A Creators Death

"I mean, I was the youngest to ever win the Kentucky Derby. Not that I talk about it. It's in the past. But it's funny how Gyro's never won anything like that, right? Not that winning matters... it's just interesting."

He'll catch you staring at the sunset and say, softly, "I used to stand to watch these. Now I just... sit. But I notice more this way. The little things. You're a little thing I'd notice anywhere." (He practiced this line in his head for three miles.)

You and Gyro are having a perfectly normal conversation.

Johnny wheels up, says nothing, just sighs heavily and stares at his own lap. When you ask if he's okay, he says, "Don't worry about me. I'm used to being left out. It's fine. I'll just... sit here. Alone. Like always." Gyro rolls his eyes so hard he pulls a muscle.

It's really doesn't work on Gyro has witnessed this exact performance 400 times and now just says, "Johnny, if you want a hug, just ask. Stop making it weird."

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨

Gyro zeppeli.

"I'm not like those other boring, rule-following executioners back in Naples. I'm worldly, I'm passionate, and I have feelings, Johnny. Don't you want to hear about the steel balls? No? Okay..."

If you laugh at someone else’s joke, he will immediately shut down. He’ll wait five minutes, then tell a joke that makes zero sense and stare at you with those sparkly eyes until you give him a pity chuckle.

If johnny butts in to say it isn't funny he’ll say, "It’s okay. It’s a very high-level European humor. Not everyone has the mental capacity to 'get' it."

He’ll check his reflection in his Steel Ball, adjust his hat, and say, "Oh, that? That was just basic Spin technique. I could teach you, but it takes a very specific type of 'soul' to master it. A soul like mine. And... maybe yours. We’re just built different than the rest of these racers, aren't we?"

Gyro is the kind of pick-me who would buy you a gift, tell you it’s a "secret Zeppeli heirloom," and then get mad if you don't wear it every single day. he wants your undivided admiration.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨

Diego Brando.

He’ll see you struggling with something minor, like starting a campfire or opening a tin of food. He won't ask if you need help he’ll just snatch it out of your hands, do it perfectly in three seconds, and then hand it back with a look of pure, smug pity.

"It’s pathetic watching you struggle. Here. In the time it took you to strike that flint, I’ve already scouted the perimeter and caught dinner. You really should stick closer to me... the other racers are far too incompetent to keep someone like you alive."

He loves to talk about how he "doesn't need anyone" but the second you stop looking at him, he starts acting out to get your eyes back on him.

He’ll purposefully sit twenty feet away from the campfire, brooding in the dark like a gargoyle. He's waiting for you to notice how cool.and dangerous he looks.

The Reaction: If you ignore him and keep talking to someone else, he’ll start doing something loud like sharpening his knife with unnecessary force or eating a raw lizard just so you’ll look over and say, "Diego, what are you doing?" Then he can reply with, "Nothing. I’m just used to relying on my own instincts. Unlike some people."

She mainly walked to take a peek at the bending machines they had there, both the coffee one and the one with snacks and cold drinks. Honestly, nothing she hadn’t seen before; the typical overpriced sandwiches and a few ‘healthy’ drinks clearly marked with dieting in mind, —nothing she was interested in, that’s for certain. After getting jumpscared at the pricing of the items, she concluded it was time to go back and face the imminent danger of -entering a room full of strangers-, —her social anxiety not making the task any easier. To her surprise, her dance-mates were welcoming and incredibly eager to have a new recruit. She tried playing the safe card and walking in without being noticed like she always did, but she didn’t have time to put on her knee brace before a cheerful girl in bubble gum pink sweats practically skipped towards her. They had a polite conversation, introduced themselves and chatted casually for a bit before the teacher came and everyone went to get prepared for the class to begin.

Sweating was a warranted, and so was the muscle relaxing spay and the knee bracing tape on her right leg, but nothing was going to stop her. After being quickly introduced to the whole class (unfortunately for her), the teacher gave the start to a new routine, sending everyone into focus mode. Mac aced every move, eyes locked on her reflection in the mirror; checking if her body performed as intended. Once the rehearsed choreography was perfect, the teacher pointed at random dancers to come to the middle and perform it as the rest watched while taking the waiting period as cooldown time.

Being the newbie, they purposefully left her for last, knowing she would be too nervous to come out front right away. It was honestly one of the biggest fears she had coming in: either she was first and being put on the spot from second one; or going last and determining the finishing taste of the whole routine for the class. Both of the scenarios were equally as bad and terrifying inside of her mind, and seeing every single one of her classmates go and her name never getting called, was only making her heart race faster. After a long wait, Mac’s name was called the last like she had anticipated, and as if that wasn’t enough, was equally as intentionally placed to pair with the best dancer in her class. His serious but confident expression might have sent chills down her spine if she wasn’t too focused on remembering the steps to fully notice him. He looked effortlessly professional; a dark compression shirt, loose khaki cargo pants and a pair of expensive looking sneakers. His movements were flawless; his toned muscles showing proudly under his tight upper clothing ready to dance without missing a beat, and his locked-in glare was equally as hypnotizing to look at.

The secret challenge her teacher had put her through was passed without her knowledge. After their turn dancing together, everyone was left shocked, jaws dropped on the floor. Mac took a deep breath as the music started playing, waiting for their starting cue to sound. By the time the beat marked the beginning of their dancing routine, she had already gone into a mental space for concentration; she was no longer nothing more than a mere puppet to the music. Her body flowed with the rhythm, hitting every step just right. Without knowing each other, not even having talked before, both of them ruled over the dancefloor like they were meant to be together. The man’s aura was powerful, but Mac’s matched it perfectly without fear. Both of them were planning on following the choreography to a T, but towards the second half, Mac wanted to show off and decided to add some moves of her own, hopeful on proving the teacher what she was worth. Catching on immediately, her partner followed her back, making their set truly theirs. They ended on 8, just as the beat stopped, each of them striking a pose that complimented the other’s, camouflaging heavy breathing and ignoring sweat dripping from their foreheads. The occasional hyping from their classmates during their routine became a full roar when they were done, officially letting them stop pretending seriousness and immediately going to both relieve and cheerfulness.

Not long after the teacher gave them all feedback, the 3 hour class was finished and she was deemed capable of staying in the high intensity group. After saying goodbye to everyone that congratulated her on her first day, Mac sat down tucked away in a corner to decompress, still not fully believing what she had just done minutes before. But without letting her some alone time after removing her knee brace and applying some numbing cream, the man she had danced with before came towards her as she was giving herself a massage.

“You surprised me earlier. No one has ever been such a great partner as you and it was only your first day. Well done.” He commented, placing a hand on his hip as he put all his body weight on the left foot, extending the other to the side.

“Thanks! It was a pleasure dancing with you too.” She replied back, still stroking her leg muscles down just like her physiotherapist back home had taught her to. “Glad you caught onto my intentions with adding moves. I would have looked like a complete idiot if you hadn’t followed me.” She let out a shy chuckle in slight embarrassment. The man agreed with a subtle nod and raising his eyebrows as he took a sip from his water bottle.

“Yeah, totally. Thankfully for you, I’m always down for some boldness.” He closed the lid with a pause. “My name is Diego, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Mac. Nice to meet you too.” She replied, fixing her sports bag on her shoulder.

“I see you have trouble with your leg. You should totally go check on the physicians that come with scholarship’s insurance.” And after giving that advice, he turned around and left as he had come. “See you tomorrow!”

“See you! And thank you!”

*****

Meanwhile, work kept hitting Jen square in the face. The new store looked impressive from the outside: big windows, constant foot traffic; the kind of place corporate loved to brag about but inside it was a nightmare wrapped in fluorescent lighting. Too many customers, not enough staff, and a schedule that looked like it had been made by someone who hated sleep.

Her coworkers were… fine. Overworked, underpaid, permanently tired. Some were nice in that quiet, mutual-suffering way. Others kept their heads down and did the bare minimum because survival demanded it. Jen didn’t blame them. She barely blamed herself.

Then there was Valentine.

Valentine was technically her boss on paper. In reality, he was the kind of supervisor who delegated responsibility but never blame, who vanished during rush hours and reappeared just in time to criticize numbers. He smiled too much. Talked too loudly. Pretended morale was a pizza-party problem. Jen had clocked him as unbearable within the first day, and after almost a month, he hasn’t done anything to change her perception of him.

Still, she ran the floor like she always did: fixed schedules, smoothed over conflicts, covered shifts when people called out sick or burned out. She stayed late, came in early. Learned everyone’s limits and quietly worked around them. The store was bleeding staff, but it wasn’t sinking. Not on her watch.

After coming back to the apartment from yet another exhausting shift, Jen stood in front of the bathroom mirror, eyes unblinking as she took in her appearance. Dark circles had begun to settle underneath her eyes, hair wet, curling stubbornly despite no product on it. Her appearance reflected the day's weight.

“I should really bomb that place...” She huffed as she wiped her face dry, a small sniff escaped as she crossed the hallway towards the living room.

Consequently the front door opened without a single previous tingling of keys as a warning. Silence filled the apartment until Jen heard the faint sound of thin plastic rubbing together and cursed whispers in a foreign language.

“Mac, please tell me that’s you.” Jen said, peeking her head around the corner, just enough to see a familiar figure unloading bags by the door. “Oh thank God, I was worried you were some guy.”

Mac’s eyebrow raised as Jen reached the entering hall, helping Mac set things down. “Wow, that’s how you greet me?” She sassed as Jen rolled her eyes playfully.

“I’m sorry for being cautious!” Mac hummed before nudging a bag towards her.

“I got us Chinese food for dinner from a restaurant I saw on my way to the dance academy earlier.” Mac added, nodding towards the mattress. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

Jen froze. Then visibly deflated, looking inside the bag that was comfortingly warm in her hands as she held it. “Oh,” she whispered, suddenly emotional “You’re actually an angel.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Mac scoffed at the compliment, defusing it. “I hope you like spring rolls, because I got a lot.”

For a brief moment, surrounded by takeout containers, aching bodies, and the low hum of the city outside, it almost felt like they had everything under control. They sat on the mattress using the moving boxes that had yet to be unpacked as temporary tables, the smell of sweet-and-sour sauce and fried rice filling the apartment. Mac was already on her third spring roll.

“So,” Mac broke the silence, dipping the fourth one in the sauce container before devouring it. “How was work?”

“How was work…?” Jen scoffed immediately, repeating the question in disgust as she shoved the food around her plate instead of eating it. “We should bomb that place.” Mac paused mid-chew, eyes flicking towards her. “Ain’t nothing good there besides HP and Dio…” Jen continued, voice dropping into a hiss as she stabbed a piece of broccoli like it had personally wronged her. Mac chewed slowly, deliberately, as if giving Jen space to unload.

It wasn’t news. Jen’s workplace had a reputation; fantastic café, five-star reviews, tourists raving online about the atmosphere and service. People loved it; corporate loved it even more. But that never stopped Jen from fantasizing about blowing the building and her boss, Valentine, straight to hell. She swallowed hard, exhaustion pressing behind her eyes.

“And the worst part?” Jen muttered. “If I don’t keep it together, everything falls apart.” Mac didn’t respond right away. She just took another bite and listened. Jen poked at her food for a moment longer, then looked up suddenly, eyes lighting with dangerous sincerity. “We should blow it up.” Mac paused mid-bite. Again.

“You already said that.”

“I mean it this time.”

Mac stared at her, unimpressed. “Yeah, no. I don’t want to be labeled a terrorist just because your job sucks.” Jen let out an exaggerated sigh, tossing her head back against the mattress, setting her unfinished plate next to her on the floor.

“If they weren’t paying me seventeen an hour, I would’ve quit already.”

Mac choked.

She coughed violently, slapping a hand against her chest as rice nearly became her downfall. “—Seventeen?!” She wheezed.

Jen blinked, startled. “What?”

“You get paid seventeen an hour?” Mac demanded once she could breathe again, staring at her like she’d just confessed to armed robbery. Jen shrugged weakly.

“I mean… yeah? Manager pay.” Mac leaned back slowly, eyes narrowed.

“You hate that place with your entire soul.”

“Yes.”

“You come home looking like you fought God and lost.”

“Correct.”

“And they’re paying you seventeen an hour.”

Jen frowned. “…When you say it like that, it sounds worse.”

Mac laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “I’d blow up a little bit of my dignity for seventeen an hour.” She admitted bouncing her eyebrows high towards her forehead.

Jen snorted. “See? So you get it.”

“No,” Mac said, pointing a chopstick at her. “I get why you’re staying. I do not get why you want me to commit crimes with you.” Jen sighed again, dramatic as ever, slumping deeper in between the covers.

“Fine. We won’t blow it up.” She paused. “…Yet.” Mac threw a nasty, glaring side-eye over her shoulder to Jen, who gave her a smug look in response. “Oh, yeah!” She exclaimed, seeming to snap back to reality from her mischievous thoughts. “How was your first day at the academy?”

Mac looked up to the ceiling, tilting her head to the side as she shrugged. “Pretty good, actually.” She made a pause as she chewed, leaving Jen waiting for the continuation for a few seconds. “It wasn’t as far as I thought it was. The building is quite nice as well; it has changing rooms with showers and lockers, and a lounge area next to the vending machines.” She set the chopsticks down before turning to face Jen again, who had adjusted herself on the bed as well, now holding her head with her hand as she laid on her side. “I introduced myself to my classmates and then we practiced a song for the whole three-hour class.”

The way Mac had said that as if it was nothing scared the shit out of Jen. “THREE HOURS?!” Her friend just slowly nodded, not understanding what was the big deal about it. “With breaks, right?” Jen added with both curiosity and concern.

“I mean…” Mac cocked her eyes to the side, juggling her hands in thought. “Not exactly. We stop to drink when the teacher shows us new moves, but other than that, not really. Everything it’s very on-the-go.” Jen’s expression was out of a renaissance painting, but Mac kept on talking without paying any mind to it. “So yeah. After we learned it, we were selected to go perform it in pairs for the class, and I think I did pretty well. My dance partner was really, really, good as well.” She went back to eating without care. “His name was Diego. He seemed really nice. Gave me some advice as well.” Mac added in between bites and chewing.

Jen chuckled to herself. “Huh… Funnily enough, I also have a coworker that’s named Diego, but we call him “Dio” for short.” She crossed one of her arms behind her head, now turning to lay on her back to look up to the ceiling. “But he’s more of an arrogant bastard with a not-so-lowkey God complex and very controlling. So they seem like complete opposites.” Both of them laughed out loud after the statement.

After catching their breath from laughing so hard, Mac patted Jen on the leg.

“By the way, don’t worry about your job. You’re doing amazing, just don’t overwork yourself too much. I’m sure the next few days are going to go for the better.” The sincere comment took her off guard, but before she could even acknowledge it, Mac deflected the conversation as always when anything got emotional. “Well. Looks like we might have lunch for tomorrow with all these leftovers. Imma put them in the fridge.”

And just like that, she stood up, picked everything up, covered the ones with food with their lids and threw the empty ones in the trash. Jen laid there reflecting, visibly exhausted. Her eyes fixated on the textures of the ceiling while the low roarings of cars outside the window became soft hums mixed with María’s pacing around in between rooms as she cleaned up into the perfect background noise. The weeks’ worth of tiredness she had been ignoring finally caught up to her and took over her body. By the time Mac came back to the living room after brushing her teeth, Jen was already out cold on the mattress.

She snorted softly at the view before carefully pulling the covers from underneath her friend so as not to wake her up. She draped the sheets over Jen, tucking her in and laid to her side. Plugging her phone before going to sleep herself, Mac set an alarm to wake up early tomorrow, and then, she was finally able to lull herself to slumber to the city noises.

*****

When she woke up, Jen wasn’t there anymore, already gone for her opening shift it seemed. Mac groaned herself awake, rubbing her eyes with a big sigh before getting ready for her morning chores. On today’s list, she had mentally noted she was going to check on the hospital thing Diego had told her about the day before. So she opened her suitcase and took out the paperwork she had brought with herself from Spain. She didn’t really know what she would need, so she played it safe and took the whole folder with her in her backpack.

Setting her location on GoogleMaps, the closest medical center to her was 40 minutes walking from their apartment. Good thing she had all morning free. “That’s not so far… it’s about 12 songs long.” She thought, already walking in the direction it sent her in. Sure enough, Mac arrived there like it was nothing. The day was sunny and uncharacteristically warm for a winter morning, so she had a blast taking in the new areas she had walked by.

Mac found her way inside the building, walking past some planted gardens outside in the smoke-free area right by the entrance. Hospitals weren’t as different from the ones she was used to; same clean atmosphere and that sterile smell she had gotten accustomed to. After looking around, she located a desk deeper in the hallway with a single, seemingly busy nurse typing away at a keyboard. Mac walked timidly towards it, calling softly to the woman.

“Hi! I wanted to ask a question. I don’t know if you could help me with it?” The nurse looked up from the screen and tipped her head to the side.

“Yeah, sure. Tell me.”

“So…” Mac turned her backpack to the front, taking out the folder she had brought with her. “My name is María Manzanos and I came from Spain a few days ago. I’m here with a scholarship with ‘Studio 25’ dancing academy. I was in physical therapy back in Spain, and a classmate told me yesterday the academy had insurance for it.” Mac took some documents out and handed them to the nurse; some proving she was a student, the scholarship paperwork, her ID and what little medical information she had brought with her for the academy’s records. She pressed her forearms to the desk, leaning into them as she watched the lady flip through the documents she just handed her. “I don’t know if you have these resources available, and if so, what do I need to get them, or…”

The nurse looked thoroughly through the paperwork, her expression not showing well from behind her face mask. She glanced up at Mac after quietly studying the papers she had given her. Some of them were in Spanish, others she had already translated to English for the academy.

“Let me get someone, okay?” Mac just nodded as the woman left the desk to fetch for a coworker, waiting patiently for her to come back.

Not so long after, she appeared again with another man, already talking about the situation as they approached. He was about a head taller than the nurse he came with, wearing mint green scrubs and some crocs. He said ‘hello’ in acknowledgment and immediately checked the documents.

