“Okay, don’t hate me, but they probably won’t let us in if they see you.” I soothed Josie back into the briefcase with a promise of sausage and real eggs.
The diner smelled delicious, and I was seated immediately at a two-person booth near an older couple both engrossed in reading books while their food went cold. A waitress came by seconds later, setting down a mug and filling it with black coffee. Her uniform was older, mottled stains dotting the apron, and she smelled faintly of maple syrup. I wondered if Betas who worked in the food industry ever got confused for Omegas. Working all day around these amazing smells had to leave you absolutely scent-drenched.
“There’s sugar and cream there,” she pointed at a glass pour container and a ceramic bowl filled with individual, mini creamers. “Do you know what you want?”
I hadn’t looked at the menu, and I knew even if I did, I’d be too overwhelmed to choose.
“Can you bring me whatever is really good? I’m not great at making decisions.”
“Sure, hon. Dick makes a great eggs benny, the fruit salad’s always awinner, and we got a couple slices of apple pie left. Regulars love a big chunk of cheddar on it.” She rattled off her recommendations.
“Sounds good.” Before she could turn away, I stopped her. “And sausage. Can I please have some sausage?”
“We’ve got chicken, pork, and turkey. What’s your poison, hon?” She arched a dyed eyebrow, mouth slightly open. Her red lipstick was flaking off a bit.
“Chicken, please. And I have a voucher to pay. Will that be okay?” I opened the briefcase just enough to access the inner pocket and pull out the sleek paper. I was glad it was glossy, harder to confuse with the papery money. Josie batted my hand playfully while I was doing it, probably to remind me of my sausage promise.
I presented the voucher and the waitress took it, flipping it over several times and nodding. “Yeah, this one’s legit. We got a lot of fakes. You can pay for the meal, but it won’t cover tip. Boss don’t like to pay us out when it’s a pre-paid meal.”
“Oh, okay. That’s fine.” My brain went over the remaining cash in my bag, and how much the bill might be. I’d always tipped a lot when money wasn’t a problem. I didn’t want to be rude and not give her enough at the end.
“Okay, hon. You keep this until it’s time to pay. I’m going to put that order in for ya. I’ll make sure that pie is on the house too.” She winked at me before leaving.
The food arrived quickly. The hollandaise on the eggs Benedict was slightly off color and the fruit salad was just halved grapes and strawberries several days past fresh, but I ate vigorously, enjoying every single mouthful. Every few bites, I’d break off a piece of sausage or a nibble of cheese and sneak it into the briefcase. I saved the pie for last—sans the cheese since most of that went to Josie—and sort of wish I’d asked for it a la mode.
The bill was twenty-three dollars and twelve cents. She’d comped the pie as promised. The gift voucher was fifty. I was going to have enough left over to come again someday. I could come back several times if I ordered less. I only left a four-dollar tip in cash. I was glad The Institutehad paid me in twenties. I’d broken a second one to pay at the pet store, which had left me with a five dollar bill and five ones, plus a few coins. I wasn’t sure why the tatted Beta hadn’t just given me a ten, but since he had, I didn’t have to ask the waitress to give me change back. Leaving less than she deserved was already embarrassing enough. She was worth twenty percent or more. But… I wasn’t that girl anymore. I had to think about myself first.
Belly full and sloshing, I didn’t rush back to the shelter. Josie, likewise, seemed content to just lazily march.
The minute I walked back into the joint room, Lily pounced.
“You were gone so long. I seriously thought they got you.” She hugged me, as if we’d known each other forever, rather than a day.
“Yes, the boogeyman got me. I have now gone poof.” I tease, pushing her gently off. I don’t love being hugged or having my personal space invaded without warning. Maybe that’s just a product of street life.I’m in this box. It’s mine now. Go the fuck away. This is my food, I found it. This is my body, don’t touch it. It’s hard to chill out your flight and fight response when it’s used to being on twenty-four seven.
“I know you say it’s not real, but you should still be careful. You shouldn’t go out alone anymore.” She looked so concerned, that I nodded.
“Fine, next time I go out, I’ll take you with me. A boogeyman can’t beat the buddy system, right?” I genuinely smiled at her.When was the last time someone worried about me? The last time someone cared enough to want me to come back home in one piece?
“Exactly. Buddy system.” She gave a quick, jerky nod and then threaded her arm through mine to pull me towards her bed. “Now, I need cat cuddles.”
The minute she said cat, the two boys rushed over. I let Josie free and watched the scene unfold.
I could get used to this.
Things could really be okay now.
17
RYDER
2 DAYS AGO...
What we were producing right now couldn’tbe called music, not by a long shot. The sheet music was right in front of us—well the working song that was still a hot fucking mess—but we couldn’t seem to get in sync. The band was completely out of step and out of tune, too far gone for even a click track to align us. Not that a damn audio reference would be enough anyway. We’d also need high level auto tune to fix the fact that each word I sang hit sharp, if I even managed to expel the lyric without my voice cracking. This wasn’t a new problem either. Shit had been falling apart since the last tour ended.
Every piece of equipment was fine. Our environment was as luxe and relaxing as it had always been. We were the issue. We were fried, finished, finally the picture of washed-up rockers that couldn’t hack it anymore.
Oblivion Haze was facing the end. The—for lack of a better description—aching, blackened oblivion that followed fame. We’d burned hot for nearly a decade. All good things eventually ended.
