t look half-bad,” he remarked, turning towards Marin.He tapped a fingertip to the sticky page of his menu where the dish was listed.“Wanna split one of these?”
“No shit?I was just looking at that,” Marin grinned, dropping the side of the menu so that Blake could hold half of it.“What kind of pancakes did you want?”
“Gotta say I’m a pretty big fan of blueberry,” Blake told him.
“Blueberry it is, then,” Marin agreed with a decisive nod.
“You sure?”Blake asked.“We don’t need to do blueberry just because I want it.”
“Please stop flirting and just pick something,” Ryan groused, dropping his menu on the table and bracing his forehead against a palm.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the booth.Noel drew his mouth into a straight line, pointedly staring across the street.Matt raised his eyebrows and dug a massive scoop out of his mud pie.
“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?”Celeste asked, flopping back into their seat and sliding down the vinyl.“You’re bringing the whole vibe down—stop shitting on their good time!”
“It’s okay—” Marin began, holding up a supplicating hand.
“I’m not the one who’s a sloppy drunk in public!”Ryan snapped at Celeste, who scoffed.
“I’m not sloppy!You’re the one making a big deal out of nothing!”they retorted, their voice rocketing up to a shrill pitch.A waitress filling a coffee pot behind the counter shot a wary glance their way—Blake died a little inside.
“Guys,” he interjected.“Maybe don’t do this here?”
“No, please Celeste—pleasestart drama in public!”Ryan snapped.“It’s my favorite flavor of your bullshit.”
Marin closed the menu, tapping the table in discomfort.
Celeste scoffed, pressing an offended hand to their chest.“I’m starting drama?I’m not the one having a goddamn attitude with their friends!If you have a problem with me, don’t take it out on them!You always do this!You always have to ruin the vibe!”
“It’s not my fault you’re a drunk who can’t keep their shit together in public!Someone’sgotta reel you in!”
“At least I don’t turn into amoody little bitchwhen I’m drunk—”
“Um,” Matt interrupted.“The waitress is here.”
The feuding couple turned to the waitress towering over the side of the table, an empty tray tucked under one of her arms.
“Everything going to be okay over here?”she asked with a strict arch of her eyebrow.“We have a zero-tolerance policy for fighting and I really don’t want to have to call the cops.”
“No, no, we’re fine!”Celeste insisted, propping their chin up on their palm and beaming over at her, expression as sweet and artificial as aspartame.