“This is Mr. Zeppeli.” The nurse informed Mac. “He’s one of the doctors at our Physical Therapy department.”

“Ah…” She simply whispered. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, María.” He finally responded after setting down the documents and handing them back to the nurse. “There’s really nothing we can do other than waiting, unfortunately. However, we’re going to scan these files to keep them registered in our system so you don’t need to leave the originals here.” He put his hands in his pockets and smiled under the face mask. “If there’s anything that needs to be sorted, we’ll take care of it. For now, just sign the paperwork my coworker is going to hand you so we have your details in order to get in contact with you if needed.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, if you excuse me, I’ll go back to checking in on patients.” He waved the two of you off and disappeared through a corridor. Before you set off for home again, you filled in the formulary and placed the ones you brought back inside your folder, eventually waving goodbye to the nurse again.

On her way home, Mac took the liberty of exploring around the area instead of goin g back the way she came from, —which probably could have ended with her getting mugged, but thankfully it didn’t happen. After an extra 20 minutes added to her stroll back to the apartment, she finally made her way into it. Coming back from outside hit Mac with how empty it actually was about ten times more than when she first came in. And that needed to change. So she stood, analyzed and planned like a construction worker, —or a crazy enough first born older daughter with an Animal Crossing and TheSims addiction.

Something about the laundry machine and the dryer both being in the kitchen area rubbed María the wrong way. Maybe it was her Spanish blood boiling, but her brain didn’t understand why someone would want their clean clothes smelling like food or vice versa. It was while furiously staring at them when she remembered the extra bedroom having a big closet. Without removing her thinking finger from her mouth, she power-walked to check its dimensions. Mac opened the sliding door, imagined, and then measured loosely with her arms.

“Yeah. They’ll fit.” She went back to the kitchen as fast as she left. Not out of rush, but for efficiency.

Now that the plan was set, the tricky part was about to start. How the fuck was she meant to move these two beasts of machines into that room? Well, easy answer: with persistence, a lot of strength and an even bigger stubbornness. Looking behind her, she saw the piles of empty cardboard boxes and went into work. Mac cut, sliced and placed the cardboard in front of the first candidate like it was a rug. Now with pure force, just needed to pull the metal cage on top of it and drag it to the room so as not to damage the floors and also making it easier to slide the weight. Easier said than done, but nothing impossible.

The rest of the day was spent like that. Aside from remodeling the place, she took a nap and ate some of the leftovers. It was only a couple of hours after she had woken up from her pick-me-up sleep that Jen came back dragging her feet after another exhausting day at work. At this point she couldn’t believe her eyes when she came in, fully thinking she was having hallucinations from how tired she was.

“What the fuck just happened…?” There was cardboard on the floor mimicking a doormat, slices tapped to the wall as picture placeholders, and in general, something felt off about the place. “Did you descend into madness while I was at work today or what? And why does it smell like cinnamon in here?” Jen asked, very much confused, as she placed her keys and the takeout bags on the kitchen counter.

“Oh! Hi!” Mac stood up from the mattress, sliding off her headphones to rest on her neck. “I have been renovating the place. Do you like it?”

“Well, is the ‘renovation’ in the room with us? Because if anything the place looks even emptier now that you have destroyed most of the cardboard boxes…” Jen paused on the spot before she threw her dirty apron to the floor. “… María, where is the laundry machine?” Jen turned around slowly, trying not to snap at her friend. Today was not the day for her to play tricks on her. But she didn’t catch on to the exhaustion, or if she did, she chose to ignore it.

“Glad you ask! Follow me.” Mac turned enthusiastic and made a cartoony gesture to indicate Jen to follow her lead. She took a deep sigh, bracing herself for what her friend could have prepared. Needless to say, she did not expect what she saw. Mac slid the closet doors open. “Tadaaa!”

Jen took a moment of silence before speaking; part for measuring her words and part to make sure she was alive and not in a fever dream. “Did you move the two machines here yourself…?”

“Yeah.” Mac nodded proudly, admiring her masterpiece. The confidence left Jen out of words. And for that reason it took her longer to notice.

“Wait. Wasn’t the closet all the way over here?!”

“Yeah…” Mac turned to the side like a dog caught in trouble while scratching her neck. “I maaay or may not have moved the machines without checking if there was current here first, so then I had to improvise…”

“Jesus Christ, Mac…”

“Listen. I ran downstairs to a corner shop, bought some tools and made sure to divide it into pieces before moving it, okay? I’m not a monster.” Jen mumbled another prayer under her breath while pinching her nose. “And I might have had to cut out part of the back paneling for it to be plugged, but…”

“YOU DID WHAT?!?” Jen snapped, switching to rubbing her forehead and temples now instead. “Oh, we’re so not going to get our deposit back…”

“Hey, but it looks cute, no…?” Mac placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder, seemingly calming her down even if just for a bit. The way Mac smiled made Jen reconsider burning down the whole place before jumping out of the window.

“Well… I guess it is aesthetically pleasing…” She gave it a less harsh look now. “How did you stack—?”

“Y’don’t wanna know.” Mac cut her with an innocent looking smile, but being pretty much guilty. Before Jen got to snap back again, she interrupted once more. “I have also done some brainstorming.” They now moved back to the living room and sat down on the mattress as Mac unlocked her iPad to show her friend. “Having in mind the space we have, I have designed some possible layouts for the apartment AND made a shopping list for each of them.” Once again, Jen was left speechless.

“Remind me not to let you have free time again.” Mac aped at the comment before adding.

“I also made a general utensil shopping list for the house. We need to do some grocery shopping too, unless you want to live off of takeout for the rest of your life…” Jen took the paper in her hands without checking what was written.

“This might be the only one of your lists we can afford, most probably. Can we at least have dinner now? It’s going to get cold and I’m already hungry enough.”

“Sure.” Mac stood up, leaving Jen to slough on the bed. “What did you get this time…?” She didn’t need to open up the bag to know what it was. Just by the look on her friend’s face, she could get a great guess. “Did you get tacos again? I swear, I’m going to clog the toilet tonight as revenge.”

“Not my fault your white ass stomach cannot handle spice.” Jen defended her dinner choice like it was the only correct one, —because to her it was.

“Well, not my fault you order them with cheese sauce on the side for the nachos and I happen to be lactose intolerant!” Mac sat down forcefully next to Jen on the mattress, making her bounce back on purpose.

“Well, you could just not eat it, y’know?!”

“But cheese tastes so good… I'd rather die.”

“At this point you will.” Jen raised her eyebrows the highest she could as she took her first bite.

“And I’ll do it happily…” Mac responded, also digging in on the food.

“Please don’t die on me.” Jen pleaded back with her mouth still munching.

“For cheese??? I will.” Mac joked. After that, both of them enjoyed the rest of dinner in silence; only the crunching and the night city noises as background.

“Tomorrow I’m free by 5pm. We can go shopping for groceries together at Walmart. I’m not letting your ass walk all the way there.” Jen gave her friend a side eye, knowing fully well she was going to talk back with some argument about her being able to anyway. But surprisingly, she didn’t.

“Okay. I’ll go pick you up at the cafeteria then.”

“Okay…” And they went back to eating, now with a plan for tomorrow.

*****

It was Hell, a place no person deserved to be in. The line wrapped around the counter. Of course, Jen was by herself once again. She could feel the aggravation build up more and more. How dare Valentine schedule her by herself? Especially when he knew that they would have an influx of customers since there was a festival near the area. She could strangle him right then and there if he dared to show his face to her. “‘I’m the most competent boss you’ll ever have’ my ass.” She hissed as the frother’s high pitched scream flooded out the noise of the crowd. Gently, she tapped the metal cup on the counter before moving her hands with ease.

It had been like this since nine in the morning; people flooding in, elbow to elbow. Her typical silent morning ruined by the disarray of customers. Latte’s, Cappuccinos, Hell; even americano’s were set on the counter like a small army of drinks. Each decorated by the names of each customer, but did that stop them from asking her if it was their drink? No. Unfortunately not. She was one stupid question away from tackling a customer and ringing them out. A familiar —at this point irritating— screech, from a red tailed hawk; who her boss claimed was a bald eagle’s cry, rang out. Yes, she was five seconds away from ripping off the door and chucking it to the street.

Mac walked through the door, looking over her shoulder very confused at the noise. “Hello, welcome to Red, White & Brew cafe. How can I help you?” Jen said in her customer service voice. She could mask her irritation well, making her eyes match her smile. At least until she saw Mac standing there, a grin plastered on her face. “Oh, hey.” Jen said, her whole demeanor changing. Mac let out a snort at the octave-drop in pitch in record time.

“So when did your shift end?” She chose to ignore what just happened. “I don’t think I want to be here for long…”

“My shift ends at five tonight. Hottie should be coming in soon.” Jen glanced down at the digital clock before snapping them back towards her roommate. “Hottie?” Mac questioned, not sure if she should question any further.

“Yeah, Hot Pants, I just call them by their nickname. Anyway, what can I get for you?” Mac looked up at the board behind her friend, blowing lip bubbles as her eyes searched.

“I don’t know…? Is there like a regular latte or something…” She frowned her eyebrows. “Those names are getting me too confused…”

“Oh, so… ‘The Valentine special’…" Once the words left Jen’s mouth she seemed to want to disappear. Mac grew concerned as her friend moved slower than before. Dragging her feet to the espresso machine. “I hate my life right now, I hope you know that…” Jen whispered just for her friend to hear, pouring the strawberry syrup into the rim of the cup, adding a pink swirl and pouring the almond milk into the cup. Two scoops of ice before finishing it up with the two shots of espresso.

Swirling the cup gently before grabbing a straw and reluctantly going back to the counter, pausing before her concerned friend. She gently hit a button near the register as a soft jiggle ran out. Jen placed her right hand on her chest, straightening her back. “I pledge allegiance to this cafe, that this latte was made from the blood, sweat and tears of this barista. I hope you enjoy and stay free.”

No words were exchanged after that bizarre situation took place, the otherwise silence that would have followed, was filled by the roaring of dozens of people walking in and chatting. Mac took the drink in comically slow while holding eye contact. “I swear to God. Only you Americans find a way to make everything patriotic…” She slipped the exact change over the counter. “Seventeen dollars an hour for manager pay isn’t enough.” Mac raised an eyebrow joined with a concerned smile.

“Um, actually I’m getting paid eighteen an hour and it’s just my boss. He’s a psycho…” Jen corrected, before leaning across the counter. “I told you we needed to burn this place down.”

”Yeah… Now I understand." She scanned the room before walking away. “I’ll sit nearby, and you tell me whenever you’re done.” Jen rolled her eyes before slipping the money back towards her.

“Oh sure, now you agree. Get outta here, I got your drink covered…”

“I already paid, you dumbass.” Mac pushed back the cash to her friend.

“Well, I’m pocketing this then.” Jen muttered, sending her friend away before going back to her perky attitude. “Hi, welcome to Red, White & Brew! How can I help you?”

She sat down at one of the low coffee tables with the puffy chairs. Since silence was not an option, Mac put her headphones in noise-canceling mode and zoned out doomscrolling as she waited. It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later that Mac saw Hot Pants walk in; a tall, slender, pink-haired woman who seemed ready to punch someone’s face in at any given moment. She disappeared behind the metal door as Jen followed after, a smile of joy gently on her face. A few minutes later, Jen briskly walked to her roommate, the tiredness suddenly washed away from her face. It seemed that her will to live had been revived. “Okay, I’m clocked out. We can get out of this Hell hole now.”

They walked side by side, with Jen leaning towards Mac instinctively. Humming softly as she wobbled her head side by side, she observed those around her. To the children, teens and finally adults; the adults who seemed to be madly in love with one another. A soft pang echoed through her heart as she thought back to her boyfriend. Had he answered her messages? Subconsciously, she reached for her phone, unlocking the screen to only find notifications from Mac and the many reels she had sent her. ‘Maybe he’s just busy… yeah, busy.’

Though before she could spiral more into her deeper thoughts, Mac interrupted. “Hey, so what are we doing now?” Jen straightened her posture before cracking a wide smile. “Well, I was thinking we could go grocery shopping, but not here…” Jen’s words seemed to lure Mac in, her attention still straight forward as the two stopped at a cross walk.

“I’m scared to ask where.” Jen gave a hearty chuckle at her friend's concern

“Oh please, it’s just Walmart!”

“I don’t trust you that much…” Mac muttered as Jen leaned into Mac’s personal space, gently shoving her shoulders to Mac’s.

“It’ll be fun, please. You can try stuff you’ve never tried before!!” Before Mac could form any disagreement, they were already in front of the Cougar. Its white paint shimmered in the setting sunlight, Jen rounded to the drivers side; slipping in as she unlocked the passengers side. “Get in, we’re going shopping!!” Mac gave a defeated sigh before slipping in, buckling her seat belt as Jen cranked up the radio. “We’ll be there in no time… Unless we hit traffic…”

Jen really had to learn how to shut her mouth, because the amount of times she had jinxed every scenario was astronomical. Hell, she was better getting struck by lightning than not getting jinxed. The radio was now lowered to a comfortable level, allowing both girls to listen in and out of the repetitive tones that played as they stood in a traffic jam. Jen was the one to break the silence. “Do they… wait, actually nevermind. I don’t wanna be stupid right now…” Jen replied to herself, squinting her eyes as Mac gave her a side glance. The sun visors were placed down, Mac’s eyes protected while Jen’s were hardly able to be covered.

“You can’t choose to be stupid. You already are.”

It was Jen’s turn to give a side glance to her friend. “How dare you…” Mac bursted out laughing as Jen grumbled in disarray. “I should leave you by customer service.” Luckily the traffic subsided as it was now their exit, allowing Mac to truly see the magnificent size of the Super-Walmart. The concrete building stood in all its glory with the neon lights guiding them further towards the parking lot.

Not even a moment passed as they got out of the car did Jen speak again. “So…” The pause was stuck between them as Mac turned to her friend, patiently waiting for her to continue. “So what do you think the logo looks like?” Mac gave a deadpanned expression to Jen as she turned towards Mac now, a smile painted on her face. Mac glanced back to the enormous building before looking back to Jen. She examined it quietly for a few seconds.

“It looks like a fire spark from a firework.” There was another pause as Jen looked between the logo and back to her friend. “Oh… It looked like a butthole to me…” Mac sighed tiredly.

“What’s with you and asses…?”

“I don’t really know. Wanna show me yours…?” Jen looked at her friend with a smug smile. But what she didn’t see coming was how Mac leaned over with the same look on her face.

“Right here in public? At least let’s go somewhere private.” There was a silence of tension where Jen didn’t know how to take those words, if as a joke or a threat. “Get your ass to the store now, please.” And Mac was back to her usual sassy self, turning and walking away. “Or do you want me to get lost in your sauce aisle?”

The automatic doors opened as they both stepped in, employees stood by the entrances, greeting them as they passed. The rattle of the wagon being the only source of sound besides the echoing chimes of their radio system. “Okay so let’s get our food products then household items!” Jen chirped, pushing the wagon to the left as Mac followed not too far behind. Her attention went to what was displayed, seeing the clothes to her right and the cashiers on the left.

Despite being a Wednesday night, it seemed to be more crowded than ever. “Is it always like this?” Matt commented, looking at the crowds of people who waited at self checkout and cashiers. Jen shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Yeah it’s usually like this on Wednesdays. You should see how it is on Fridays.”

“Jesus Christ…”

Mac continued to follow Jen as she weaved around the aisles with practiced ease, watching as Jen’s eyes scanned the products, and merchandise before stopping at the grocery side. There, a number of fruits and vegetables formed pyramids as displays.

Jen passed for a moment in front of the pyramid of oranges, but once she went to grab any, her eyes seemed to pick at each one before she moved on towards the organic side. “We may be on a budget, but I refuse to be frugal about our food quality.” Mac noted the long watch as Jen carefully inspected each variant of fruits before placing them into a plastic bag that she had prepared.

Simple fruits like apples, pears, strawberries, and even blueberries were placed inside the wagon before Jen turned her body a 180, motioning Mac to follow after her with the cart. Her strides were confident as she landmark towards her intended aisle, while pointing out which aisle was for each product.

“Weirdly enough the shampoo isn’t in the bath aisle anymore. It has its own section, but we should be fine. We have some at home for now.” Mac nearly ran into Jen as she paused for a moment and pointed at the section before continuing on her way towards the electronic aisle.

A man stood in the middle, clearly trying to sell something. Though before he can even make his pitch, Jen shook her head and continued on like a woman on a mission. “So, what do ya think of it?” Jen asked, pausing in front of the cleaning products. Glancing back at Mac, who seemed to be observant of everything around —and as characteristically quiet. The amount of people, to the amount of products that were on display, but most of all: the prices.

“Twelve eighty-five for forty-two duster wipes??” Mac questioned as she read out loud while leaning on the cart handle. Jen was more than used to these prices, Hell, these were on the cheaper end. “Well, for the named brand yeah, but we’re a store-brand household!” She pointed out, showing how much cheaper the store brands were compared to the name brand.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Brand name is still about 6-8€ in Spain.” Mac complained as she reluctantly turned the wagon for Jen to start loading. There were significant differences between Europe and America, from land mass to prices and transportation. But Mac hadn’t realized how much the prices differed. “Are you sure we can afford this Jen?” Mac asked softly, watching as her roommate continued to place cleaning items inside the wagon.

“Yeah I know we can afford this, after all I budgeted months for this; meaning that it’ll be a lot more than our normal cost of groceries would be.”

Mac shouldn’t have been as surprised as she had, considering the fact that Jen had always done the grocery shopping for her family prior to this. So she knew how to budget and apply coupons when necessary. Hell, Jen could even probably get the whole store's worth of products and only end up paying thirty bucks for everything.

“Okay let’s get to the chip aisle. You need to experience the American diet!!”

