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The worst thing about working on a birthday is that it’s supposed to be a special day. Everyone always says that. Birthdays are for treats, getting to eat at favourite restaurants and having the most fun. Not for Tweek Tweak though. Birthdays were just like any other day of the week, just another day working at his parents coffee store with barely any acknowledgement of his existence, nevermind anything as trivial as the anniversary of his birth. So while other teenagers got to have a lie in on their birthdays, got presents and fun activities planned with their family and friends; Tweek got to wake up at the crack of dawn and serve entitled customers their morning brew. The joy!
This was exactly where the blonde found himself the very morning of his birthday, surrounded by the pungent smell of coffee beans that permeated from his every pore. He had grown accustomed to it now, but it meant that a lot of his classmates didn’t want to sit next to him, the aroma of coffee that exuded from his very being was almost, always overpowering. That and the infrequent spasms that he still suffered from. They seemed to bother most people and so they avoided close contact with him.
Not Craig though. Craig, the one person that he cared for most. His best friend, his boyfriend. He never seemed to mind the coffee scent or Tweek’s inconsistent twitching. The dark haired boy often called Tweek cute, like a guinea pig, he had once said; and knowing how much Craig loved Stripe, there was nothing for Tweek to do but take it as a compliment. He just wanted to spend one day together, the two of them. No distractions, no school or work or nosy parents. That was Tweek’s birthday wish. Even if he had no candles on a cake to blow out.
The Saturday morning rush had begun and Tweek’s feet were beginning to ache as he dashed from one corner of the counter to the other, attempting to take orders, brew and serve coffee and man the cash register. All of this running back and forth was beginning to make him dizzy, his whole world tilting on its axis with the rush of work. His parents refused to actually pay for a second employee to work there with him, and they were doing god-knows-what in the store room, so this left him with no choice but to fend for himself.
“Hey Tweek, your mom and I are going out to the grocery store. Got to get stuff ready for the celebration tonight.” His father poked his head out through the door marked Staff Only , with his usual plastered on smile that honestly gave Tweek the creeps.
“Ngh celebration?” Tweek’s hands wobbled in his distraction, almost scalding himself. The middle aged woman he was serving pointedly glaring at him for daring to spill her drink in the first place. He couldn’t help it, caught so completely off guard with disbelief that his parents had even remembered his birthday, let alone were actually planning something for it. It was a huge revelation.
“Come now Tweek, don’t be silly. You really don’t think we could have forgotten how important today is could you?!” His dad lightly chuckled, giving him a cheery wave before he turned back into the store room, calling something to his wife. Tweek stared after him, gobsmacked. He couldn’t believe it? They’d remembered? They had never done so before, his childhood nothing but a stream of forgotten and ignored birthdays. There had been many days where Tweek had sat alone at the family dining table, a store bought cupcake with a solitary candle stabbed into it. Those years he had wished for nothing more than his parents to have been there at his side. It was easy to drown out those memories, forget the day existed at all and belay it to nothing but a figment of his overactive imagination.
“Excuse me? Are you nearly finished?” The customer, who was still standing in front of him angry and coffee-less, tutted at him, her lips pursed up into a tight ring.
“Ngh sorry!” Tweek squeaked, remembering the mantra that had been drilled into him since he was young. The customer is always right . It didn’t matter if the customer was an asshole, or if their order was so overly complicated that it took Tweek twice as long to make, they were a lways right. It was this kind of thing that really caused Tweek to despise working in customer service. The woman shook her wavy blonde hair in dismissal, manicured nails tapping on the counter in impatience.
“Whatever.” She said in a short and rude tone as Tweek slid her cardboard cup of caffe macchiato across the counter. Naturally she left without a goodbye, or a thank you.
The blonde couldn’t breathe a sigh in relief for long, as the next customer was already stating their order without even a glimpse of a smile, or hello for that matter. Then there was another, and another and another. An endless stream of impatient, caffeine addicted and sometimes hostile people, to parade through their admittedly tired looking store.
