Chapter Text
When I was just a little kid they told me to dream big.
You can do anything. When I got older they told me to stop dreaming.
Start being more realistic, make the coffee, do the dishes, but I can’t seem to keep my head out of the clouds.
‘Cause what’s the point of living life to work until I die? That can’t be it and if it is then I want out.
And honestly I never had a dream of getting older but here I am.
What can I do about it? Tell me what to do about it.
-Bill Collector’s Theme Song, Apes of the State
The town of Brendok, Virginia died in the summers.
Well, not really, but like most other towns centered around a major university, about three quarters of the population did leave after graduation weekend. May lay heavy on the town nestled in its small valley like frosting on a cinnamon roll, the syrupy-sweet heat melting between the buildings and running through the streets. The buses ran less frequently, leaving Mae Aniseya to walk the half mile from the apartment she shared with her sister Osha and their small dog of mysterious lineage Pip, to her job at the town’s diner.
It wasn’t too bad, at least if she worked the opening shift. She could avoid the heat of the sun, amplified by the weighty humidity of Appalachia. Even in the early morning hours, it curled around Mae with sticky fingers, causing her uniform shirt to cling to her skin. It was her third day in a row wearing it and she scowled at a small oil stain on the breast pocket below her name tag. Laundry day wasn’t until tomorrow and some kid had thrown chocolate milk at her earlier in the week, leaving her one other work shirt unwearable until it could be properly laundered. The smell of sour milk and Hershey syrup had clung to her for a solid 24 hours after the incident. Osha had laughed as Pip licked her that night, searching out any remaining sweetness even after Mae had sat in the shower until the water ran cold.
She kicked at a rock on the sidewalk, scrolling through the music downloaded to her phone. Her fingertips caught on the crack that ran through the screen as she selected her favorite song, an aggressive riot grrrl anthem that would help her wake up a bit, at least until she could grab a cup of coffee. The sun just crested over the blue mist of the mountains that cupped the town like a set of hands, the cicadas quieting from their nighttime serenade. Mae sighed. If only she had the time to appreciate her surroundings more, go for a hike or a picnic like a typical college-aged kid. Unfortunately, the gavel of rent hung over her head, so work took precedence.
Sure there were better jobs out there for someone like Mae than the diner. The ink had barely dried on the diploma tucked onto her bookshelf. The keynote speaker at their graduation ceremony had promised the sisters and their classmates that they were destined for great things. With their new proof of accomplishment, they could do anything they wanted to. Go anywhere. Be whoever they wanted to be. Osha and Mae had rolled their eyes at each other during that part of the speech. If only life was that straightforward.
At least Osha had prospects. Mae tried her best not to let that bitter edge of herself show to her sister. When she’d come home one day practically dancing with joy that she'd been accepted with one of the school’s competitive entomology labs for the summer, Mae had jumped in circles too, screaming with pride. Osha had always been the more book smart one anyway, and her Environmental Science degree with a focus on public education had better job prospects than Mae’s own psychology degree. Where they went at the end of the summer depended entirely on Osha, Mae was happy enough to just get by.
Hence, the diner. Mae stifled a yawn and pulled her earbuds from her ears, stuffing the cord and her phone into her pockets before pushing open the heavy back door to the restaurant. Immediately, a wave of greasy, hot air hit her, carrying the smells of coffee and bacon. She breathed in deeply, carefully applying the pleasant, reliable mask of her work personality.
“Clocking in!” She yelled over the clatter of utensils in the adjoining kitchen, keying in the 4 digits of her employee ID into the grimey keypad in the office.
“Thank the Lord” came the gravelly voice of Koril, the Brendok Diner’s owner, hostess, janitor, and sometimes cook. Mae took in her boss's disheveled appearance as she grabbed an apron from a hook on the wall.
“Rough morning?” She asked, eying the smear of pancake batter on Koril’s oversized white apron and holding back a smile.
“You can fuckin say that again..” The older woman muttered, pulling a slim pack of cigarettes from her back pocket. “Toss me my light.”
Mae grabbed the red lighter from Koril’s desk and tossed it to her. Despite her gruff demeanor, Mae had a soft spot for her. A worn, thin woman in her late-40’s, she’d insisted that Mae call her Mama Koril from day one.