*****

After her rest days were over, Mac was back at the academy for her dancing classes. Since her first day had gone so well, the next time she went, her teacher gave her a timetable for the week for the usual classes’ schedule; also explaining to her it might deviate if they were to land a job for her. She took it, thanked her, and prepared herself for the day. For the first two weeks, it stayed like that. Nothing changed out of practicing choreographies for the occasional YouTube video or TikTok trend most of the time. Of course they also had serious jobs like being a stage dancer for a concert or a music video, but the people chosen for them were mostly professionals already and very rarely did they choose one of the students on the scholarship program.

Sometimes she did land tiny gigs: background appearances, minor dancer roles for artists that most people wouldn’t recognize, but they were enough to keep her going, enough to remind her she hadn’t crossed an ocean for nothing, —but also happened to be the minimum stated in her contract of sorts. Still, they weren’t stable. They didn’t pay reliably, if they even paid anything. And in the case they did, the academy took most of what she was supposed to earn. But at least, she was happy to bring a hundred or two dollars every week. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

For Jennifer, it was the same. Her whole week was mostly twelve hour shifts, opening to closing, and by the time she came back to the apartment, she only had enough energy to collapse on the mattress. The only days she had free were Sundays and all she did those days was sleeping, or at least trying to catch up to it. She was thankful she at least was in a flat with a competent person; if she were to be at her house, she would even have to do more housework on her free day, —even if another four men lived with her.

Eventually, February 28th came, and it found both Jen and Mac ‘panties down’ unprepared. They sat on the living room floor, not even on the mattress today; too much of a modesty for the situation they were going through. In front of them were receipts, —bills to be exact—, unpaid ones to be clearer.

“I have this much from my sidejobs as a dancer. And I can pitch in with my savings I brought as emergency money if we need—.” Jen stopped her friend.

“No need to. I can cover most of it with my salary. Just your dancing one is enough.” Mac stopped her from pocketing the documents.

“Yeah, no. That ain’t happening.” She pressed her hand on the paper, applying force so Jen couldn’t slide it further towards herself. “You already paid for the whole month of February because I didn’t have money aside for what I brought from Spain. This time I do. And I will at least pay for the rest of the bills.” Mac explained all this while serious, holding eye contact without blinking. “Even if I have to take out some from my savings.” Eventually, Jen caved under pressure. And it was because she couldn’t fight that logic, knowing full well she was not going to be able to afford everything by herself this time around.

“Fine. You pay for the electricity, water, trash and community fee, and I take the rest.”

“Add 20% of the rent to it and we have a deal.” Mac stretched her hand to the front for a shake. Jen looked at her, questioning, but after seeing the confidence in her friend’s eyes, she knew she couldn’t stop or change her mind. So she just sighed.

“We have a deal.”

*****

New month doesn’t always mean new opportunities, and it certainly didn’t mean it for this two. Seeing how her academy situation didn’t promise to get any better for now, Mac decided to start leaving CVs in the area in hopes luck struck her for once. She wasn’t going to accept Jen taking most of the expenses this time around, and her savings were already begging for mercy. Needless to say, after a few weeks of trying, and only getting rejections, she was losing all hope.

Everything at the cafeteria was going south too. The capable people quitted at the beginning of the month, and by week three, only Hot Pants, Diego and Jennifer were the ones standing. It also didn’t help that most of the personnel were young students in training and incapable of doing most stuff on their own, so even if the three of them were resourceful and quick on their feet, having to tend to the girls slowed them down more than helped.

“I can’t take this anymore.” Diego buried his head in between his arms, holding himself by the edge of the counter. “If the situation doesn’t change, I’m quitting too by the end of the month.”

“Listen, Dio. I don’t like you much, but if you dare quit, next time you see me it’s in the news with a gunshot to the head in the back room.” Jen warned with deep circles under her eyes.

“Or in prison after killing Valentine yourself.” Hot Pants added, leaning on the coffee maker equally as tired. Today it was just the three of them; none of the other girls were available, like they weren’t most of the days.

“Well, at least we didn’t have to babysit the newbies…” Diego murmured in disgust and relief as he adjusted his hair under the uniform cap.

“Yeah. It also doesn’t help that it’s Valentine’s fault they are that way.” Hot Pants pushed herself off of the counter and took out one of the biscuits to eat. “I heard him on the phone with someone saying he purposely hires them to keep them underpaid but filling in on employee quota or something like that. But since they are students, and most of them are immigrants, he pays them less than they should knowing they cannot complain.” They paused to take a bite out of the cookie. “And don’t worry. I’ll pay for this. I wasn’t able to have lunch today yet.”

What their coworker said had left both Jen and Diego speechless. “He what…?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh hell no.” Jen immediately took off her apron and walked, —flew—, to the back office. She knew that, even if he wasn’t present outside, her boss was inside of his office scratching his balls and complaining like always. So she feared not to pound on the door as loud as she could.

“Oh, he’s so done…” Diego whispered to Hot Pants after being able to hear the knocking from the front. Luckily, there were no customers now. Unaware what was to come, Valentine opened the door, with the same air of arrogance and superiority he always carried himself with.

“What’s the matter, Jen? Did you run out of milk? I swear I ordered it last week but it hasn’t arrived yet—“ He defended his ass with a lie, most probably, thinking she was there to reprimand the lack of supplies they have had for the duration of the month now.

“Are you hiring people illegally?!” Jennifer’s words slapped him on the face.

“What?”

“I heard you the other day on a phone call, so you better tell me the truth.” She purposely omitted the fact that she was just told that by Hot Pants to avoid them getting fired. “Because I’m telling you. If they keep on working here with those conditions, the three of us,” she moved a pointed finger towards where her two coworkers were outside.” are going to quit on the spot. You cannot have us covering endless shifts, without proper resting time, having a chaos of a timetable just because it brings you more benefits. Understood?” She straightened up her posture with a smile appropriate for someone working in customer service. “So I better see a message in the group chat today telling the girls they are getting paid what they’re owed, and fired with bonuses, if you don’t want your “favorite employees” to quit. Okay?” After that, she turned and left without giving him time to respond. But it was not like he had to. Things were said clear as day, and there was only one correct way of doing so.

When Jen came back out with a big smile on her face but a vein about to pop out of her forehead, they knew something was said and done. And it was definitely that and not the fact that they could hear her screaming from the register. As promised, surprisingly, later that afternoon they received a message on their phone with very polite wording, but also equally as Valentine-esque, as per Jen’s request. Needless to say, Hot Pants ended her shift with a weight lifted off of their shoulders, but also worried as fuck about tomorrow, leaving just Jen and Diego for closing for the day.

Tonight it was one of those dead, dragging night shifts that felt as if time was moving like syrup; nothing in comparison with how busy the afternoon shift had been like since Hot Pants’ turn ended. Thankfully, they were down to the last tasks for the night. While Diego finished up cleaning the front, now that they had closed the doors, Jen took out the trash. The air outside was cold and damp, the kind that clung to your hoodie. Jen pushed the back door open with her hip, two bags of trash in each hand, already thinking about going back inside and stealing a pastry from the heat tray.

Then she heard it. Not loud, not dramatic. Just small ‘mews’. She froze, nothing but the patter of the raindrops rang out. “...Hello?” She muttered, scanning the dark alley like a raccoon might answer back. Another sound: thin, ready, too small.

“Meow”

The four bags dropped from her grip as she whipped her head around, listening for another peep. “‘Meow’? Oh god, please don’t let it be injured…! Pss, pss!!” She whispered, already walking around, trying to locate the sound.

“Meow”

Behind an overturned milk crate, tucked against the brick wall, was a small pile of movement: fur, eyeshine and tiny wobbly heads. Kittens. Two of them to be exact; too small to be out there alone.

Jen crouched, heart already doing that soft thing it does when life presents something helpless. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me...” One of them hissed at her when she leaned closer to check on them, sounding like a squeaky toy with anxiety. The spiciest of the two was a calico kitten, almost fully white aside from some patches of color around her tiny face. The other one was a tabby, clearly the weakest of the two. He had his eyes glued shut with eye buggers and stayed meowing for help from behind his very protective sister. Without hesitation, Jen pulled out her phone.

Jen🥀, 10:25pm: Emergency

Mac🩵, 10:25pm: What happened??

Jen🥀, 10:25pm: I found kittens

Mac🩵, 10:25pm: …Okay but like medical emergency or emotional emergency??

Mac🩵, 10:26pm: OH

Jen🥀, 10:26pm: THEYRE BABIES MAC

Three dots popped up instantly.

Mac🩵, 10:26pm: Send pic

Mac🩵, 10:26pm: NOW!

Jen snapped the worst blurry photo known to man and sent it. A pause.

Mac🩵, 10:27pm: …

Mac🩵, 10:27pm: Oh no

Mac🩵, 10:27pm: Oh we’re fucked

Jen bit her lip, looking at them again. There was no mom cat in sight, otherwise Jen would have been mauled to death by then. No animal shelter was nearby that were opened at 10:30 at night. “They’re gonna die out here,” she muttered.

Mac🩵, 10:27pm: We can’t let them there…

Mac🩵, 10:28pm: But we do not have money for this

Jen🥀, 10:28pm: I know

Jen🥀, 10:28pm: But there’s no mom cat here…

Mac🩵, 10:28pm: We don't have money for US

Jen🥀10:28pm: I KNOW

Jen🥀, 10:28pm: But look at them :(

Another pause, Jen brought her finger closer to the two kittens, making the white one jump like a sprinkler. A text vibrated in her hand.

Mac🩵, 10:29pm: ...Bring them home

Jen let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding after reading it. “Okay.” She whispered, already taking off her apron. After some fighting from the white kitten, Jen managed to place both into the apron, making it look like a ball so as not to appear suspicious. Hurriedly, she went back inside, rushing past Diego. “I’M TAKING MY BREAK!” She screamed as he sighed.

“There’s no breaks if we’re closing.”

Inside the break room, she let them down into the table. The white one immediately started to swat at the air, hissing, while the other one stood still, now disoriented. She put the apron back on and lined the inside of it with napkins, making the saddest little makeshift kitten burrito station of all time. One by one, she scooped them up, their tiny rib cages breathing heavily in fear still. They were warm, so small that her hands felt giant. The calico one immediately tried crawling up her sleeve in escape. “Sir– no– ma’am, please?!?!”

After another hour, she was finally done closing. When she got home, Mac was waiting at the door like a tired single dad. Arms crossed and a long, exhausted sigh escaped her when she saw Jen open the door. “You better not have brought five.” She said, Jen smiled before presenting them, taking one of them out of each of her jacket pockets.

“Two, actually.” Mac’s expression melted instantly, stretching her hands to hold them.

“Oh, you stupid little things…”

They set them up in a cardboard box with a blanket Mac had prepared in anticipation. Before Jen had come, she Googled everything at once. Once together, they argued over whether evaporated milk counted as ‘close enough’, it did not. They ended up using a dropper and watered-down kitten formula from the twenty-four hour pet store Mac ran to in pajama pants. She also brewed one of her herbal teas to warm up and clean the tabby kitten’s eyes like she was so used to doing back home. Grabbing a cleaned cloth, she dumped it in the infusion and carefully rubbed off the junk on his tiny eyes. The kitten blinked softly, meowing at the new, brighter world before him. She took him in her lap and lowered herself next to Jen. At now 3:12 A.M., they sat on the kitchen floor, backs against the cabinets. A kitten asleep in Jen’s palm, another was climbing Mac’s leg like Everest. “We are financially irresponsible.” Mac said.

“Correct.” Jen agreed.

“We don’t even have a couch.”

“Also correct.”

A tiny mew filled the kitchen. They both looked down at Jen’s hand, watching how the previously feral calico troublemaker was now cuddling in between her fingers. Mac sighed “We’re keeping them until they’re bigger. That’s it.” She said, authority raging through her voice as Jen smiled softly.

“Yeah, just until they’re safe.” They both knew that was a lie. But it was a good one. After a few seconds of silence, Mac spoke again.

“Guess I’ll be doing the feedings since your sleeping schedule is already wack. These bastards have to eat every 3-4 hours until they can handle solids.” She commented, scratching softly the back of the head of the one that was trying to climb her shirt. Jen just nodded in agreement, looking down at the one in her arms. This time, after a few seconds of silence, Jen broke it.

“So,” she said casually, leaning back against the counter with the tiny white kitten nibbling at one of her fingers. “Are you still searching for a job?”

“Huh?” Mac blinked, like she’d been pulled out of a trance.

“Do you need a job?” Jen repeated herself, the same sly smile on her stupidly tired face.

“Well, I am still searching, yeah. I have been dropping my CV everywhere in the area but I have yet to be called from somewhere.” Mac responded without looking up from the kitten, so it wasn’t until she glanced up to question Jen about her sudden interest when she caught on to her playful expression. “Are you kidding me?” Mac muttered, letting out a soft laugh. But the look Jen had in her eyes told her she was far from joking. “Where, though…?”

“At my place. We’re short staffed.” Mac went from giving Jen a suspicious look, to actually questioning if it was plausible.

”I mean,” Mac continued, already spiraling. “I don’t even think I’d get hired. I don’t really have experience like that. The closest experience I have had working in retail was my weekend job as a bartender, but that’s not nearly as busy as your—” She stopped because Jen was smiling. Not a soft smile. Not a reassuring one.

A wicked one.

“Leave that to me,” Jen said lightly. “I’ll make this come true.” Mac frowned.

“Jen.”

“Mhm?”

“What do you mean by that?”

Jen puffed her chest out, suddenly energized in a way she hadn’t been all day. “I mean you’re responsible, you show up on time, you don’t suck at talking to people, and we’re severely understaffed.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“I’m a manager. Nepotism is my birthright.” Mac’s stomach dropped. Jen grabbed her phone. “Send me your résumé.”

“Jen.”

“Mac.” There was something dangerous about how happy she looked, and all the Spaniard could do was let out a big sigh in defeat while petting the kitten in her lap.

”Okay… I’ll send it to you.” She finally said as she took her phone out of her pocket. She was about to send the file to her friend when she turned with a pointed finger. “But if they don’t want to hire me, do not push them to. Alright?”

The next day, Jen clocked in with much more confidence than usual, walking her way into the employees only room in the back. Valentine was in his office, posture straight, aura of corporate patriotism radiating off of him. Jen didn’t knock, she just walked in with a clipboard in hand. “I need to hire someone.” She spoke, breaking the silence of his office, Valentine looked up.

“We aren’t currently hir—“

“Well, now we are,” Jen cut in, “because Diego tried to make espresso with cold brew yesterday.” Valentine inhaled sharply.

“That is concerning.” Without missing a beat Jen continued.

“She has food service experience, can handle customers, and actually shows up to work. Which puts her above the national average.” Valentine folded his hands.

“And this candidate is…?”

“Mac.”

A pause.

“…Is that short for something?”

“Yeah.” She threw the clipboard with María’s resumé attached to it over his deck. “Employment.”

Valentine blinked, and silently started to read over the file. “I see…” Jen didn’t break eye contact. The manager stare. The one that said ‘I already decided this’. “She starts tomorrow. I’ll train her, no extra labor cost because I’m handling onboarding.” Valentine nodded slowly, like this was his idea.

“Efficient. I value initiative.”

“I know you do.” Jen said flatly.

“Good. Close the door on your way out.” Jen turned and left without another word, the sound of the store rushing back in as she walked over to the front. Behind her, Valentine leaned back in his chair again, completely unaware that he’d just approved the best decision the store would ever make. And the worst one for himself.

Before she fully walked out to get back to the register, she took out her phone. “You start tomorrow.” Was all she sent to Mac in a quick message. Her friend replied immediately after.

“…You scare me.” Jen grinned at the screen.

*****

For the first time they have been living together, both of them woke up at the same time and were able to have breakfast calmly alongside the other without one of them having to rush out of the door. It felt amazing being able to have a chat as they prepared to head out to work together for the first time. Honestly, to Mac that was like a fever dream. Jen turned to her friend one last time before going into the store.

“I know you’re gonna do great. Don’t get too intimidated by my boss.”

”I think that should be the least of your worries, Jen.” Mac smiled to the side. “After everything you have told me about him, I think you should be more worried about the possibility of my launching at his throat.” Both of them laughed as Jen opened the door. By the time they arrived, their other two coworkers were already there —since Valentine had arranged all of them to be there for meeting the new hire. Hot Pants; who Mac had met, at least by sight, the day she went to wait for Jen a few weeks ago, was refilling the pastry station.

“Hi, Hot Pants. How has the day been so far?” Jen started a conversation as Mac walked quietly behind her.

“Ugh… don’t get me started. On God, one of the worst morning shifts I have had. Breakfast time was crazy…” It was as they finished the sentence, they finally acknowledged the other person in the room. “Are you the new hire?”

“Oh, yeah. Hi!” Mac waved a hand shyly. As she spoke, the other man, who was cleaning up the coffee machine with his back facing to them, turned.

“Mac…?” He seemed to stop dead on the spot, very confused at the sight of one of his dance partners being at his workplace. She was equally as taken aback, trying to make out who he was, until his voice registered.

“Diego…?” It took her a hot second to fully recognize him with such a different set of clothes. “Ain’t no way that’s you.”

“What are the odds, right?” The other two women stood there looking at each other, not understanding a thing of what was going on. That, and the way Diego appeared chirper than usual all of a sudden.

“Do you know each other? I thought Jen said you moved in a few months ago.” Hot Pants finally asked. Mac turned to answer but yet another foreign voice interrupted her.

“Oh, it seems like you’re already getting to know each other.” Valentine walked out of the staff only area after hearing talking outside. He introduced himself as fast as he could and immediately went back into his office with a conclusive clap. After a moment in silence to make sure he was actually gone, Mac questioned quietly but with clear disgust in her voice. One thing was what Jen told her, and another was actually seeing it in person.

“Is he always like this…?” She was practically burning holes into the door he walked into.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” Hot Pants leaned into the counter, following the same direction with their eyes. “You’ll get used to it. My name is Hot Pants, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, at least!”

