Chapter Text
Hazel balanced a tray of dirty dishes against her hip as she made her way towards the back of the New York café. She disposed of the tray’s contents in a big bin next to the kitchen and leaned back against the counter, wiping her tired hands against her apron.
Frank flashed her a sympathetic look from his spot at the host’s station. Fridays and Saturdays were some of their busiest days. The café hosted live music on those days, and people always came flooding in from God-knew-where to listen. Quite honestly, some of the musicians were rather awful. Hazel wasn’t one for judging others, but every fibbed chord on a borrowed guitar made her cringe just a little.
But the girl on stage wasn’t half bad. She wasn’t bad, period. She had clearly been singing a long time, and her voice was rich and confident. Her fingers strummed the guitar expertly, hitting every chord dead-on. She was performing some kind of convoluted love song, emphasizing every time she sang the word ‘baby’. Hazel approved.
Hazel’s gaze swept to her green poster on the front window. She didn’t have to look at it to know what it read – she’d spent so long trying to get the wording just right. LOOKING FOR ROOMMATE. 18+. Description of the apartment. Long list of requirements. MUST BE ABLE TO PAY RENT. The last part was underlined.
Hazel’s manager flashed her an annoyed look from the kitchens, and Hazel hopped back into action, snapping out of her thoughts. She grabbed her pen from behind her ear and approached a couple settling down in her section.
“Hello, how may I help you,” she asked, taking out her notepad. She had to speak louder than usual to be heard over the music. Hazel tried to keep a smile on her face as she made her obligatory spiel on the day’s special, but it was futile – her late-night practices and lack of sleep were starting to catch up with her, and she was finding it harder and harder to act cheery to the customers.
The woman, who sported wide bangs and many-ringed fingers, ordered a black coffee. Her partner, a man dressed in slacks and a collared shirt, wanted a latte (extra cream). Hazel was about to turn away when the man said, “Man, this place has a nice atmosphere going for it.”
Hazel forced another smile. “You betcha.”
“Good entertainment.” The woman rolled her eyes like ‘not again’ but smiled softly, and Hazel felt like she was missing out on some sort of joke. She spread her smile even wider and nodded.
The man chuckled. He pointed revealingly to the front of the restaurant. “The singer’s my sister.”
Hazel’s eyes followed his outstretched finger to the girl on stage. The colored lights were blinding, and she couldn’t really make out her features, but Hazel didn’t think she looked… similar to the man in front of her. But it wasn’t implausible – Hazel herself didn’t look much like her brother, either. The singer had her eyes closed and seemed too comfortable in front of the blinding lights. Hazel was jealous of her demeanor – how could someone look so at home on stage?
“Well, she’s really talented,” Hazel confessed. She fiddled with her notepad, worried about keeping other tables waiting, wondering when she would be let off the hook.
The man grinned proudly. “She really is.” He didn’t say anything else, and Hazel took it as her cue to leave.
As she placed the order at the kitchen, Hazel found her eyes wandering back to the stage. The musician had left the guitar hanging from her shoulder, and was leaning into the microphone, holding it close. Hazel thought the whole restaurant seemed full of her deep voice.
Hazel’s manager behind the counter snapped his fingers in her face, and Hazel jumped and recoiled. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he ignored her, working away at the cappuccino machine.
Hazel couldn’t wait to save up enough to be able to quit this job.
She continued her shift, humming softly along to the songs she recognized. It wasn’t exactly her genre, but she liked it – it was fun. Very rock. Very… loud.
The singer’s brother stayed the entirety of Sadie’s set. (Hazel had overheard her name when her brother ordered his third coffee of the night – Hazel didn’t think so much caffeine was particularly healthy, but more drinks meant a better tip, so she kept them coming.)
As Hazel’s shift approached its end, she found herself glancing at her watch, counting down the minutes. The crowds were clearing out, and Hazel went from table to table, picking up dirty mugs and wiping down every surface.
Sadie announced her last song: “And for the grand finale, how about we get some Prince up in here?” Sadie had an accent – was it British? It was unexpectedly cute.