“I always wanted a kid” She’d said, smiling with nicotine-stained teeth at the girl who’d answered her Craigslist ad for a waitress three years prior. Her chunky-highlighted hair was always curled out in hornlike spikes and she never went anywhere without a pack of Virginia Slims, but she really did care for her employees.
“That sumbitch” she fussed, kicking open the back door and propping it open with a half cinder block. “See this is why I need to start askin’ for references.” Smoke curled around her head as she cupped a hand around her cigarette to light it, the effect nearly demonic.
“New guy a no show?” Mae asked.
“What’s it look like?” Koril spun in a circle, her arms wide like some sort of trailer trash Mary Poppins. “Now I gotta run line. Sorry, darlin, the floor’s yours until 11.”
“I’ll manage." Mae smiled halfheartedly. With the students out for the summer, the diner would probably not get too busy anyway. Summers were always slow. Graduation had also meant the departure of their previous line cook, a vacancy that Koril had filled as quickly as possible, hiring the first person to respond to the ad.
She’d have to fill Mae’s job too, come August. The guilt ate at her stomach like the coffee she set to brew as she took down the chairs that spent the nights flipped up over their tables. The old machine gurgled infirmly, dispensing the bitter elixir into twin glass carafes- orange for decaf, black for regular. Mae poured herself a mug of the black, dumping in a nearly obscene amount of sugar from one of the metal-topped glass shakers on the counter.
A knock at the front window jarred her as she was peeling back the foil lid of a cup of creamer, causing the milk-like fluid to splash just shy of her mug and onto the counter.
“Fuck!” She hastily wiped at the spill with a bar rag, glancing up to see what had startled her.
A tall man stood hunched at the front door, his hands cupped against the glass to peer in, shadowing his face. Regardless, she didn’t recognize him as a regular and they knew the hours of the diner anyway.
“We open in 15!” She yelled, pointing at the sign not six inches from the man’s face. “People don’t fucking read any more” she huffed to herself.
“I can see that!” The man yelled back. “I’m looking for someone named Ko-reel?” He pronounced the diner owner’s name with a hard first syllable. Mae flinched, accustomed to the woman’s derisive response to such a slight.
Sighing loudly and reluctantly sidelining her coffee, she turned to the order window.
“Koril! You have a gentleman caller at the front!” she hollered to where her boss rummaged through the office.
“A gentleman caller! What a surprise! Is he handsome?” Koril bustled out, her own coffee cup clutched tightly in one hand, the grip deft despite her long acrylic nails.
“I’ll let you decide.” Mae smirked, ignoring like usual the wafting smell of Bailey’s that emanated from the mug shoved into her hands.
“I swear if it’s that useless fucking kid…” the older woman fussed as she hurried forward.
Leaning on the counter, Mae held her warm white ceramic mug in both hands, blowing ripples across the surface of her too-hot drink and watching as Koril fought with the perpetually uncooperative front door to admit the stranger.
He was young, probably just older than herself, with a somewhat lanky build. Thin, but in a muscled way. His toned arms displayed a patchwork collection of mismatched tattoos, some faded, some newer, like the stamps of a passport. He walked in with a confidence that disregarded his status as a stranger to the place.
“Alright, what’s your story?” Koril asked, eying the man’s faded black t-shirt and patched jeans warily. A black backpack was swung over one of his shoulders, the bag laden with patches, many of which were sewn on with what appeared to be dental floss.
“Miss Ko-reel?” He extended a hand.
“Koril” she corrected, her grip tighter than strictly necessary. She wore the smile that she reserved for particularly unruly customers. Polite, but still threatening.
“Ah, my bad. Koril. I’m sorry for my tardiness but I’m Qimir, you said today would be my first day?” A cheeky smile crept across his face.
The man had balls, Mae could admit that much. She supposed with a face like his, he could probably charm his way into or out of anything. He had the severe handsomeness not uncommon in high-fashion models or actors- features just a little too sharp to classify as conventionally attractive, yet somehow alluring in their own bizarre way. His shaggy black hair fell around his meat cleaver cheekbones and slightly longer in the back, the scruff of a beard dusting his square jaw in what seemed to be a purposeful way rather than by negligence. Hair grew thicker along his upper lip and at his chin. She quickly looked back down into the depths of her coffee, hoping he hadn’t noticed her appraisal, the drink the same half-creamed color of his skin.