After introductions were concluded, Jen accompanied Mac to the break room to give her her uniform and explain the basics before going outside and teaching her how to use part of the equipment. A quick round down was enough for the newbie to note everything down, so about ten minutes later, Mac was at the espresso machine trying to replicate what Jen had told her seconds before. Jen stood behind her, sleeves pushed up, fully in manager/barista instructor mode. “Okay, no, stop.” She gently grabbed the milk pitcher from her trainee. “You’re just heating up milk. We are not microwaving soup. There’s a science behind it.”

Mac blinked. “I thought we just… steam it.” Jen gives her a look, one of judgement. “That’s what amateurs say. We are professionals.” She dumped the milk and refilled the pitcher halfway. Mac looked at the milk go down the drain and froze.

“Well, that looks like a waste of materials but okay…” Jen gave her a side eye and ignored the comment before continuing the explanation.

“Rule one,” she said, tapping the metal, “cold milk. Always start with cold. The foam forms better because the proteins stretch before they die.”

Mac stares, a bit of bewilderment exposed on her face as Jen waits for her response. “The proteins… die?” Jen nodded, settling the metal pitcher close to the wand.

“Yes.” Jen said calmly. “We are cooking them, respectfully.” She purged the steam wand with a sharp hiss. “Now watch. This part matters.” Jen positioned the wand just under the surface. “You hear that?” The steamer erupted in a ‘Tsst-tsst-tsst’ rhythm. “That paper-tearing sound? That’s the air going in. That's the microfoam, if it sounds like a demon screaming, you’ve gone too deep. If it’s silent, you’re just heating milk and disappointing me—” It was when Jen to her side that she saw Mac trying so hard to not laugh at this point, —biggest stupidest grin in the world.

“Oh yeah? I’ve gone too deep?” Jen's eyes turned to disappointment after she heard back the words she used, but she was holding in her laughter as well. She had to keep her manager's image.

“Please, take this seriously.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Mac joked, bringing a hand to her forehead in a salute. Jen almost let out a snort, but she managed to keep on her explanation.

“Now we’re not adding air anymore. We’re rolling the milk, see the whirlpool? That’s breaking the big bubbles into tiny ones. We want a paint texture. Wet white paint, but bubble baths.” She tapped the pitcher on the counter, swirling it, choosing to ignore how yet again Mac snorted at her words. The milk looked glossy, smooth. Like melted ice cream. Jen handed it to Mac “Touch it.” Mac hesitates.

“It’s hot though—”

“JUST TOUCH THE SIDE, I’M NOT ASKING YOU TO PUT YOUR HAND IN!” Jen screamed, her patience running thin. Mac taped it quickly before fully pressing her hand to it.

“Oh. That’s like… warm-warm, not lava.”

“Exactly, if it burns your hand, you murdered it.” Jen pours it into the espresso, wrist moving confidently. A heart formed like she summoned it out of thin air. Mac’s jaw droped.

“Okay that was kinda hot…” Jen slid the cup aside like it’s nothing, sticking out her tongue as Mac compliments her latte art.

“Okay, now your turn!” Mac squinted at her.

“Wow, I did not know you liked coffee this much.” Jen doesn’t even look up as she wiped the wand.

“Oh, I’ve never drank coffee in my life.” Mac froze as she was about to pour.

“What?”

“I just like latte art!” Jen says cheerfully, discarding the used wipe into her apron pocket.

“...You learned all that.” Mac motioned with the espresso cup, towards the espresso machines and steamer. Jen nodded as Mac grew puzzled. “About milk proteins.” Mac retorts, feeling like she was missing a piece of a puzzle.

“Mm-hmm!” Jen hummed, leaning back against the counter as Mac looked at her.

“For something you don’t consume?”

Jen shrugged. “I like being better than people at things that they care about.” Mac stared at her, vividly seeing the devil horns on top of her head.

“That’s the most unhinged thing I’ve heard… And I love it.” Jen smiled sweetly before fixing Mac’s hold.

“Tilt the pitcher more, you’re pouring like you’re scared of it!”

“Yeah, and watch my ‘heart’ turn out like a penis…” Both of them laughed loudly before realizing the volume and growing quiet before they got caught. Needless to say, the training was carried out with pretty much about the same energy.

“Alright, I’m moving you to the cashier now so you get a handle of her POS system. It’s not that big of a deal. It seems overwhelming however, once you start fooling around with it and getting used to everything you will get the hang of things.” Mac glanced at the POS register, confusion marking her face as she tried to fool around with the system like Jen had told her too.

“Guess ‘POS’ also stands for ‘Piece Of Shit’, because what the hell is this system layout?” Her designer brain was getting overwhelmed by the unnecessarily complicated sea of buttons. Jen hid a cackle at the comparison.

For the most part, many of the categories were organized, most likely by Jen, however, some other things were unorganized like the frappe’s. Not to mention many of the things had weird names, but that was undoubtedly Valentine’s fault. Jen stood over her shoulder, watching carefully before slowly, guiding her to each category and showing her how to bring up certain items and how to take off discount items.

No more than five minutes had another customer come in, the irritating Redhawk screech rang out. Quickly Jen went back to her managerial mode. “Hi! Welcome to Red, White & Brew. How can we help you today?” The woman hadn’t even bothered to say any pleasantries back, simply glancing through the screen before looking back at Mac.

“Just a caramel macchiato, no caramel.”

Mac fingers hesitated for a moment before Jen gently motivated her to the right sections and buttons successfully ringing up the woman. “Okay. I’ll make a drink real quick and then I’ll explain it to you afterwards.” Mac nodded along, watching as Jen moved around with swift ease. After handing the customer her drink, instead of cleaning up her station right away like usual, Jen stood right by Mac. Confusing her before hearing a disgusted grown.

“This isn’t a macchiato. Who the hell made this? The new person?” The woman screeched, Jen blinked gently before nodding.

“No, I did. It’s exactly what you wanted: a caramel macchiato minus the caramel.”

Mac had never seen Jen so serious before, sure she had seen Jen outraged over losing Mario Party or Mario Kart because of her. But never so serious where it became apparent that she was a manager. Jen was always a chaotic soul; one who wasn’t afraid to be her true self or speak out even if she said something stupid… but seeing her as someone serious?

It made Mac look at her in a different light. There she was standing in front of the register, lecturing a customer on the proper order of a macchiato. Defending Mac like it was second nature, her usual enchanting smile, now long gone and replaced with her managerial grimace. “I will not tolerate any disrespect towards me or my employees, if you have an issue, you can run it up with our reviews online or you can wait patiently until the owner is here. But from past experience, you will have a better time making a review online rather than waiting here.”

The older customer gassed as if Jen had stabbed her multiple times. Mac had known people tend to be more dramatic during fast food environments, but she had never witnessed an American breakdown. “How dare you talk to me that way? I would like to speak with your manager.” Mac could see the anchor dissolve quickly within Jen. It was like a light had switched off on her. A soft smile painted on her face as she nodded to the customer before heading towards the back door.

Mac was oddly confused by this. There was no other manager on duty, not unless you counted Diego, but he was hiding in the fridge. Suddenly, Jen came back this time. Her demeanor has changed from one of grimace to cheerfulness. “Hello ma’am I’m the manager of this establishment. How can I help you today?” The woman was bewildered by Jen’s actions before huffing and storming away. Muttering under her breath before the familiar sound of a hawk filled the air.

And just as quickly as a woman left, Jen‘s attitude shifted to one of boredom. “Man, I was really hoping that she would stay longer. It would’ve been funny to see Valentine deal with her.” Jen turned to Mac as she grinned

“Valentine deals with customers?” Her question was answered with a howl from Jen, her arms clutching her stomach.

“Oh God no. That man hates entitled people. He would’ve chewed her up and banned her. He's only good at one thing and one thing only. And that is dealing with Karen’s”

Mac nodded realizing Jen wasn’t lying when she said that the boss was useless besides one thing. “Oh, really?? He seems like a ‘Karen’ too, but like the man version.” Gently against the counter and snickered even more

“Oh yeah, he definitely loves chewing us out if we do something wrong, especially if they're not to his ‘expectations’. But he knows better than to try and to test me.” Jen leaned off the counter and motioned Mac to follow towards the blenders.

“Okay I think it’s time now to show you how to make your hardest drinks. Now shut up and listen.”

Yeah, Mac started to regret her decision to take this job and position. It was one thing to have your friend as a manager, but it’s another one to have an incompetent boss. “Hey, you better be paying attention cause I’m not telling you again.”

*****

It had been approximately about a week since Mac joined the cafeteria’s staff, and it was already doing wonders for Jennifer’s health. For the first time in months, she looked like a human being again. Even though Mac technically was still a trainee until the end of the month, it was not like her and Diego wouldn’t be able to handle a regular day by themselves while Hot Pants had a few rest days.

For the upcoming rent, Mac had to still chip in with some of her savings since her salary wasn’t a full one yet due to her short time working. Nevertheless, they were able to afford another month, seemingly with more grace than the last one’s. Finally, it looked like April was going to be better for them all things considered: they were on time with payments, Jen had an actual sleeping schedule and didn’t survive on naps anymore and the kittens were growing up healthily into tiny bastards. Yes, they might have just enough money to survive, and they were sleeping in a twin size mattress on the floor still, but they chose to be optimistic for once.

Work didn’t feel like torture anymore since Mac had started there. The days the four of them were scheduled at the same time, it was absolute wonderland, —or Hell if you were Valentine. They were the perfect mix between productive and goofy.

The customer was already loud by the time Jen noticed. Diego stood at the register, jaw tight, hands braced flat against the counter as a woman waved her phone in his face, voice sharp enough to cut through the café noise.

“I’ve been waiting ten minutes!” She snapped. “This is unacceptable!” Diego inhaled through his nose.

“Ma’am, I’ve already explained—”

“And I don’t care what you explained.” Jen was there before he could say something that would get him written up.

“Hi,” She said gently, stepping in beside Diego like she’d always been there. Although she secretly wished she was a tad bit higher to hide her coworker’s murderous expression. “I’m so sorry about the wait.”

The woman turned to the new voice, ready to bite again, then paused. Jen smiled, —not fake, not corporate—, warm, steady; the kind that made people feel seen instead of managed. “I can see why you’re frustrated.” Jen continued, nodding slightly. “We’re running a bit behind today, but I promise we’ll fix this for you.”

The woman’s shoulders lowered a fraction. “Well… I just—”

“Of course,” Jen said smoothly. “How about I remake your drink personally? On us.”

A beat.

“…Fine.” The woman muttered. Jen nodded once, already moving.

“Thank you for your patience.”

By the time the drink was handed over; perfect foam, extra drizzle just how the woman wanted it, the customer was smiling, apologizing for her tone, and wishing Jen a good rest of her day. Diego watched the entire thing in silence. As the woman walked away, he scoffed quietly. “Must be nice.” Jen glanced at him.

“What?”

“You come in and suddenly everyone’s under your spell.” Jen blinked, genuinely confused.

“I just listened.”

“I did too. Not my fault these people are entitled.” Diego turned away, clearly irritated, shoulders stiff as he went back to work. It wasn’t until Mac’s comment lightened up his mood.

“Your face was scary too. In true British fashion.” Then Valentine appeared.

“Hey!” He said loudly, clapping his hands together like he was announcing a raffle. “Mac!” She nearly jumped.

“Yes?” Her words camouflaged a trembling with a change in tone, nervous system already kicking in fight-or-flight response in case she got told off on something.

Valentine smiled down at her, all teeth and false concern. “How’re you handling everything so far? Not too overwhelming?”

“Oh—uh,” Mac stuttered. “It’s been—” Behind him, Jen leaned toward Diego and exaggerated Valentine’s posture, puffing her chest out and silently mouthing ‘How’re you handling everything?’ with an overdone grin. Diego snorted despite himself, then caught on immediately, rolling his shoulders, mimicking Valentine’s hand gestures like a bad impression. Mac bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “—good.” She finished, nodding. “Yeah. Good.”

Valentine beamed. “Great! Love to hear it.” He turned suddenly. Jen and Diego snapped back to normal in record time: faces neutral, hands busy; the picture of professionalism. Valentine glanced between them, suspicious for half a second, then shrugged. “Keep up the good work.”

As he walked away, Diego exhaled sharply. Jen leaned over and murmured. “See? Team bonding.” Diego didn’t answer, but he didn’t glare this time either.

Valentine found Jen near the espresso machine an hour later. There was still a rush, cups lining the counter, steam hissing in the air but he clapped his hands anyway, loud enough to cut through the noise.

“Honestly,” he said, smiling like he was about to give a speech, “you’re kind of my prodigy, Jen.”

Jen slowly turned to look at him. Side-eyed him, actually. Her expression stayed neutral, but one eyebrow lifted just enough to say you’re pushing it.

“Well,” She said calmly, wiping down the counter. “I was trained by corporate, after all.” Valentine’s smile froze for half a second.

“Oh.” He said, nodding quickly. “Yeah. Right. Corporate.” Behind his back, Mac and Diego exchanged a glance. They didn’t say anything. They didn’t have to. Valentine puffed up a little, clearly pleased with himself for remembering something important. “Exactly. That’s why things have been running so smoothly today.” Jen bit her tongue to stop herself from speaking more than she should. “Alright,” Valentine continued, already turning toward the staff-only area. “You two—” He pointed lazily at Mac and Diego “—back to work. Jen and I need to make the schedules.”

Mac stiffened, Diego’s jaw tightened. Jen rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt, but she caught Mac’s gaze for just a moment, just long enough to silently say I’ll fix this later.

“Sure,” Jen said evenly, following Valentine toward the office.As the door closed behind them, Diego muttered under his breath.

“Unbelievable.” Mac watched the office door, expression thoughtful. She was starting to understand how this place really worked. And how easily Jen could move the pieces, whether she wanted to or not.

Valentine spun his chair toward the computer, cracking his knuckles like he was about to do something important.

“Alright,” he said, squinting at the screen. “Let’s see… We’re short, so I’m thinking Mac opens tomorrow, then stays through close. Diego can take the next shift, close to open. That should cover it.”

Jen didn’t even blink.

“No.”

Valentine paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “No?”

“We’re trying to keep employees,” Jen said flatly, stepping closer, “not get rid of them.”

She leaned over his shoulder, eyes scanning the schedule he’d half-built. “Mac works the times she requested. She has obligations at certain hours.” Valentine waved a hand dismissively.

“Everyone has obligations.”

“And Diego,” Jen continued, already deleting shifts, “is not doing back-to-back opens and closes. Last thing we need is for him to burn this place down.”

Valentine let out a short laugh. “That’s dramatic.”

Jen pushed his chair aside with her hip, not hard but firm enough that it made her point. She took the mouse from his hand and started fixing the schedule herself.

Click. Drag. Adjust.

Clean. Logical. Humane.

Valentine watched, mildly stunned, as the chaos he’d created turned into something functional in under a minute. She finished, then turned to him slowly.

“Have you talked to Hp about their availability this week,” she asked, voice calm but pointed, “or did you forget?”

Valentine blinked.

“Oh!” he said. “Uh—yeah. Yeah, I did.” Jen raised an eyebrow. “Let me check,” he added quickly, already turning back to the computer. She folded her arms, unimpressed, watching him fumble through emails he clearly hadn’t opened yet.

Behind the office door, the store kept running because it always did. Just not because of Valentine. Mac and Diego only meant to grab the schedule, or that’s what they would claim if caught snooping while they were supposed to finish with the closing chores. These two were powered and fueled with gossip. They hovered at the office doorway for a second, peeking in just enough to see what was going on and immediately paused. Jen was standing beside the desk, one hand braced on it; posture relaxed but grounded. Valentine sat in his chair, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly with the air of someone waiting for a miracle to happen.

“So if Hot Pants can’t do mornings,” Diego started cautiously, whispering to Mac at the corridor. “who’s covering—”

“Hot Pants said they’re free after three.” Jen replied instantly, without even looking up from the screen. It wasn’t to reply to Diego’s question; she had just taken into her own hands messaging her coworker since her boss apparently hadn’t done their job properly. “They have agreed to closing on Friday. That leaves Diego for mid-shift, and Mac does morning since she’s busy in the afternoon.”

“Wait—how does she—” Mac blinked, whispering back to Diego, now as shocked as him.

Valentine looked up from his phone, finally defeated. “I’m still waiting for Hot Pants to text back.” Jen stared at him. Then, without asking, she reached over, took his phone straight out of his hand, and hit call. Valentine sputtered. “Hey—!”

The phone rang once. Twice.

“Hot Pants,” Jen said the moment they answered. “It’s Jen. I’m making the schedule for next week. What’s your availability these days?” A pause from her, but a subtle chatter from the other end of the call. “Yeah. Okay. Got it.” She nodded, already adjusting the schedule. “Thanks.”

She hung up. Mac and Diego stared amazed through the tiny crack by the door. Jen set the phone down like nothing had happened, finished tweaking the last shift, then pulled out her own phone. She snapped a photo of the schedule and sent it to the group chat.

“There.” She said, “Everyone has it.”

Valentine opened his mouth, then closed it again. Jen turned to her superior as she walked to the door. “Now, if you excuse me, I’ll go back to doing inventory so we can close—“ Before they could react, she opened the door, discovering Mac and Diego snooping. Jen stopped in her step right in time to not crash into them. “Did you two do the closing chores yet or no?” Both of them stiffened.

“Nope,” Diego said immediately.

“We’re—uh—going,” Mac added.

They were gone before Jen even stepped out of the office. As the door swung shut behind her, Mac felt it settle in her chest, slow, undeniable. Jen wasn’t just good at her job. She ran circles around people who were supposed to be in charge. And somehow, without raising her voice or demanding attention, she’d already become the boss everyone listened to.

*****

April flew like the wind before their eyes. Everything had started to flow into a rhythm of controlled chaos in a good way. Jobs or money weren’t a problem anymore, at least. Since they got paid weekly, they had created a great budgeting system for groceries and other expenses that may arise, while also saving for the bill at the end of the month. Their biggest issue now were the furry troublemakers they had adopted back in February. The two kittens were about two months old now and very, very full of energy. Honestly, it didn’t matter that much to them. Both Mac and Jen rather have to work their way around kitten-proofing their whole apartment than scraping pennies to have something to eat, —as much as having bodies full of scratch marks was annoying.