The blonde tried to just do his job, desperately ignoring the circling vultures that just waited for him to make a mistake. Weaving their way through his mind and naturally increasing the panicked thoughts convulsing through his overworked brain. Had he given them the right size? Had he dispensed the correct change? Had he even made them the order they’d asked for? It was hard and demanding work. Especially as the line grew longer, and the more vocal and irate customers began to grumble. It didn’t matter that he was trying his best, or that the store was so obviously understaffed. They didn’t care that he was a teenage boy working his hardest with the shitty hand that he had been dealt all that mattered was that they were trying to break him, Tweek could feel it. Surely, it would only be a matter of time before they succeeded.
His hands shook with effort as he fumbled with outdated equipment that his far too stingy parents insisted still made the perfect brew. It did not, but it was pointless to argue with them. It took ages to heat up to the correct temperature, and even then it was off by a fair bit. If that wasn’t bad enough, there was also a pipe that sporadically leaked hot water in violent drips and it had a nasty habit of doing it when Tweek least expected it. It meant his overworked arms and hands were covered in painful looking burns and scabs which he cared for with brightly coloured band aids. People stared, and it left Tweek fairly self conscious about the most exposed parts of his body.
“Gah!” Tweek could not stifle his outburst as pain seared his flesh once more. He was rushing and that certainly didn’t help matters when there was a queue nearly out the store and his already waring nerves were completely fraying. He could feel the veritable anger directed towards him from the crowd behind, that clearly bayed for his blood.
That was of course, when things went from bad to worse. The sound that signified shitty things were about to come in South Park could be heard, loud and clear, within the small space the cafe took up. Cartman’s voice, in his most obnoxious tone.
“Jesus…who left the spaz in charge? No wonder it’s taking forever to get service around here.” The large boy joked, and to Tweek’s dismay, there were titters of laughter in agreement amongst the other customers in line.
“I’m not a...ngh, spaz.” The waver of his voice wasn’t lost, shaken by a concoction of exhaustion, stress and restrained anger. This lent credence to Cartman’s claims and he smiled victoriously at the thought of a new victim to bully.
“I…I..I’m … n..n..not .. a… ngh… sp..spaz.” Cartman put on a mocking tone, exaggerating a stutter in imitation of Tweek’s words. The blonde felt powerless. If he were at school, he’d be able to stand up for himself, he’d have Craig for support. No doubt Cartman would have been bowled over by a fist to his gut or face and a beautiful smiling boyfriend for his efforts. All Tweek had now was himself, the tide obviously turning against him as not one other customer stood up for him. The crowd’s implicit approval gave Cartman the confidence to continue, searching for anything and everything to ridicule. Everything was fair game apparently as the large boy laid into all he could think of. Tweek tried to ignore it, tried to continue manning the counter and ignore the painful barbs being sent his way over and over again. The customer was always right after all.
“What is going on son?” Tweek felt some relief flood through him at the sight of his parents return, boxes balanced in their hands and frowns on their faces.
“Ngh- just a little busy dad. There’s a queue and it’s just me.” Tweek replied pointedly, trying to convey how much he needed both his parents to stop what they were doing and get the fuck over here without explicitely saying so in front of the customers. He was more than desperate, his peace resting on the precarious balance of a knife’s edge.
“Well, get to it son. We have customers waiting. No more time for dallying. Your mom and I are busy.” He gestured to the box in his hands that looked like a compilation of festive decorations. Tweek’s heart rose and his spirits grew. Maybe earlier hadn’t been all talk, maybe they had actually taken notice of their sons’ birthday for the first time in years.
“Yes Tweek, we have a very important celebration to decorate for.” His mom gave him a conspiratorial wink, and Tweek could feel a small sliver of a smile spreading across his face. He still had the torturously long line of customers that were grumbling as he struggled through providing service, but maybe it would all be worth it by the end of the day when he could relax and revel in his birthday just once with his own parents.