Koril scolded “Shift started at 5 I told you that on our call” She crossed her arms, popping a hip.
“My ride fell through, alright? Cut me some slack. Then I thought I could catch a bus but I accidentally got on one that was going the wrong way and I ended up needing to walk.” Qimir explained, a plaintive expression replacing the cocky smile he’d arrived with.
“Could have called.” Mae said, scoffing at his errors.
“Look, I’m out of minutes for the month. Gotta work to live to work, eh?” He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Well fuck, just try not to make a habit of it. You’re lucky we’re short staffed to begin with.” Koril pinched the bridge of her nose. “Let’s get you set up.”
“Yes ma’am” he chirped, every picture the southern gentleman despite his rough around the edges appearances.
“This is Mae, she’s usually working front of house” Koril turned and gestured broadly to her employee who gave a small finger-wave, squinting her eyes. Following behind his new boss, Qimir smiled at her.
“I do know how to read, by the way” he whispered loudly as he passed. His breath smelled of spearmint. Mae made a face at him, her cheeks hot with.. what? Embarrassment? Attraction? She took a scorching sip of coffee and winced at the burn. She’d think more about it later if she remembered after her shift. Walking around the counter, she leaned into each booth to raise the shades, allowing the morning light to fall upon the cracked pleather benches and melamine tabletops.
From the kitchen, she could hear Koril explaining the basics of the diner's menu and ticket system. Through the narrow serving window, she could see that the new guy had tied back his hair into a sort of half-up little ponytail. He watched Koril with a determined focus that complimented his features, eyes like black marbles.
‘ Don’t do this to yourself again Mae ' she told herself. There wasn’t time to be involved with anyone before summer was out. Besides, workplace dating was never a good idea. Not to mention, for all his edgy attractiveness, Qimir seemed like trouble.
Problem was, Mae liked a little trouble
With a rallying breath, she flicked on the neon light at the front window that proclaimed the diner open and felt a long the door jamb for the allen key to unlock the door. A couple regulars were already stepping out of their cars and migrating across the parking lot for their morning coffee and gossip.
So began another day.
***
Osha awoke to a wet tongue in her ear.
“Pip… fuck off” she grumbled, pulling a pillow over her head as protection from the onslaught of saliva. The small dog was however undeterred, instead pouncing on her like a fox on a particularly juicy stoat.
“Fuck! Alright, alright. Getting up.” She sat up, squinting at the bright light. A quick glance at her phone told her it was quarter to nine, a bit earlier than she’d intended but at least it wasn’t the asscrack of dawn. That was Mae’s domain. She'd always been the early riser of the two.
Luckily, Osha didn’t have many plans for the day, so the later morning didn’t mean much. She even had time to swing by the diner and convince Mae to slip her a cinnamon roll.
Osha was grateful to her sister for everything she did for them. Since their mother’s unexpected death three years prior, Mae had worked long hours to ensure they’d have a roof over their head and food on the table while they finished out school. Osha had volunteered on countless occasions to get a job too to contribute, but her sister had always brushed her off.
“It’s your job to get the good grades and a kickass job after graduation to take care of my sorry ass when we get out of here.” She’d always joke, usually over a shared bottle of 7-11 moscato.
A hint of guilt nagged at her for accepting the position as a research assistant under Professor Sol, delaying their grand plan until at least fall, especially since it didn’t pay particularly well, but it was easily overshadowed by her excitement. Sol was the most widely published lab lead in the entire entomology department and was well-known for being exceptionally selective with his RA’s. Despite her straight A grades, she’d been unsure if she even had a chance at the job. Being chosen was a dream come true. The experience, the possibility of a recommendation… it opened so many doors for her. She had a meeting later that afternoon to learn more about the project she’d be assigned to.