Jen stood by the cooker, attempting to make dinner but being pretty much interrupted by the calico kitten she had claimed as hers taking climbing up her pyjama pants as a challenge. “No! This is not your food! You have already eaten!” She tried shaking her leg, reprimanded the desperate meowing of the allegedly hungry lady. The door unlocked and Mac walked into a scene out of a soap opera.

“The fuck is going on?” At the sound of her voice, the other kitten wobbled over to welcome her back into the living room after her shopping trip.

“She won’t let go of my leg!”

“Guess the name really suits her.” Mac joked as she approached Jen. “Lucy, as in Lucifer.” She let out a laugh, dropping the grocery bags on the counter and grabbing the tiny climber from the scruff.

“Mew!” The kitten roar like a lion, —at least to herself—, but as soon as Mac placed her down, she locked eyes with her brother and immediately proceeded to pounce on him, the other one whining at the nimbling.

“So what did you get?” Jen tried to peek inside the bags, but Mac had already started to take the items out without giving her any chance for mystery.

“So I got white wine~” She practically sang. “Which is going straight to the fridge because it’s better served cold. Some staffed olives and chips for snacks.” Mac took them out as she announced them. “And I also got us some face masks for a girl’s night before sleeping!”

“I already have face masks here. You didn’t have to—“ Mac pointed a finger to her friend’s lips, silencing her.

“Do your face masks have silly drawings? No? Then shut the fuck up!” Jen rolled her eyes. “Have some fun, we have to celebrate! I got called by the academy to tell me I got selected to be a back dancer for a concert in the area!” Mac twirled her way to the other side of the peninsula, now standing right opposite Jen. “Aren’t you excited?”

Truth was, Jen was excited for her friend, but something inside her had already prepared for a storm about to happen that she yet had to know existed. It was like her nervous system was going through it. These past days she had been exhausted despite the amount of hours she slept. So she couldn’t understand. At work it was fine, she hung out with her friends on the regular, had a great time with Mac at the apartment, the kittens were a cute distraction too… The only thing she could blame it on was how her conversations with her boyfriend were getting drier and drier. But he was busy with work, she had moved further away from him; he couldn’t come to visit her. He hadn’t even gone to her new place yet and it had been four months since the move…

For the sake of Mac’s enthusiasm, she tried to push those murky thoughts to the back of her brain and be present in the moment. And honestly, it was working. They had connected to Spotify for background music and danced around the kitchen like goofballs, —the white wine not helping. They had dinner, sang along to 2010’s hit songs dramatically and laughed about job anecdotes about Valentine and his ridiculous way of standing while speaking. After hours of fun chaos, it was time to relax. By now, they sat on the mattress, Korean-animal-printed face masks on, watching silently how the kittens spent their last zoomies for the day chasing after a loose shoelace. Jen was finally at peace when her phone buzzed by her side. Her eyes lit up the second she saw the notification name, but her heart dropped equally as fast once she read it.

“Love❤️: We need to talk.”

“Definitely bigger than yours!” He nodded his head in your direction, trying to get away from the embarrassment hitting a low blow. But he didn’t expect you to clap back at him.

“How do you know? Have you seen them or something?” You gave him a sassy look with a wiggle of your eyebrows at the end. He started to blush pink again, surprised, but before he could say anything to defend himself, you continued. “But fair. I don’t have that much boob action to begin with, so… you’re probably right.” You shrugged with an indifferent curve on your lips. Seeing how that didn’t seem to affect you, he tried to take a jab at you from a different angle.

“Yeah, let’s ignore how you probably have stared into mine for you to notice their size.” He gave you a side-eye with a smirk. You snorted, but before you could say something, Johnny jumped in.

“It’s not hard to miss, Gyro. They are practically staring at us before we even do!” That tore a laugh out of you.

“Good one, Johnny!” You slapped at your thigh.

“Johnny! You’re not helping!” Gyro looked frustrated that his plan hadn’t worked again, making him the butt of the joke once more.

“Yeah! One wrong move and they would pop out of your shirt!” Johnny kept on adding and you couldn’t breath at this point. It was the fact he kept a monotonous tone while saying them that made them even funnier to you. Gyro grabbed at his chest, comically offended at your comments. He barked back.

“Well, at least I don’t have a fat ass!!” He gritted his teeth, both of you however stood there confused for a second.

“Oh, you do, but his is cuter.” You blurred out.

“To which of us are you referring to?” Johnny spoke at the same time as you did. After both of you heard each other, there was a quiet pause as you exchanged gazes.

“So you think my ass is ‘cute’?”

“And you think I have a fat ass?” You questioned him.

“And you think I have a fat ass as well?!” Gyro added to your reproach.

“Because you do!” You turned to him, talking apparently angry but with a laugh threatening to escape. You moved your hand to point at him, scanning him with it up and down. “Just like your tits, your ass might make your pants explode as well!”

“Said the pan to the pot!” He clapped back. You gasped at his comment with a smile at the absurdity of the conversation. He stirred Valkyrie to get closer to your horse. He poked you with his finger when he was near enough. “The material of your pants needs to be studied for its resistance!”

“Oh!” You poked him back. “So you’re staring staring then!”

“Whenever you’re not looking.” Johnny chuckled from your other side, adding fuel to the fire. A blush tinted Gyro’s cheeks again.

“Hey! Don’t talk like you don’t stare as well!! How else would you know her ass was big as well?!” He pointed an angry finger at Johnny pass you. Now was his time to be flustered.

“Wow! She said my ass was cuter than yours so she’s also staring!!” Now he pointed at you. The blame had been changing hands like it was a game of hot potato.

“I’ve been riding behind you two all these days, what was I supposed to do? Look up at the sky?!” You articulated your point with your arms, a shameless smile at your lips. “At least I had to enjoy the view!” You pouted with a smirk, crossing your arms before you. Gyro scoffed, finishing with a grin. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, a malicious smile growing back on you. His expression shifted after seeing it. He thinned his eyes at you, suspicious.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Well—“ You closed your eyes before fully looking at them both.

“Don’t—!!”

“Now it’s your time to enjoy this view!!” You slapped your reins and kicked your feet, sending Hollow Spirit into a full gallop. Gyro didn’t waste a second on doing the same, having sensed that you were about to do something like that once again.

He didn’t give you time to get ahead of him, but both of you quickly left a surprised Johnny behind, screaming at the two of you to wait for him. Gyro turned to look at you angrily once he caught up and rode beside you. You however, focused on front, a shiteating grin at the speed and challenge. His face changed instantly after seeing how you were clearly enjoying yourself. You wanted a challenge? You’ll have one. He leaned back and grabbed one of his steel balls, not once slowing the pace on Valkyrie. After spinning it at the palm of his hand, he placed it over his horse’s backside like he did during the first stage. He passed you with a big smile, baring his golden teeth, you frowned at him accepting the race. Meanwhile, Johnny kept on yelling from behind you, being completely ignored by both of you.

*****

Eventually, after many, many antics, the three of you set camp for the night. As per usual, all of you secured your horses nearby to where you planned on starting your campfire. Gyro was the first one to leave, as if he was in a rush for something.

“You two prep the fire pit.” Was all he said before disappearing into the tree line. You couldn’t help but to raise an eyebrow at the sudden urgency.

“Okay…?” You practically shouted at him.

Dismounting your horse, you tied him up next to where Gyro had secured Valkyrie, Johnny guiding Slow Dancer in your direction. Αfter extending your hand, he handed you his reins so you could tie his mare next to the other two. Johnny removed his travel bag from its spot at the front of his saddle and dropped it on the floor. Soon, he followed, letting himself fall to the ground, dismounting Slow Dancer as you finished knotting his horse at the fallen tree. The way he always threw himself off of the horse was never going to cease to haunt you. You watched as he started to drag himself on the floor slightly ahead of the horses; one arm pulling his body weight, and the other grabbing onto his bag’s handle in an attempt to drag it with him as well. Walking towards him, you lifted it off the ground, Johnny turning when he felt his arm being pulled upwards from behind him.

“I’ll carry it for you. Don’t overdo yourself.” He just looked into your eyes, no expression showing at the gesture. Johnny let go of the bag and crawled a bit more before maneuvering his limp legs into a sitting position. Without a word yourself, you dropped it gently next to him before turning back to finishing tending to the horses. You could have sworn you heard a murmured ‘thanks’ once you turned around, but you didn’t respond to it. Instead, you kept on walking to get yours and Gyro’s luggage, setting them aside first so you could detach the saddles off of the three horses; that way all of you could rest peacefully for the night as well as you. Once done, you petted Hollow Spirit and, grabbing back the two remaining bags, walked towards where Johnny was sitting.

He moved his eyes in your direction after noticing you claimed the spot to his left, settling your bag on the grass next to you. You pressed your lips into a smile when you saw him looking at you, however, Johnny went back to looking down to the ground by his feet without further reaction. It didn’t bother you much and no extra thought was given either. It was Johnny after all. However, you couldn’t shake the feeling that whenever Gyro was around, he acted differently. It wasn’t that big of a change for you to think there was something wrong; he just happened to be a tad bit more talkative whenever the other man happened to be around. And when Ι mean ‘a tad bit’, I mean instead of one word he said two. It had always been an awkward silence the second both of you were by yourselves, and maybe what happened yesterday when you were alone only made it more obvious when silent. Or maybe he was just more comfortable with Gyro since he had known him for longer. At least that’s what you chose to flame it on.

Looking back down, you dragged your bag over your legs and started digging through your luggage, searching for the flint and steel for when Gyro brought the firewood he had just gone looking for not so long ago. All of a sudden, a faded rustling came from in between the bushes behind you. Your alertness spiked up, your head wiping to look in its direction. Your horses’ ears flipped backwards and shifted in their hooves, uneasy. Your head turned slowly to look at Johnny.

“Did you hear that…?” He nodded in response, moving from a sitting position up to pushing his body weight into his arms leaning forward. You changed to crouching into the balls of your feet slowly after hearing footsteps getting closer once again.

There was a quiet pause after that, no sound in the forest around you, which only made the heartbeat in your ears more deafening than the silence surrounding you. Then, without previous warning, the bushes at the end of the clearing moved rapidly, startling both Johnny and you into action. You attempted to stand up while stepping backwards to gain more reaction distance as you reached at your holster to pull out your gun. At the same time, Johnny moved towards the sound, practically launching himself forward into a sniper-like position, a pointed finger ready to shoot at whatever was about to emerge. However, both of you failed miserably at your own attempt to strike a defensive stance. Since you walked with your back turned to Johnny in a rush as to face the incoming danger, you didn’t notice how you practically walked right into him. The back of your knee bumped forcefully into his shoulder, making you tumble to the ground into your back with a big thud. Johnny grunted in shock at the impact, turning for just a fraction of a second to make sure you were okay and then went back to propping into his arm and knees in a determined aim. You, still startled, took your pistol clumsily and pointed it towards the bushes as well.

A familiar groan broke the silence as Gyro’s silhouette emerged from in between the branches. Both of you were surprised to see Gyro come out from the foliage; he came absurdly fast in comparison to the previous nights in the desert. “Wow! Already?” You commented, lowering your gun, fingers still on the trigger. “I didn’t even get to prepare the pit!”

“Guess a forest has a shit ton of sticks and branches.” Gyro commented with sarcasm as he carried an insane amount with ease, unintentionally showing off his strength. He stopped dead on his tracks the second he took in the scene before his eyes. “What’s with the position? Did I catch you two about to do something?” His eyes changed from yours to Johnny’s, a grin on his lips as he nodded his head in your direction.

Johnny sat back down on his feet, frowning at what Gyro was implying. Your eyebrows, however, tied into a knot, very much confused. “We were just ready to shoot at you, asshole! Nothing else!” The blond American defended, completely choosing to ignore how he practically sat in between your parted legs, your right ankle resting loosely over his shoulder.

“Yeah, sure!” Gyro smiled, skeptical about his friend’s words. He walked in your direction, dropping the wood he had found next to you where the firepit was supposed to be prepared by, dusting off his hands after. “What do we have for dinner?”

“I think I still have a few cans of beans left…” You answered him, pulling your legs back so you could sit instead of keeping on laying on your back. Johnny huffed from in front of you, leaning to the side into his forearm.

“We had them yesterday for dinner and I had to share a room with Gyro farting all night long. Let my nose get a breather tonight, please.” The way he said it so nonchalantly while also ending up being so unintentionally witty made you snort.

Johnny’s expression appeared to soften subtly at the sound of your laughter. Gyro jumped up, immediately trying to defend himself at the sudden attack in his partner’s comment. You stood up, ignoring the men’s bickering as you went to check on your bag. “Okay, okay!” You stopped them, checking inside your luggage, still a silly smile at your lips. “Maybe… I have another one…” Pausing as you went through it, you realized. “Oh, I did buy new ones yesterday. Completely forgot about them! Here, mushroom stew? Does it sound better?” You showed it to Johnny, unable to hold back snickering again.

“Yeah…!” He muttered.

“Well! Get the pot ready then!” You went back to doing your own thing, completely unaware at how his eyes stayed a bit longer on your smile. His figure relaxed on his arms, his whole face softening while in your presence and a very subtle twist on his lips, even if he didn’t want it to happen. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes focused on starting the fire. Kneeling down, you piled up the branches and twigs Gyro had gotten, trying to spark up a flame with your lighter. He watched intensively how you flickered both pieces against each other until finally a sparkle came out and the wood started burning; how you smiled triumphantly after it did. Then, your eyes moved towards him, locking into them. The air stopped in his throat, realizing he had been caught staring. “Go on. Fire is ready!”

Luckily for him, you just happened to be oblivious enough to it all. The real reason why he acted so differently whenever the two of you were left alone was quite the opposite of what you thought. Ever since the accident that left him paralyzed from the waist down, every and any interaction he had had had been negative, degrading him more than he already degraded himself. Every comment, every glance; all of them were directed with the intention of looking down at him, disgusted. All the people he had ever cared about during his lifetime had abandoned him and made him think of himself lesser-than after his injury, some even before it occured. Everyone except for you.

From the first day, you didn’t even know him but you still defended him from that old guy that punched him. Even after he was the one that struck first, even when he was rude to you after you asked him if he was okay. You never seemed to be unpleasant to him. Not even after they attempted to steal from you while you slept or every time he had declined your offer for help, you still never stopped offering it. Something about the way you were always kind and nice without being pitiful, made him feel weird, undeserving. It was refreshing to have someone don’t treat him like a piece of shit. And yet he seemed to hate it, —regardless if deep inside himself, Johnny felt a hint of fuzzy. He had started to learn how to accept your helping hand, and your sweet smile made it a little bit easier. Even if he didn’t want to show, Johnny was never a man able to hide his true feelings when it came to his face. And unfortunately for him, Gyro did notice.

“Johnny…!” The sound of your voice calling his name brought him back to reality, and so did the snapping of your fingers. “The pot…? You got it, right?”

“Oh! Yeah, hold on.” He turned on his side to search for it inside his luggage. You sat back down on your heels, dusting off the dirt slapping your palms together softly before pushing up on your thighs. You left the can near his legs as you stood up.

Once Johnny’s eyes left your frame and looked at Gyro, he knew he had been caught red handed, immediately stiffening up and sitting instead of leaning. Gyro raised his eyebrows and gave him a sly smirk, Johnny threatened him with his eyes, frowning. All of these happened in a couple of seconds where you were far too distracted talking about something and not noticing any of it. Your voice broke the silent tension between the two men.

“Well. While you two get dinner ready, I’ll go ahead and change.” You announced, stretching your back with a lean. Johnny froze for a second at your words, but the only thing you noticed was how Gyro’s eyes appeared to glow for a second. You quickly shut him down. “Don’t you think I’ll give you a show, Zeppeli. I’m going somewhere in the distance. Quit smiling like that!” You pointed a warning finger at him as you swung your travel bag over your shoulder.

“Damn…” He protested at your words. “What do two men have to do to get a private show from a young lady?” Johnny looked up from the fire to Gyro in front of him, seeing the way he was grinning wolfishly.

“Don’t rope me into this, Gyro.”

You adjusted the strap over your shoulder, holding onto it as you scanned the area. “Pay a prostitute.” You turned to give the man his silly smug look in return. “You had your chance back in the town yesterday. Maybe with that old bartender with the huge tits.” You mocked as you passed near him, having seen a good size rock to change behind his way.

“Well, how much do you charge?” He said, shamelessly, his head following you as you walked by. You choked a gasp in astonishment, stopping dead on your tracks as your head turned dramatically slow in his direction. Your eyes locked with his, same cheeky grin on his lips as always. Gyro sat down, leaning back in the palms of his hands as support. His green eyes scanned you up and down without shame as you smiled at him, but not in a positive way; more in a ‘I swear I'm going to kill you one day after one of these’ way. He raised his eyebrows as he bit his lip seductively. “So? What’s your—“ You have never swung your bag harder into someone before.

Before he could finish his sentence, you plummeted your luggage against him. He tried covering the back of his head but it was too late. He scrunched forward, curling into a ball as defense, his hat flying away after one of the smashes. “—Hey! Stop! I was just kidding—“

“Kidding my ass!” You kept on hitting him a bit more. Johnny tried holding up laughing as he watched while pouring the soup into the pot to heat it up.

“Johnny! Help—!” You finally stopped with a last blow before pulling it back to your shoulder.

“Nope. Well deserved.” Was all he added, clearly enjoying this type of fighting between the two of you. You walked away with a smug expression to go change. Gyro scoffed, looking over his shoulder as he fitted his hat back to his head.

“Women are such trouble…” Johnny just sneered in response to his comment.

“I can still hear you!” You shouted at him, only your head showing from behind the boulder. Gyro clicked his tone in annoyance.

“Yeah? Well, tune off your ears, pigtails. We’re having a ‘men only’ conversation over here!” Johnny raised his eyebrows but a serious expression on his face before bringing his attention back to stirring the soup.

