Return To Happiness

One of the ladies from the kitchen nudged me away from the cash “I got this”, and another lady quickly took over at the grill. Lady at the cash was… Tamil? Maybe? The lady at the grill was Nepalese. They chatted with the Sikh man, told him what food options met his dietary/religious constraints, and reassured him that the food was made properly. He left feeling happy and welcome in my city.

You and Cami find each other behind the restaurant. You vape in hand, her with a cigarette. She says nothing when she lights up, leaning against the stone wall of the restaurant. You lean against the dumpster and try to make yourself small. The silence before the storm of service-- you both savor it, despite the fact she doesn't even fucking work here. No, Cami comes to watch the shitshow and add fuel to the fire.

The back door swings open and Bakugo steps out. He's a dream, blonde hair slicked back with sweat, white shirt dotted with sweat.

"Yo- family dinner's in the back." He nods to Cami, then finally, tragically looks your way. He nods, casual, nonchalant-- neither of you are trying to poke the bear.

"There's a special one for you to the side."

"Nice." You try not the smile, but it happens anyway. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

On cue, Cami sighs, much too vocal to be natural. She waits a moment, then does it again-- then again. Bakugo tries to walk away, but with every grumble he slows, until he's turning back around with a groan.

"What, Cams? What is it?"

"Nothing." She looks away, mouth screwed into a little pout. It's unfortunately cute, something she pulls off naturally well.She holds her cigarette between two lithe fingers, twirling and twisting it in clear demonstrations of thought.

"Jesus fucking Christ-- what?"

It's awful how beautiful she is, how even her sneer is stunning.

"You didn't cook me anything special," She brushes her hair over her shoulder. "You never make anything for your own fiance."

Fiance. God, that word stings a bit. His grandmother's ring sits on her finger, shined to a perfect glimmer.

"Are you fucking--? I made you dinner last Sunday and you didn't even fucking eat it."

"Oh, but you said it was dinner. Just dinner. It wasn't-" She glowers at you. "'Special.'"

"Do I have to label everything fucking special for you? Is that it? Cami needs to feel special?"

"No, you just have to stop calling the things you make for other girls special."

"She has food restrictions, you absolute psycho." Bakugo groans as he leans over himself, hands on his hips like he's about to vomit. "You're giving me an ulcer. I make dinner for my whole fucking staff-"

"So, I'm not as important as your staff? Really?"

"Cami, what the fuck is wrong with you?" The vein in his neck is thick with anger, "You need to get a fucking therapist, I swear to god-"

"Go fuck yourself, Katsuki." She's screaming now, voice to high and cracked that you jump at the sound. "I hope you fucking choke and die."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He sucks in air through his teeth. "Starve, I don't give a fuck."

"You-" Cami starts, but is quickly cut off.

"I don't give a fuck!" Bakugo breaks. He's screaming too now. "I don't give a single fuck, Cami!"

Before he turns, he looks your way one more time, and you swear he looks sad. Then, the door slams behind him.

"You know he goes home and fucks my brains out after we fight like this, right?"

It takes you a second to process that Cami's talking to you.

"Excuse me?"

"It's foreplay." She takes a long drag, then breathes out all at once. It's halfway done, but she drops the cigarette to the ground and lets it smolder. The ember burns crimson against the macadam. "He yells and screams and then fucks my brains out all night."

Hearing it hurts, but this isn't new information. He loves her enough for a ring-- you never thought you'd be competition to that. Her eyes narrow when you don't respond. "You think you're winning with this nice girl act, don't you?"

She leans against the wall again, arms crossed with a smug satisfaction. "Well, he doesn't like nice girls, he likes cunts like me."

You walk back towards the restaurant, then stop just in front of her, chin tilted high. She doesn't blink, doesn't flinch, not even when you bend over and pick up her cigarette butt. In a smooth motion, you smush it against the wall beside her, extinguishing the flame before tossing it into the make shift ashtray beside her.