Hazel kept looking towards the stage between helping her last customers and delivering drinks. Sadie bobbed her head along with her music, her hair bouncing up and down transfixingly, looking overjoyed just at sharing her music with an audience. In that moment, Hazel wished desperately to be in her shoes.
Sadie sang her final notes, then gave a sarcastic “Good night New York!” Her brother and his girlfriend, the only two left in the café, whooped and hollered. Sadie laughed breathily into the microphone and gave a final riff of her guitar. As she made her way off stage, Hazel felt heat rise in her face.
Not again.
Hazel seemed to get crushes on every female musician who entered the café doors. She really couldn’t help it – they were all so talented. And beautiful…
Sadie was no exception. Now that she was out from under the tinted lights, Hazel could see her hair was dyed with red streaks. Her stage makeup was smeared from the performance, and it was admittedly hot. As Hazel watched her pack up, their eyes met for a split second. Hazel turned away hastily, ashamed to have been staring. Or, more precisely, ashamed to have been caught.
Hazel spotted Frank straightening the menus, and hurried towards him, glad for some distraction. She quickly grabbed an armful of menus from the haphazard pile at his station and started stacking them.
Frank looked from her to something behind her back, and made an involuntarily smug expression.
Hazel hit him with a menu. Frank’s face broke into a grin. Hazel glared at him – sometimes, a look meant so much more than words. Frank was about to make a comment when he suddenly stopped and looked at something behind Hazel. Hazel gaze followed his, and she found herself face to face with Sadie, standing with her hands on her hips.
Sadie smiled conspiringly and leaned forward on the counter. “So,” she asked, “You work here often?”
It was a ridiculous question. Hazel’s gaze swept over the other girl, taking her in. She wore used black jeans and a leather jacket, and had piercings lined up along her left ear. Hazel found herself lingering on Sadie’s neck and snapped back to attention.
“Yeah, I’m here most – most week days. Also Saturdays, in the mornings...”
Sadie smirked. She read Hazel’s nametag attentively, focusing on each individual letter. “Maybe I’ll see you around, then, Hazel. I have a couple other gigs booked over the months to come...”
Sadie looked over her shoulder and saw her brother shrugging on his jacket. “Sadie, we’re heading out now!” Sadie flashed Hazel a last smile and said, “I’m Sadie. See you around,” before turning on her heel. She picked up her guitar on her way past a table. Her brother wrapped his arm around her shoulders on their way out the door, and Hazel found herself staring after them. The little bell above the doorframe was still ringing when Frank cleared his throat.
Hazel thought he would tease her, but instead he said, “So, are we still up for frozen yogurt Sunday?”
Hazel tried and failed to sound nonchalant. “Yeah, definitely.” She finished piling her menus and put them on the shelf next to Frank’s. He waited for her, then took the lead as they headed to the break room to retrieve their stuff.
Hazel took off her apron and hung it on one of the hooks lined on the wall. She opened her locker and took out her backpack, checking for her phone, keys and wallet – she always did now, after Leo, their kitchen aid, had played a not-very-funny trick on her last month.
Hazel wondered what she usually wondered after meeting a cute girl. Where do we go from here? Hazel was good at the getting crushes part and not much of anything else. Most times, she would just let it drop, but Sadie had seemed… interested. And gay. Sadie had seemed interested and gay, and that was the farthest Hazel had gotten with any of the restaurant’s musicians as of late.
The night was cold when Hazel stepped out of the building for the first time since her lunch break. She took in a lungful of air and gave Frank a wave as they parted ways. He headed for his car – the lucky guy – and Hazel crossed the street to the bus stop. She took out her phone and earbuds and searched up a rock playlist. Hazel tapped her foot against the sidewalk and fiddled with a coil of hair until the bus pulled up in front of her.
The fluorescent lights hurt Hazel’s eyes as she made her way up the aisle. She found a seat near the middle and leaned against the window. As the music played in her earphones, she pictured Sadie still on stage, singing them. Was that normal?
Maybe when she got home, Hazel would try something different with her music. She’d practice her piano technique first, then pick up her bass… She could probably stay up late again – tomorrow was just a half work day.
When she opened the door to her apartment, Hazel’s head was full of music. She went to the bathroom and washed her face, then settled onto her piano bench.