*****

It didn't take long for the food to cook and warm up, and by that time you had already gone back to join the men. Same as last time, they stole a few glances at your change of clothes. You tried to ignore them as you walked back, hair loose; free from your usual pigtails, and your nightwear on, but still wearing your riding boots because you were not a psychopath. You didn’t understand what was so amusing about it all. Το you, it was just your set of pyjamas.

Taking the seat back where you had claimed it before, Johnny served you your ration of soup and handed it without much word. You muttered a ‘thank you’ as you took it, taking a sip after blowing the heat out of it slightly so you wouldn’t burn your tongue. The camp was uncharacteristically quiet, even for when all of you were having something to eat. You took it apon your own hands to initiate once again a conversation to fill the silence as the three of you had dinner. Normally, Gyro was the one who did that, but he was too busy eating to do that, surprisingly. Now that you had finally started to warm up to both of their company, you were getting more comfortable with coming out of your shell and letting yourself loose around them.

“So,” Your voice interrupting the quietness made both of them look at you as they ate. ”How does your nail-spinning thingy work?” You moved a curious hand in his direction. Johnny swallowed the bite he had taken before responding to you.

“Well, to be honest I’m not really sure about it either.” He set the bowl down in order to explain to you further. “I started training The Spin with a cork and somehow during a battle, the spin concentrated on my finger nails.” He twisted his left arm to show you, focusing his energy on the tip of his fingers to make his nails rotate off of the nailbeds. “I can shoot them with precision but I have to be careful so I don’t run out of nails unnecessarily. Like this.” He looked around, locating the empty can he had tossed before and firing his index finger’s to it. The shot made the metal cut open, almost dividing the can in two; both halves barely connecting by a string. You oohed in amusement as Johnny composed himself back into his previous posture, acting like what he had done was not impressive. “Now it's gone and I have to wait for it to grow back.”

“Wow! Can I?!” You didn’t wait for his response before you darted to embrace his hand in yours to examine his finger. “Freaky…” You took your time looking at it, in complete disbelief. Johnny couldn’t move an inch, he wasn’t even breathing at this point. His face was burning red, reacting to the suddenness of your touch while you caressed his empty nailbed with your thumb. “Does it hurt?” You looked up at his eyes with a strange glow in your pupils that made his heart skip a beat, your voice filled with child-like wonder.

“N-No, not really—” He removed his hand from yours carefully, as if not really wanting to let go. Johnny wrapped his other hand around it, rubbing his fingers over where yours had been. “But it is weird to feel the nail grow back.” All this time, Gyro had spent silently eating, quietly enjoying the show in front of his eyes with a wide grin hidden behind his bowl of soup.

“That’s honestly so cool!” You sat back down with your hands by your sides. “This is my third time seeing them in action!” Your mindless comment made the Italian man raise an eyebrow.

“Wait, when have you seen them before?” Gyro didn’t remember you being there whenever Johnny had used them, so it must had taken place some time when he wasn’t around.

“Oh, yeah!” Your eyes left Johnny and moved to him, explaining with your hands. “It was when you got captured yesterday. You weren’t there when it happened.”

Seeing how Johnny seemed to freeze at some memory he recalled, Gyro became interested in knowing what occurred when he was missing that day. “Oh! Care to tell me?” Those were the only words you needed in order to start yapping without end, and an insane amount of details; details Johnny was not fond of the tall man knowing.

“Oh! I don’t know about you, but it was chaos when we were alone!” You turned full cinematic when talking about it. “I don’t know if you noticed when it happened to you because when I saw you, you were already unconscious, so… anyway. We were riding as usual, and all of a sudden you disappeared.” You recalled what happened with enthusiasm, as if you weren’t scared shitless while it was occuring. “Of course we panic, and then your horse was sucked out of nowhere, then our horses, we fell to the ground! Then some weird fishing hooks appeared out of the sky and were about to snatch us as well, but I picked Johnny up and threw us rolling underneath a rock!” You told the story with a smile like it hadn’t been worthy of pissing your pants when you were living it.

“You picked Johnny up?” Gyro dug deeper on the details, clearly relishing on how his partner was wishing for the Earth to swallow him whole while listening to you recalling the events. He hadn’t reacted in the moment, too worried about surviving back then, but now that everything had passed, he couldn’t help but to feel embarrassed.

“Yeah! Picked him from the floor and took us under a rock. After rolling on the floor he shielded us both from the attacks.” Gyro nodded at your every sentence, giving Johnny subtle glances, wiggling his eyebrow whenever you mentioned the two of you being remotely close. “It was so scary! We spent like almost an hour cramped underneath that rock shelter because we didn’t know from where the attacks were coming from. After we got attacked again, I had to hold him tight so he wouldn’t be pulled!” The way Johnny was wishing you just shutted the fuck up right now was unbelievable. He didn’t know where to hide himself and you were so oblivious to how embarrassed he was. “Then, this little pink guy came out of his arm and made his toes shoot their nails as well!!” You mimicked a firing motion muttering the sound of bullets with enthusiasm.

“Wow! So Johnny has a stand now as well?” Gyro leaned back, satisfied with how Johnny’s cheeks were pink after what you had just recalled. “I can’t believe I missed all that then! The Spin truly is amazing, huh?” He mocked looking at the man, who was already shooting daggers at him for what he had put him through.

“Could I learn The Spin as well?” Your eyes searched for Gyro.

“Don’t even try, pigtails.” He answered before he even had time to think about it. The look in his eyes gave off a sense of superiority over you. It didn’t help that he sat with his arms spread and legs crossed one over the other.

“Why not?” Your eyes shifted into frustration. “Don’t tell me it’s because I’m a woman?” You thinned your eyes at him.

“No,” He clarified. “It’s a complicated technique to learn. Honestly, I’m shocked Johnny got it so easily, but he still needs to learn a lot of things! He’s only on his second lesson!” He lifted two fingers to emphasize his statement. “That, and that you’ll probably hurt yourself.”

“Well! At least give me the talk!” You turned your body to face him. “How does it work? The principles of the technique. What is it based on, how it works… Like, what’s the knowledge behind it?”

“It’s too complicated to explain like that.” Gyro shut down, waving his hand. “If you’re so keen on learning it, you’ll have to do it little by little like Johnny did.” He crossed his arms, leaning his head back insisting on it.

“Why?” You crossed your arms as well imitating him. “Does it have to do with the fact that everything in the Universe is maths? How every growth falls naturally into a pattern of spirals that extend infinitely? The Fibonacci sequence, also known as the Golden Ratio?” With every word that left your lips, Gyro’s expression turned more into a shocked one, changing from his relaxed spread into a concentrated sit.

“How do you–?”

“Know all this?” You raised an eyebrow at him, defiant. “I’ve studied it. Already forgot how I told you about the time I spent two years bedridden learning and reading books?” You scoffed.

“Still. That doesn’t make you a master just because you know the theory for it! You still need practice, and I’ll argue that’s the most important part!”

“Well then, if that’s the case,” You stood up and walked towards him. “Let me have a try.” He narrowed his eyes, frowning at your insolence.

“I just told you. I’m not lending you a steel ball. You’re going to hurt yourself. Start with something else like Johnny did.”

“Just let me—” You leaned down to grab it yourself.

“Wow, pigtails!” He smirked, moving away from your touch like a cat avoiding water. “Keep your hands to yourself!” He stood up as well and backed off from you.

You took a fighting stance, lowering your body and wiggling your fingers like a gunslinger before a duel. Gyro took another step back after seeing your wolfish grin, ready to challenge him. You moved quickly, shifting in your feet from one side to the other, trying to trick him on which one of them you were going to grab. He moved backwards, dodging your advances. Your insistence and his avoidance turned into a dance, both of you grinning like idiots. After one of your tries on touching one of the steel balls, your fingers brushed near Gyro’s crotch unintentionally. He froze for a second when he felt it, but you moved forward, too focused on getting your goal to realize what had just happened. The tip of your finger managed to touch the steel ball, making it spin inside the leather pocket. Gyro pushed you aside when he sensed it moving. You looked up at him with an accomplished smile.

“Ha! I told you I would do it!” You announced with pride, pointing a finger at him. He took the spinning steel ball out of its guard as you stepped forward.

“If you come any closer, I’ll shoot it at you like last time!” He stretched his arm pointing at you as well now. His tone was more serious now despite his smile, but you were determined.

“Try it! I’ll catch it before it hits me this time!” You challenged him with a confident smile. You moved towards him like you said you would, and he shot at you like he had warned you. As fast as your reflexes managed, you cupped your hands like a bowl to capture it. It hit the palms of your hands, the momentum of the speed making it bounce off as you had stopped the friction. You caught it back before it hit the floor. Once it was in your hand, you showed him triumphantly with a cocky smile. “Told you!” You straightened up, examining it. Gyro looked concerned from the corner of your eye, Johnny watched the altercation from where he sat during dinner equally amazed. The man walked towards you, trying to snatch it back, but you kept on dodging his swipes by going backwards without even lifting your eyes from the steel ball in your hands. “Should I throw it at you?” You said, finally looking back at him, showing teeth mischeviously.

“Drop it.” He spoke firmer than you had ever heard him when he saw you lifting your arm as if you were teasing him a throw. “Drop it before you tear your arm off!”

“Relax, I’m not going to do it!” You went back to inspecting the ball curiously. You traced the curves and edges with the pad of your fingers. The texture was something between porous and weirdly smooth. “It’s heavy too, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s pure steel, why wouldn’t it—? Hey! Stop—!” Right as he was explaining it to you, you had flicked it upwards, making it go up in the air. The action was innocent enough, like you would do with any other type of ball, but now you were dealing with murderous weapons. Completely unaware of how actually dangerous it was what you were doing, you kept on with your comments. It was puzzling how you hadn’t hurt yourself yet.

“Your belt must be so tight if it’s stopping your pants from dropping to the floor with two of these hanging on them!” You laughed to yourself as you kept throwing and catching the steel ball in your hand.

“I’m serious, Rosemary. Drop it before you get hurt.” Despite his warnings, you continued to ignore him.

“I’m fine. Let me give it a try. How hard can it be, really?”

Seeing how you wouldn’t listen to him, Gyro started to walk towards you with the intention of snatching it from your own hands himself, for real this time. You saw his intentions and before he did, you threw it one last time. Before he was able to get any closer you decided to shoot it, actually do it. This might be your first and last chance you had to test it, so why not.

Your arm was relaxed, hanging lightly at the elbow. Tilting your hand a little, you had let the steel ball roll gently to the top of your fingers and moved them in a quick wave motion the closer it got to the edge of your hand. Each phalange gave it enough force to go higher, with the pad of your three middle fingers flicking it simultaneously at the end, making it spin on itself. Gyro couldn’t believe his eyes when he could have swore he saw a golden glow.

Before he was able to grab it from you, you had caught it on its way down to your hand and spun your whole arm in a gradual circular motion. You curved your wrist, then your elbow, moved your shoulder back and down, curling the whole arm with its movement, following the exponential progress, sending the curvature all the way down to your fingers again. The steel ball spun like no other time, tiny sprinkles of light sparkled in the dark as it zoomed its way into the forest. Once again, Gyro saw something golden emerge from your throw, this time clearer than before. The force of the steel ball pierced the side of a tree trunk, following a spherical curvature to a boulder making it ricochet on it and sending it coming full speed towards you like a boomerang. You covered your face and ducked in preparation to getting hit, but Gyro caught it with his hand before it did. He turned around to face you, stretching the hand with which he held the still spinning steel ball at you, pointing a finger.

“You! How did you do that?!” His face was a mix between frustration, admiration and fear. His eyebrows frowned in confusion but his eyes stared into your gaze frenetically, so many questions in them that needed answers.

“Do what? Throw it? I just—”

“No! I mean, yeah— You shouldn’t have been able to, but— That’s not what I meant!” He tumbled on his words, clearly overwhelmed with wonder. “How did you get it to glow?”

“Glow? I don’t know what you’re talking about…” You looked at him like he was a blue dog, an awkward smile showed on your lips.

“The arm! It glowed! How did you do it?!” He moved his hands signaling and pointing to your left arm like a maniac. You stared down to your arm, wondering now. “Johnny, you did see it too, right?!”

“No, not really.” He admitted from next to you two, still sat near the campfire. Gyro was about to lose it, but he swore he was not seeing things, not yet. Against his wishes, he grabbed your hand and placed the steel ball back in your palm.

“Do it again! Throw it just like you just did!” He stepped aside, staring at your arm, analyzing how you moved. You flicked your eyes between his and the steel ball in your hand, not understanding how before he was so against you using them and now he was adamant on you doing it again. An awkward laugh escaped your lips.

“Why do you—“

“Don’t back down now. You’ve already done it. Do it again.” The exasperation was palpable in Gyro’s voice. You eventually caved in and prepared yourself to throw.

Just like last time, you wrapped your fingers loosely around it, and moved your arm in a circle, each part of it twisting one at a time. Like previously, right as you moved, from the shoulder to the tip of your fingers, something glowed around it, spiraling, a tail of light followed your movement. The steel ball spun in your palm, and you sent it flying making it go faster after your fingertips gave it an extra push. It twisted with force again, this time bursting the other side of the pierced tree, making it crumble. That was how much strength you had given the steel ball. You shrunk at the cracking of the wood, surprised and worried about the loud noise you had unintentionally created. Gyro caught the steel ball with his hand once again as it came back to you.

“Wow, I did see it glow!!” Johnny commented, shocked.

“Right?!” The other man exclaimed, finally being reassured against the idea of him going insane.

You however, couldn’t be more confused. In silence you stared at the tree you just demolished and the concave indent the steel ball you threw earlier had left in the rock next to it. The two men talked enthusiastically, but their conversation was not registering in your brain. Your eyes had fallen quietly to look at your arm, moving it carefully around as you examined it, although you weren’t sure what you were searching for. Gyro shook you from the shoulder, interrupting your thoughts.

“How did you get a perfect golden ratio on the first try?!” He said, frustrated at how easy you made it look, though a bit of amusement was seeping through his tone. You looked up at his eyes as he still rocked you lightly.

“I don’t even know what you mean with that…” A genuine puzzled smile at your lips.

“Y’know,” he placed the steel ball back by his belt. “The whole thing with ‘spirals everywhere’ that you said before.” He mimicked your tone and gestured with his hands.

“Oh…” Your arm relaxed back to the side. “So like, a golden spiral of Fibonacci?” He nodded at you, waiting impatiently for a genius answer on how you solved the secret to the technique, one he not only had taken years to learn but also hadn’t finished mastering himself. Gyro was both curious about how you did it without any previous training, but also wanting to learn it so he could use it. Much to his misfortune, you weren’t going to give him a satisfactory explanation. “Well, I don’t know!” His whole posture flattened as he watched you walking away back to your seat on the floor. “I just know that from art. It’s not like I calculated it before throwing it!” You laugh softly, both at your humble answer and the way Gyro stood at your anticlimactic response.

“So you’re telling me it was all luck?” His lip twitched to the side, showing a hint of his golden teeth. You shrugged next to Johnny.

“Most probably, yeah…”

“Most probably…” The tall man repeated your words, mumbling them, trying to make sense of them. “Most probably…” One of his hands covered his face, dragging it down in desperation as the other one’s fingers tapped rhythms by his hip. His eyes moved from the forest, to you, back to the floor and then back to your frame, in search for answers. You just stared at him in silence, Johnny doing the same next to you.

His expression changed from confusion, to realization, to frustration, then anger. Gyro started walking towards you, shooting a pointed finger in your direction.

“Well, it has to be something with the way you moved your arm what caused it.” Your eyebrows knotted together.

“I’m telling you I just moved my arm as normal. It’s the first time I have done anything with something like the steel balls.” You leaned forward, elbows hanging from your spread knees. “What makes you think otherwise?” At your question, Gyro’s eyes narrowed with a light pause.

“Because you want to be ahead of me.” You almost got whiplash at the assumption, your eyes blinking rapidly at the statement.

“Wow!” What?!” You threw your palms up before you, in shock.

“Yeah! It’s once again one of your games to be ‘ahead of me’ and seeing yourself better than me!”

You listened to his incoherent explanation with a smile of disbelief at your lips, which probably he took as reasurance. Even Johnny’s expression contorted at the reach his friend was making. “Are you hearing yourself…?” You bobbed your head down once, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes!” He pointed his finger closer to your face, his tone getting more arrogant as if he were a detective cracking up a case. “You know exactly how you did it, and you’re choosing not to share that information as a power move!” He crossed his arms before his broad chest triumphantly as he towered over you, casting a shadow from the fire. “That’s the only explanation.”

Johnny glanced at your expression, fearing another one of your fights about to happen. Your face went through a rollercoaster of emotions in mere seconds. Confusion, disbelief, a hint of anger showed as well. But you stopped yourself before it got any further. You took a deep breath in and kneaded your forehead with your fingers letting it out. Then, your eyes turned to meet Gyro’s again and spoke with a motherly voice.

“Tienes las neuronas justas para no cagarte encima, hijo mio…”

Both men were surprised at the sudden Spanish, not understanding one bit. Did you just insult him? “Wh— What did you just call me?”

“I said…” You slapped your thighs and stood up, making your faces be inches apart. “…you have just enough neurons not to shit yourself, Zeppeli.” You translate with a smile. The man stared at you, perplexed. Johnny snorted, breaking him out of his trance. He immediately whipped in his direction, flaring.

“Do you think that’s funny, Johnny?!?” It was dark and his face was turned away from him, but you could totally see the red in his earlobes.

“Yeah…” The other one answered, leaning back into his forearms. “I mean, she’s not wrong. Your theory was a large reach, buddy.”

“Honestly, I have had diarrheas with more consistency than that argument…” His neck snapped to your words, only to see the amusement in your face as you held a laugh, really badly so, at the way he fired up so easily.

Gyro was fuming, both at your comment and how his supposed friend wasn’t planning on defending him from it. His chest rose rapidly in anger as he switched his glancing between looking at you and Johnny. “Fine!” He finally snapped, flaring his arms in the air. “I’m too tired for this already! We will figure it out tomorrow!” He finished giving you a nasty side eye, showing his teeth like a rabid dog. You just scoffed, shaking your head as you turned to face away from him.