Picking a knee-length pleated skirt and a flowy near-sheer blouse from her pile of laundry, she got dressed, layering a white camisole beneath the shirt for modesty. With a glance in the mirror, she did a once-over. Cute, but professional. She nodded, pulling on a pair of ballet flats and grabbing her small purse from the back of a chair. Snapping a quick selfie, she sent the picture out as her morning Snapchat message with the caption ‘First day of work streaks!’.
“You be good” she scratched Pip under his chin as she left.
The sun was fully risen, baking away the last whiffs of morning mist into a souplike humidity. Immediately, Osha began to sweat as she made her way to the diner. Heat radiated from the asphalt, warming the bottoms of her feet as she crossed a road. Traffic had slowed to nearly nothing without the bustle of the semester. Osha liked the calm that summers in Brendok held. Campus felt empty in an anticipatory way- like a concert hall during sound check. Grass on the quad could grow untrampled by boys playing spikeball or sunbathing sorority girls. The buildings could rest vacant, their halls and classrooms relieved of their occupancy. It was beautiful in a somber sense, resting with potential energy like a graveyard. Bells jingled as she pushed open the front door to the diner, making sure to give it an extra hard shove halfway where the hinges tended to stick.
“Osha! Finally going to let me put you on payroll?” Mama Koril crowed, flashing a smile to one of her favorite customers as she topped off someone’s coffee.
“Not today” she smiled back, sliding into her favorite stool at the end of the counter. “Did Mae tell you about the research gig I got?”
“You bet” Koril slid a fresh mug of coffee before her. “I’m so proud of you girls. Want your usual?”
“Yes please.” Osha wrapped her hands around the mug. “Where is Mae anyway?”
“Probably back there flirting with the new kid on the grill” Koril whispered conspiratorially.
“I can hear you!” A voice yelled from the kitchen, followed by a loud clanking noise like metal bowls.
Mae burst through the swinging doors, looking frazzled.
“Koril, he’s going to be the death of me.” she hissed, dabbing at a fresh stain down the front of her white uniform shirt with a rag. “ I swear to fucking God, if I don’t kill him first.”
“Language, Mae! No murder, please, I don’t wanna hire any more new people.”
“Thank you, Miss Koril, I’d rather not die either!” came a jovial voice through the window that gave access to the kitchen.
Osha laughed despite herself. The man on the other side seemed at least to be good-humored. She could only see a sliver of him through the narrow gap, but he seemed young and fit.
“I’ll be damned, there’s two of them.” he said, leaning to peer through at Osha and Mae.
“Qimir, Osha. Osha, Qimir.” Mae said as means of introduction, gesturing with the dusty rag. “She’s my twin but somehow you’re both pains in my ass. Should get along swimmingly.”
“Mae!” Koril admonished with a smile. “Qimir, could you grab her a cinnamon roll?”
“One sugar bomb for the sweetheart, coming right up” he smirked, ducking back into the kitchen. Distantly, Osha heard the sounds of the microwave whirring to life.
“He seems fun," She said, tearing open a creamer for her coffee.
“He’s a menace.” Mae scowled.
“Be that as it may, he can make an omelet without shells which, if I may remind you, is beyond your capacity my dear. “ Koril smiled. “That’s why you’re on front of house. If you’re looking for something to do, Mr. Swift looks like he needs a refill on that grapefruit juice. That should keep you occupied for at least 20 minutes” She nodded to a geriatric man in one of the booths. Mae fought back a groan, but filled a fresh glass and plastered on her best customer-service smile.
“That’s why she’s the best.” Her boss confided to Osha. The old man had begun a familiar rant regarding his time serving in the Army many decades prior, his words blurred at the edges like an old photograph. “Are you sure you girls have to leave at the end of the summer?”
“We’ll see, Mama Koril. I have my first meeting with the lab today.” The bell at the window rang with a merry ding.
“Cinnamon roll for Mae 2.0” Qimir said, his grin all teeth and promises. He had a handsome face, with dark hair pulled back in a small tuft at the back of his head. A few strands fell in his eyes and he winked roguishly.
“Thank you, dear” Koril brought the warm plate bearing the massive confection to where Osha sat. “Well eat up then, you’ll need it.” Osha beamed, taking a deep inhale of the pastry’s cinnamon-sugar aroma.
It was going to be a good day.