“Good night then.” Was all you said. Your lack of collaboration and subtle giggling in your voice making him more mad.

“Good night, Rosemary.” Johnny responded back, unlike his partner, who chose to sit down over his bedroll starring daggers into your back as you prepared your resting place.

Eventually, Johnny took out his sleeping bag as well and rolled it carefully over the grass. He gave Gyro a last goodbye before adjusting his legs and snaking his way inside to put himself to sleep for the night. With that, only Zeppeli was left awake, being the first one to keep watch for the night. It didn’t take long for Johnny’s quiet snores to join your sleeping noises in feeling the silence of the night. Gyro sat there, still confused but calmer this time. With all the fuzz, he hadn’t even returned the steel ball back into its pocket; still holding on to it with a tensed hand. He turned his wrist to examine it on his palm, the metallic green reflecting the light of the fire as he moved it around. Gyro’s eyes lifted slowly back to you, analyzing you less angry this time.

“What is your secret…?” He murmured to himself.

*****

After it was Johnny’s time to nightwatch, he woke you up around 4am for the last round before the three of you set off in the morning. Having fully woken up now, you chose to change back into your riding gear while the men were sleeping. Then for the next three hours, you wrote down your daily entry in your journal, re-organized your belongings again in your travelbag and rearranged the firepit for the morning coffee Gyro usually prepares. Everything was about as set as you could physically get it before it was time to leave, so sensing any of them could wake up any minute now, you decided to get the horses ready. You stood up from your kneeling stance and walked towards them, stretching your arms with a yawn.

“Good morning, girls.” You said, passing your two companions’ mares to your own horse. “‘Morning, sweet boy!” Hollow Spirit vibrated with a groan at your words, moving his head towards your hand for his morning scratches. You took out from your bag dedicated to him his hard brush to start his care-routine, like you liked to call it. It mostly was a brushdown before getting him ready to be ridden and feeding him some snacks as a sweet treat for a good start. “Did you have a good night's sleep today, boy?” Hollow Spirit nickered while you took care of the coat at his side as if he wanted to have a conversation with you, so you answered back to his ‘comments’. “Yeah? Glad to hear it. I had a great night too. But my shoulder still hurts a little.” He neighed in response, like he was negging you. “I know, I know… I should take better care of myself.” By then, you had finished brushing him; his hair and mane were untangled and ready to flow in the wind graciously while making the boys chase behind you.

Dusting your hands and clothes off from the dust and sand that had clinged to you after cleaning your horse, you walked back to your bag near the firepit. Right as you were going through your stuff, Gyro moved in his sleep, catching your attention. He took a deep breath in, opening his eyes with a stretch.

“Morning, Gyro.” He just growled back while he sat up, his eyelids still heavy with exhaustion. You stood back up after fishing an apple and a few sugar cubes from your bag, not sharing further words. Hollow Spirit followed you, curiously, waiting rather impatiently today for his morning treat. You shushed his advances at trying to nibble inside of your pocket by slapping his nose softly with your fingers. “Wait.” He backed away a few steps, but kept a reasonable close distance, pawing at the ground as he blew through his nostrils.

Gyro watched from the campfire as he prepared the mocca to make the usual morning coffee. His hair was messy, hat yet resting by the side of his bedroll, as did his distinctive deep purple t-shirt. He chose to sleep in his undershirt today: a loose tank top, but kept the riding pants on for the night. You were sure they hadn’t been washed since probably the first day of the race. He saw how you chatted with your horse, laughing, as you polished the apple you took with your shirt before taking it into the palm of both of your hands and snapping it in two perfect halves; the ease with which you did it made it obvious it was something you were used to doing. The hissing of the coffee pot made his attention turn back to breakfast. He removed it from the fire and prepared some cups for serving.

“Hey! Do you want coffee?” You turned with humming at his question, before shaking your head no with one piece of the apple in your mouth.

“No, thanks. I’ll have this instead.” Now with your hands free, you gave the other half to your horse, him taking it carefully with his lips. The two mares side-glanced at Hollow Spirit with envy, nodding their heads in protest. “Don’t worry, ladies! There’s something for you too!” You whispered. Making sure Gyro wasn’t looking, you positioned yourself to give him your back and fished out of your pocket the sugar cubes you had taken. “There you go… Enjoy.” The two horses walked closer, nibbling at your hands, one palm each. You had only known your way with horses, and even if these girls were proven stubborn, you understood how to get to their sweet side. Slow Dancer walked away as soon as she realized she had eaten all of the goods, but Valkyrie scanned your hand with her lips for the last crumbs like a madman. “Sorry, you have finished them all.” She pinned her ears back, showing her teeth, argumentative. “I’ll give you more tomorrow. Don’t worry!” Valkyrie seemed to calm down after you whispered that promise to her. But she still gave you a hard look as if to tell you ‘you better not forget about it!’ before going back to chewing on the grass.

You walked back to your spot by the firepit, seeing how Gyro was shaking Johnny awake. “Come one, Sleeping Beauty! Rise and shine!” He groaned, scrunching his face, eventually slapping Gyro’s hand surprisingly forcefully for someone just waking up.

“Would you stop?” He said, groggily, as he turned to his side, finally opening one of his eyes. His eyebrows were set angry looking at the man before he caught sight of you.

“Good morning, Johnny.” You greeted, warm smile as always. To his still sleepy self, it was like the sun itself was speaking to him.

“‘Morning, Rosemary.” After his words, you turned to put back your horse’s care bag inside of your luggage and kept on tidying up your sleeping gear, completely unaware of how he continued watching you with sleepy eyes. Johnny didn’t even realize he was doing it until Gyro nudged him with one of the coffee cups.

“Come on. We’re waiting for you to get ready to leave. Don’t lose your head in the clouds any longer.” He punched with a smirk, noting how he had caught him staring. Johnny sat up straight as he side eyed his partner.

“I’m not.” He grumbled into the rim of the cup before taking a sip.

“Sure not.” He reassured playfully as he stood up and started packing as well.

Whilst Johnny finished having his breakfast and waking up fully, Gyro went to tend to his horse; giving Valkyrie a brush down as well as preparing Slow Dancer for his companion. He brought one sippy cup with coffee to give to his mare; something he did every morning as a power-up for her. He realized something was wrong with Valkyrie when, as he was brushing her coat, she kept on trying to get her muzzle into his back pocket.

“What are you looking for, girl? There’s nothing in there.” You turned around when you heard him speak, catching a twist of confusion on his face, like he was missing out on something. What made it funnier was how his horse appeared to nag him as if he was hiding something he clearly wasn’t or more in a ‘why don’t you do those type of things?’ way.

You snorted a chuckle when you saw how Valkyrie kept swerving her head towards you and shaking it up and down, with her ears pinned backwards. Gyro turned to follow the direction of her signalling, catching you laughing quietly behind his back. Against what you had expected, he limited himself to a suspicious glare before going back to brushing her sides. Your gaze fell to the floor as you finished rolling up your sleeping bag and then, moved up to Johnny. You took a second to admire how he was staring blankly into the remaining ashes from the fire.

“Are you done with it?” Your words broke him up from his trance, snapping his eyes to you.

“Huh?”

“Your breakfast—“ You gestured towards the empty cup he held loosely in his hand. “Are you done with it?” He looked down in realization before stretching his arm to you.

“Oh— Yeh, sure.”

You sniffed out a laugh as you took it into your hand, the tip of some of your fingers exchanging brushes in the action. You gave it a quick rinse with the spare water and passed the canteen to him so he could wash his face. After that, you continued on with the last remaining task before leaving: clearing out the pit. You didn’t need anybody to know someone had taken shelter here. It was a way to clear your footsteps from possible enemies following your track. As you kicked down and patted the hole leveled, Johnny pulled out his legs from the sleeping bag to start packing up. He slipped his hoodie over his undershirt and adjusted his characteristic beanie under the quietly impatient stare Gyro was giving both of you from on top of his horse already. Catching from the corner of your eye how Johnny was almost finished, you guided Slow Dancer closer to him so he needn’t have to drag himself all the way to where you tied your horses yesterday. He looked surprised at the gesture, but alas, he mounted her without any further comment to your kindness; not even after you handed his bags to him so he could secure them in place. As Johnny finished, you got on Hollow Spirit, clicking your tongue twice to signal your horse into movement the second Johnny gave the go-ahead.

*****

The day had risen as a quiet, chilly morning, but the warmer sunrise light helped to avoid the coldness of the temperature. Νot forgetting about Gyro’s conspiracy from last night, you chose to ride behind him; him leading the path, seconded by you, and Johnny close to your side but guarding your back. After the shorter, American man had set the direction the group had to follow, Gyro wasted no second in claiming first spot, reminding both of you how he was to get first place this time. You didn’t know if it was because he was still mad about yesterday’s steel balls incident or if he had just woken up with his left foot. Regardless of which one it was —although you being pretty sure it was the first one stated— you chose to give him some space; that is, until you decided it would be funnier to torment Gyro further with your nonsense. Being too early in the morning for any of you to feel like talking, everyone had rode in absolute silence for a good hour or two. So it was about time someone made an interaction.

“So, Neapolitan huh?” You stirred your horse closer to his mare, leaving Johnny to ride behind the two of you unintentionally. He glared at you from the corner of his eye. Normally he would have been up to conversation, but he was still a bit pressed about you apparently becoming a master of the Spin after throwing it once.

“Yes, why?” He responded back as dry as the air you breathed a few days ago back at the desert.

“Nothing. Just that ‘Gyro’ doesn’t seem like an Italian name to me. Is it a nickname?” He snapped his head defensively at your words, surprising you a little.

“Well, ‘Rosemary’ isn’t a very Spanish name either, and that’s how you’re called!” He snapped back. You leaned your head to the side, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Maybe it isn’t because it’s actually not my real name, dumbass. It’s a nickname my coworkers gave me and it stuck. So I just go by it because I’m used to it.” You explained, moving your frame back to face forward.

”Well, maybe yours is a nickname, but mine is my real name.” He finished, copying you and looking towards the horizon in front of both of you as well.

“Oh, sure!” You scoffed, mocking him, as you raised your palms. “So you mean to tell me there’s this object called gyro-scope whose qualities have to do with something similar to the spin and your parents happened to name you Gyro as well??? Yeah, I’m not buying it.” You insisted.

“Maybe they just knew before I was born that I would become a prodigy in my family’s skill.” Gyro mocked without his eyes leaving the land far before him. However, he saw your head turn to face him from the corner of his eye. The way your eyebrows twisted as if they had won an argument in response to his answer. He was sure you were not going to buy it by the way you kept on staring as the silence grew in intensity. Funny thing is, if it had been any other person, he would have been able to ignore that stare or wave off their curiosity. But there was something about you that made his heart rate spike up like he was hooked to a lie detector. Eventually, it was that exact tension what made him confess. “Fine. ‘Gyro’ is a nickname, okay?” He finally caved, giving you a dirty look. “I’m still not telling you, tho.”

“Pff!” You laughed. “Then that can only mean two things: it’s either super common or something historical and borderline cliché and super corny, if someone like you is not willing to share their name proudly!”

You turned to face forward, setting the reins in the horn of the saddle, mind brainstorming. “Since I’m guessing your family has a religious background because of how much you knew when you explained the corpse thing the other day, maybe it’s something Biblical.” You sneaked a side glance at him. There it was, that look again. He had caught it in your eyes once more, even if it had been a side eye. After seeing no reaction to it, you assumed you guessed incorrectly and went back to sharing your second hypothesis. “Or maybe, since apparently, your family is close to the King back in Italy, it’s someone with power or a famous ruler’s name.” Gyro rode on your left, holding his reins, tensed, as he gave you a nasty side-eye, lips twisted in annoyance. He hated how well you were reading him; it didn't matter how hard he tried to hide his expressions. He didn’t expect himself to miss the days you were a quiet one. Finally, after like two excruciating seconds thinking in silence, you continued. “Something like Brutus…” You waved your hands in the air, announcing it theatrically. “Or Julius Caesar, you being Italian and all…”

His head whipped towards you, face white as a ghost. You laughed to yourself, unaware.

“That honestly would be so fucking funny if I just—…” The moment you lifted your gaze and looked at him was magical. “Ain’t no way!” A blush creeped to his cheeks and you couldn’t control your laughter. “Did I actually get it?” You leaned towards him, Gyro now avoiding your eyes like a prey animal looking for a way out. If he didn’t look at you, you saw nothing. The redness on his face betrayed his attempt to keep his cool. You whispered with a proud smirk. “Is it Julius Caesar?”

Once you said it again, his demeanor flipped like a switch; instantly turning to face you and grabbing you by the collar, almost throwing you off of your horse. “Say it again and I’ll blow your brains off, woman!” An angry finger pointed at you with crimson cheeks. “Keep it secret. Not even my brothers know about it, so shut it! Don’t you dare tell Johnny either!” Your eyes darted between his, a bit scared at his hostile reaction. He practically held you so close you could feel his heavy seething on your whole face. After noticing his grip, he let you go.

“Okay, don’t worry!” You lifted your palms in surrender as soon as you secured yourself back on the saddle. “Your secret is safe with me!” You reassured him, mimicking zipping your mouth and throwing away an invisible key.

He exhaled furiously besides you, still reddened; if it was with embarrassment or rage you didn’t know. You found it adorable nonetheless. Last time you saw him so worked up about something was last night when you threw his steel balls using the spin perfectly without even trying. You couldn’t stop staring at him; so flustered and vulnerable. You smiled teasingly, pink hues hinting at your cheeks now.

“It suits you.” He just looked at you through the corner of his eye, then clicked his tongue and turned dramatically to the opposite direction. “Julius Caesar…” This time you said it softly, to yourself. Cute.

“What are you guys screaming about?” Johnny appeared from Gyro’s left, startling you both. Apparently he had been riding far enough behind not to understand what you were whisper-screaming just now.

“Nothing!”

“We were playing a guessing game to lighten up the mood!” You improvised. Gyro gave you a warning with his eyes but you continued, responding to his glare with another look that said ‘I got this’. “He got mad because I guessed his pubes looked like his beard, y’know? All patched up and trimmed into squares.” You laughed to make it seem factual after explaining drawing out his beard shape at your jawline, —but also at the idea of it being an option. Johnny turned from you to Gyro with a look of concern and amusement, eyes going from his cropped beard to his crotch, probably trying to visualize it. You followed his gaze to the man on your other side, but when you were met with Gyro staring at you extremely confused and a face at least five shades deeper than before, you bursted out laughing. “NO FUCKING WAY, DUDE!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He pointed an infuriated digit at you, but you were too busy howling uncontrollably to notice him doing it.

You lost it, this time for real. After almost full minutes of crying laughing while Gyro burned with embarrassment under Johnny’s curious examinations, you exhaled, one hand resting in your abdomen as you cleaned a tear with the other one. “Ah… now I kinda want to see it!” You turned to him with a smirk, another giggle vibrating in your throat as you said it.

“If you ever suck my dick you’ll see!” He barked at your words, probably without thinking. “Too bad you turned down the offer last night!” His voice became a mock, with a hint of a challenging hit to it.

“Oh, really?” You lowered your eyebrows, thinning your gaze. Your boldness activated to his teasing, so you teased back. “Balls right here, big boy.” You said as you taped at your chin with your hand, reciprocating his mockery.

He straightened at that, his grin fading for a second, clearly not expecting you to follow his game. Before he could answer back, you ran off laughing at his reaction; both parts fleeing the chaos and initiating a chase.

“Johnny, did you see that?!” He turned to his companion stuttering, visibly agitated.

“See what?” Johnny raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. “How she got you all red? Yeah, I saw that.”

“I swear she’s driving me mad!” Gyro twisted his fists in frustration; teeth grinding as he saw you gallop away.

“Yeah, madly in love.” Johnny teased.

“Don’t—“ He stopped himself, his nail centimeters away from the blond’s face, the man not flinching at his threat. Gyro growled, setting his eyes back on you. “Let’s keep going. I’m not letting her get first place again!”

Both men signaled their horses to go faster to catch up with you, who trotted not that far ahead of them now. As they were on their way, Johnny couldn’t help himself. “Do your pubes really look like that?”

“HUH?!”

“Now you got me curious too. I kinda wanna see them as well, not gonna lie…” He added with a giggle, clearly also enjoying teasing the man.

“I'M NOT SHOWING YOU MY PENIS, YOU FREAK! FUCK OFF!” From where were all this attacks, and sudden interest in his pubes, all come out of? Gyro tried to regulate himself focusing his mind in beating you, —whether it was just racing or up, he was fine with both. The rocking of the hooves was helping him calm down, that was until Johnny spoke again.

“But… does it grow like that or—“

”ENOUGH!!!”

*****

The sun was lowering into the horizon once again, signaling to the group night was coming. Before it got any darker, they decided to set camp for the day. Aside from the usual chatter and your fruitful attempts at annoying the living shit out of Gyro, the journey had been quite accomplishing. Not only had you covered a longer distance than Johnny had predicted —totally not due to you intentionally initiating races every chance you got— but you also were able to hunt a rabbit earlier thanks to Johnny’s spinning nails.

Gyro got off of Valkyrie and you did the same; dismounting Hollow Spirit in the clearance in the woods you had chosen and happened to find while passing by. Johnny followed suit, but closer to the spot where the firepit was going to be prepared by, as per your request. Once he was off of her, you guided his horse to be secured nearby where both of your other horses were, taking his luggage from on top of Slow Dancer and bringing it to him. As you went back to retrieve the rest of the bags, Gyro started to take off the horses’ saddles and gear so they could rest as well. You went back to have a seat next to Johnny.

“Thanks for earlier.”

“No need.” You grunted as you sat on the floor. No more talking was shared, instead, both of you resorted to silently watching how Gyro searched around the treeline for branches and dry foliage to start the fire with. After about five minutes with only the forest sounds and his cursing as white noise, he turned annoyed, after having been sensing quiet eyes on his back this whole time.

“Y’know? You could get your ass up and help me get the firewood.” He snapped at you. “I only remember Johnny not being able to walk.”

You leaned back into the palm of your hands. “Nah! I could, but I just don’t feel like it.” You paused, tilting your head up with a sassy smile as you watched him bare his teeth at your response. “Or is it that hard you need help from a woman?” You accentuated the last word to attack his ego once more today, since clearly, you couldn’t get enough of his reactions when you succeeded. You watched content, enjoying visualizing smoke coming out of his ears before you gave in. “Fine. I’ll help you out just this once.” You stood up and dusted your hands in your pants. Gyro went back to searching when he saw you coming his way. Before joining him, you turned to Johnny. “Why don’t you prepare the rabbit you caught for dinner while we gather up the wood for the campfire?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I could do that.”

“Thanks.” You gave him a smile before taking your sweet time walking to Gyro, who was already growing impatient, even if he carried a few twigs in his arms by now.

Johnny watched from the middle of the clearing as you two bitched at each other yet again, although he wasn’t quite able to make out what you were saying. He started to behead the rabbit to skin it —that way it will be easier to clean up and cook— when he heard your laugh roar exceptionally loud. As soon as he looked up and saw the scene, he understood. Next to you, who were doubled over clutching at your stomach, he could make out Gyro on the floor, screaming at you to quit laughing.

“What happened?!” He shouted, getting your attention. “Did he fall?”

“He tried ripping off a bush and fell on his ass!” Johnny sniffed a laugh.

“Can’t believe I missed it!” He responded back while you walked in his direction, leaving behind you Gyro, still palming as his hurt buttcheek. You dropped the wood you had managed to find, minus that dried bush, in front of Johnny.

“Are you done with the rabbit?” You asked as you knelt down to prepare the firepit.

“Almost.” He answered whilst going back to cleaning. “I just need to take the guts out.”

“I think I’ll have the fire ready by then— Hey!”

Right as you were talking, Gyro came up from behind you and toupled your hat over your face with a slap. “Oops!” He mocked, as it flew over your head. Luckily, you were able to catch it before it landed over the pit, —it didn’t have a full flame yet, but it was already smoking. He was clearly doing it as a revenge for laughing earlier, but you weren’t going to let him get away with it. Since you were kneeling, you stretched out one of your legs behind you as he was walking to his luggage, purposefully —and successfully— making him trip.

“Oops!” You imitated. Gyro regained his balance quickly, turning to face you with an angry twist on his lips.

“Oops! Think I stepped on shit!” He grunted. As you turned to check on it, he pushed your shoulder with his boot, kicking you to your side. You gasped at his audacity. Without much thinking, you picked a stick from the pit up and chucked it at him, hitting the back of his head.

“Oh, sorry! Must have slipped from my hand!” You shook your head, faking concern with sarcasm after seeing Gyro scratch the back of his neck. He growled as he went to pick the stick up to throw it back to you, but his action was interrupted by Johnny’s complaint.

“Could you two stop and behave for a goddamned minute?!?” The tone in his voice made both of you stop in your tracks. You had heard him be angry before, but he had never sounded so serious. Gyro clicked his tongue and tossed his ‘weapon’ into the pile instead. You, in turn, muttered a ‘sorry’ before going back to stoking the fire.

After that, the rest of the dinner was quiet. Once Johnny was done with cleaning up the meat, you cooked it along with a can of tomato soup. Everyone ate in silence, cleaned after themselves and changed into their sleeping clothes without further comment. By now, the three of you sat down on top of your respective bedrolls, each of you doing your own thing, night too early to go to sleep: Gyro cleaned his steel balls, Johnny mapped out tomorrow’s route, and you updated your diary since you didn’t do it yesterday. Maybe it was to break the awkward silence that seemed to have invaded the whole campsite, or maybe it was that, while polishing the steel balls, he happened to remember what took place last night around about the same hour.

“Y’know…” His voice made both Johnny and you look up from what you were doing.

“I still don’t believe you have no idea how to get the Golden Ratio glow you did last night.” The change in your expressions was radical.

“Are you serious right now…?” You finally responded, deadpanned. “Are you still pressed about that?”

“Yes?!”

“Here we go again…” Johnny rolled his eyes at how dramatic Gyro’s demeanor had become out of nowhere once more. “Can’t you just let it— What are you doing?” You standing up from your seat made the man stop mid sentence and turn his frustration to you now. “Are you dumb? Could you guys not fight for a damned day or what?!”

“I’m going to show him how I did it.” You clarified, cutting his nagging sharply.

“Ha! I knew it!” Gyro exclaimed, crossing his arms in victory. “Of course you had—“ Once again you interrupted his speech, but this time it was when a rolled up piece of cloth landed in between his crossed legs. “… What is this?” He took it in his hand.

“My pencil case.” You clarified as he went to untie the tiny ribbon keeping it closed. “If you insist on me teaching you my ways, I guess I have no other alternative, do I?” You finished by taking it out of his hand and dropping to sit in the space in between his and Johnny’s sleeping bags. “Like I told you last night, all I know about the Golden Ratio is mostly art related.” You started to explain as you took out the pocketknife you stored secured in one of the compartments of the pouch to sharpen your graphite pencil. “Of course, I have also studied it in mathematical and scientific terms, but I have only made use of it when painting. Although, I do occasionally love stopping to look and identify it in nature.” You talked while you flipped your notebook to a blank page, starting to draw a rectangle in the middle. You continued to explain. “The Golden Ratio to me is a mathematical proportion used in art and architecture to create aesthetically pleasing, harmonious compositions by using focal points to direct interest.” With ease, you drew a perfect spiral softly inside the frame you made before. “Artists use this ratio to arrange elements in a way it feels natural and balanced to the human eye. For example, if I were to make a portrait, the body should be around here, so the head lands here, and that way, the spiral guides the focus of your eyes to the lips.” You sketched a simple silhouette of a person inside the rectangle, as it was the thumbnail of a painting for them to visualize your explanation as you spoke. After you were done, you flipped the notebook towards them to show them. “See?”

“Oh, I see…” Johnny whispered as he leaned in, curious. Gyro just observed in silence.

“Another thing that I studied is anatomy, and on that, how the human body also follows consistent proportions that are sometimes based on the Golden Ratio, —among other mathematical ratios, that is—, which I find fascinating.” You placed the notebook on the floor now by your side. “For example, did you know that the total arm span of a person equals to about, roughly, their height?” You sat up straight, opening your left arm as far as you could and parted with a tap of your right hand by the end of your right clavicule. “This will be about a meter long. Or about 3 feet and 3’3 inches for you, Johnny.” You then extended your right arm fully. “And this should be my full height, so that means my arm must be about 60cm long and my chest about 40cm, —having in mind I’m around 1’60m tall.”

You turned to watch the men, checking if they were paying attention. Gyro observed in silence, his eyes concentrated in what you explained; probably too busy contrasting your information and knowledge with his, mentally. Johnny seemed to be the most interested, having in mind Gyro was the one that pulled the subject out of you. His blond eyebrows pinched together in disbelief as he looked at either tips of his middle fingers. He had his hands in front of his chest, trying to visualize his height but too hesitant to extend his arms in fear of looking ridiculous.

“Johnny, how tall are you?” His eyes moved to look at you now.

“About 5’4”.” You stopped to do the math in your head for a second.

“So that’s like… 1’62m.” You stood and moved closer to him. “Stand—, well… Can you… get on your knees?” You extended your arms as aid as you knelt before him. “Doing it while sitting in your lap might be kinda awkward…” You laughed.

His gaze darted between your eyes and your palms, indecisive on what to do. Eventually, he placed his hands in yours and prompted himself on his knees clumsily with your help. Without any speaking, and since you were already holding hands, you stretched both of your arms as far as you could, guiding him to do the same. Your hands loosened the grip so they could press palm to palm. The tip of your fingers grazed the length of his digits, stopping just right where your fingerprints matched perfectly. You moved closer, aligning your chest closer to him, positioning your bodies as flushed as you could to get an accurate measurement. You watched your hand carefully, and just like you predicted, your calculus was correct: he fitted perfectly into you, and so did the rest of his body.

“See? The same height!” You announced enthusiastically, turning your face to look at him as you said it. The unexpected closeness to his face caught both of you by surprise; you had never been this close of a distance to Johnny before, only Gyro. After a few seconds that felt like eternity, you composed yourself enough to stand back up and turn to the other man. Johnny sat down on his feet again, choosing to ignore how he had caught your eyes sneaking a glance at his lips, and how he had done the same to yours.

“Your turn.” You demanded, signaling to the other blonde to stand up as well with a flick of your hand. He raised his eyebrows with a huff.

“Why? Are you trying to get all close to me too for something?”

“For science, dumbass.” You popped your hip to the side. “Or are you nervous to be close to me now?” A smug smile curved at your lips as your chin tilted upwards slightly, looking down at him.

“If I have done it, you have to do it too, Gyro.” Johnny added before the silence got any longer. “Since you’re also taller than her.” Gyro’s eyes darted between you and Johnny behind your back before he sighed in defeat and stood up in front of you.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” He mumbled, taking your hands in his after you stretched them out. “You better not get distracted with anything else, pigtails.”

“Speak for yourself, Zeppeli.” You barked back to his ‘advice’. He sniffed out a laugh as a response, immediately growing quiet the second you actually started to get closer to him. He watched carefully how you guided his arms to be extended, your hands never leaving the palm of his. As you adjusted the tips of your middle fingers to match, you commented without lifting your eyes. “Your hands are bigger than mine. And really soft for a man like you.” He didn’t know how to interpret the tone of your voice with which you had said the last observation.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess...” Gyro didn’t have much time to react when you got closer to his chest. The top of your head rested just underneath his nose. He had to tilt his head backwards lightly in order for his lips not to brush your forehead. In a way to distract himself from the way you had made his breath get caught all up in his throat, he decided to scan the horizon from over you, his eyes inevitably meeting with Johnny. He took the time to appreciate how he didn’t seem to take his blue eyes off of you; whether it was out of interest in your teaching or something else, Gyro didn’t know. His eyes left Johnny the second he noticed him moving his up to exchange looks, which also happened to be right when you decided to speak again. “See? We don’t match. Stand still.” As if he hadn’t been doing it all this time trying to focus his mind on something else so you weren’t about to feel more than just how soft his hands were…

You finally backed away, but your hand still marked the distance where your arm span finished, fingers barely by his wrist. You then measured it with and compared it to the height difference between the two of you. “Once again, the proportion's proven correct.”

“That’s actually so interesting." Johnny admitted.

“And it’s not the only thing!” You continued your ranting as you sat back down, your full attention directed to him entirely. “Average adults are roughly 7.5 to 8 heads tall, your waist is commonly twice the circumference of your neck, and the length from the ankle to the knee is about the same as your femur.” You recalled every one of them while pointing and directing with your fingers over your own body enthusiastically. “Oh! And another cool one is that your foot is the same length as your forearm. Try it!” Johnny became sceptical for a second, but grabbed one of his legs and pressed his foot to his arm, doing as you said nonetheless. His expression turned to immediate shock the moment it fit perfectly like a missing puzzle piece.

“Holy shit! You’re right!” He exclaimed, placing his leg back down. “This is fascinating…!”

“Right?!” You practically bounced with excitement at the fact of being able to geek about this to someone and them being actively listening. “And it doesn’t stop there. The face also has some interesting proportions and rules. Hold on a sec!” You became frantic to fetch your notebook and a pencil. “So, the way I was taught how to draw a face, proportion wise, is by dividing it into seven parts.” You recalled as you sketched. “From these, we ditch the top one; that’s where the hairline usually starts. The other six we group into two so there’s three of them. Bottom one is where the nose starts, the second is about eyebrow level, and the third one is the forehead, mostly.” You placed down your notebook for a moment. “A visual aid it’s your knuckles.”

“Your knuckles?” Johnny questioned. “How?”

“Proportionately, if you close your hand into a fist, you knuckles fit perfectly from the chin to right under your nose…” You turned slightly so he could see it from a profile view and pressed them gently to your face. Johnny examined his fist before following your ushering to try it himself. You turned to your other side, catching Gyro testing it too. You dragged yourself backwards on the floor to create more like a circle before continuing with the explanation. “… now from the nose to your eyebrows.” Using your free hand, you pulled back your fringe. “ And last one, right from the brows to the hairline.” You finished, brushing your top knuckle where your hair started.

Your companions followed your steps, perplexed at the accuracy. “This is so interesting…” Johnny murmured. ”Is there any more?”

“Oh! There’re a lot more!” You went to take your notebook again to draw them out, but stopped right as you picked it up. In a thought, your eyes flickered to Gyro, caught by surprise.

”What are you looking at me for?” He became defensive.

“You’ll be my showing-dummy.” You announced, already decided.

”And why do you think I’ll accept to be?” Gyro backed off from your reach.

“It will be easier to demonstrate. You have a very proportionate face.” You commented, hoping the compliment was enough for him to cave. Seeing it wasn’t, you added to kick at his ego from another side. “And I thought you wanted to know how I was a ‘master’ in the Spin without training.” With that, he finally accepted. Gyro moved to sit closer to you and you went back into teaching. You pointed out what you explained before about the knuckles using the backside of the pencil. So that’s how the face divides horizontally, but if you look closely, you can also see some way to part it vertically.”

You gave Johnny a second to analyze Gyro’s face to try and figure out before you revealed it. “The key here is in the eyes.” You picked up the notebook and did some quick doodling as you explained. “ To determine where the eyes are positioned, we have already used the ‘parting’ method. Now, to place them in that area, it’s usually half an ‘eye’ measurement by each side of the face, right between the end of the hair on the side and the actual eye. Then, it’s of course an eye, and between each of them, it’s also about another eye measurement.” You lifted up your pencil once you were done with the drawn explanation and pointed it towards Gyro. “Face forward.” You commanded, moving his face from his jaw in Johnny’s direction. “Can you see it?” You asked, as you marked the divisions faintly, ghosting your graphite tool over Gyro’s skin.

“Oh, yeah! Wow, Gyro! you do have a very proportional face! I hadn’t noticed before.” Johnny complimented without a second thought, coming out genuine even if his tone was bland.

“Shut up, Johnny…”

“Furthermore,” you interrupted the man’s groaning. “The distance between the end of the eyes, usually marks the beginning of the nose.” You traced an invisible line down to the side of his nostril. “Althought that varies between different ethnicities and races.”

You were too focused to notice, and maybe the light casted by the firepit in his face —now that you had forced him to look straight forward—, was camouflaging it, but Gyro’s face was getting warmer. He was still puzzled about if it was because of how close you were, how you handled him without seemingly caring one bit, or because of the way your voice had dropped an octave as it grew serious and calculated like that of a teacher, —and he found it really sexy. Nevertheless, the truth was he was flustered and very much cornered. Thankfully, you either were too focused or oblivious to notice, —or maybe both— so you just kept on explaining without commenting on it.

“Another thing the eyes dictate is, if you trace a line from the middle of it downwards through the cheek, it marks where the corners of the mouth end.” You stopped your pencil next to his lips, seeing them twitch slightly. It was at that moment he realized his cool had been lost. The second your eyes lifted to stare at him without a clue behind them, he felt his throat clench with a gulp. But the feeling got worse the second you caught on to how his whole body tensed holding his breath and you examined his face. “Are you blushing?” A quick eyebrow rose to a questioning angle, then he could sense your expression shifting to teasing, so he acted quick.

“NO?! Do you expect me not to grow hot on the face after you made me turn and stare into an open flame for so long, asshole?” You had to admit it. Gyro was quick on his feet when it came to making up excuses.

“Oh…” It was now after his complaint that you had noticed it. “I’m sorry then.”

“Yeah, ‘sorry’.” Gyro growled in annoyance as he pushed himself back to his bedroll. Before it grew awkward, you picked up your things and dusted your pants.

”Well, that’s all I know. If that made me do a perfect golden ratio with rotation I don’t know, but I don’t hide anything else under my sleeves.” You shrugged and went to your sleeping bag by walking behind the Italian. Johnny sat in silence, taking in all of your teaching, Gyro on the other hand, still felt something was off.

“As if I believe you.” You snapped your eyes to his silhouette from across the fire without turning your face, now leg deep into your bedroll. “I still think you’re hiding something from us.”

“Well, I’m not.” He scoffed at your disagreement. “But if you need to see it in action, I guess I can draw Johnny another day.” His posture stiffened for some reason. Maybe shocked out of jealousy.

“Wait. Why Johnny and not me?” You could hear a subtle mumble coming from the other blond’s mouth saying something along the lines of ‘wait, what’s wrong with her drawing me, tho?’ when you barked back a comment through your teeth but still loud enough for him to hear it.

“Because I refuse to draw a man that sleeps with his boots on…” You turned around and showed your back in an attempt to masquerade the sass, —and escape the consequences.

”HUH!?!? Hey! Don’t turn around now! I heard you!” You looked back just enough over your shoulder. “It was only one time and because I was exhausted!”

“Exhausted of what? Being annoying?” You turned back, intended to sleep. “Besides, ‘one time’ is enough for it to be weird— OW!” You flipped on your back to see what was the thing that had been thrown straight to the back of your head. It was at that moment you saw it was his shoe, Gyro standing flamingo-style, half proud, half furious, smirking at you. “My point still stands…” You sat, picking up the boot. You lifted it as if you were going to hand it back to him but flicked it towards the forest before he could get a grip of it. “Go fetch it.”

Gyro paused to look at it, then turned to you and bared his teeth in disgust. “I fucking hate you.” You just smiled in accomplishment.

“I bet you do.” Your smugness carried through as you watched Gyro walk to retrieve his missing shoe, struggling not to get his sock too dirty in the process. Satisfied, you tucked yourself back to sleep. “Good night, Johnny.”

”Good night, Rosemary.” He said back from his bedroll as well.

Eventually, Gyro came back and passed by your side but not without kicking you slightly. Nothing hard, just enough to make you uncomfortable. After that, he sat down on his chosen place started doing the first nightwatch for tonight.