“What celebration?” Tweek asked despite himself. Hope was a dangerous and disquieting thing to hold onto in this town, frail and war torn. He had to know though, he had to know that this wasn’t just his own wishful thinking, that what he had once wished for as a lonely child may actually come into fruition today. Even if it wasn’t the birthday wish he held today.
His parents however, both mirrored each other with twin expressions of disgust on their appalled faces. “What do you mean Tweek? How can you have forgotten? It’s our eleventh anniversary of this store being open!” Tweek’s stomach dropped, his body stuttered and he barely flinched as the speckling of hot water dropped onto his skin.
“Ngh.” Hope was a cruel emotion. Tweek realised that as much as he tried to crush it down, to smash it to smithereens, it could still splinter further, proving that there was still a part of him that hoped that something, one day, would change.
“Excuse me, this coffee tastes like shit.” Tweek turned to see Cartman standing to the left of the counter, a boiling cup of brown liquid wrapped in chubby hands. He must have been served while Tweek poured cup after cup on an autopilot while his mind drifted to his parents, and now apparently Cartman had found another thing he could use as ammunition to tear down Tweek for. He gleefully smiled in that malicious way that he often did as he took an exaggerated sip from his cup.
Tweek narrowed his eyes at the large boy. It was plainly obvious to anyone with half a brain cell and that knew the antics of Eric Cartman that he was just doing it to be an asshole in some pitiful attempt to try get him into trouble with his parents. As far as Tweek was even aware, Cartman didn’t even like coffee!
“Tweek! Rectify this customer’s order immediately. I apologise on my son’s behalf, can we get you a free cupcake?” Mr Tweak jumped into customer service mode straight away, willing to offer the glutinous boy the world to keep his shitty custom. As if they really needed to, Tweak Bro’s was the only coffee shop for miles.
Tweek gritted his teeth, his anger seething through his skin. He wanted to refuse, wanted to tell both Cartman and his father to get fucked and to screw the shitty job. He knew he couldn’t however, it would be him who paid for it in the end, and there was no way he was going to make his already crappy day worse by rising to Cartman's bait.
“Ngh.. fine.” Tweek managed, hands shaking as he prepared yet another coffee for a smirking Cartman, who clearly loved that he held the power here and that Mr Tweak would obviously take the customers’ side over his son.
The queue still wasn’t going down as quickly as Tweek would have liked, and people were clearly unhappy that his ineptitude had caused them to wait for their caffeinated beverages even longer. Somewhere in the line, a woman gave a loud and obvious huff that just annoyed Tweek. He felt like climbing over the counter and telling them all to make their own damn own coffee if it was that important to them, but he was pretty sure his parents would murder him and hide his body if he did. Or sell him off, he could never really tell with them.
“Make sure to do it right this time Tweekers. I know it’s hard with your spazzy hands. But even a retard could do your job.” Cartman gave a triumphant grin as he watched him like a cat preying on a mouse. Tweek could practically taste the eagerness with which Cartman watched him, rooting for him to fail again. The blonde’s father wasn’t providing much help, too busy packaging up a free cupcake in appeasement to listen to any harassment of his son. Mercifully, he managed not to scald himself again and presented Cartman with a new cup. His dad coughed to remind him to thank the customer for his custom which Tweek belligerently obeyed. A sigh of relief swept through him as the obese boy waddled off, on his way to torture a new victim most likely.
That was when Tweek’s saviour came through the door. A knight in the armour of a worn blue hoodie, jeans and a yellow bobbled chullo hat. His weapons of choice were his raised middle fingers, alongside his don’t-give-a-fuck expression that he wore permantly on his face like a mask. The disgruntled mutterings didn’t even appear to register with the dark haired boy as he sidled up to the front where Tweek attempted to not burn his fingers once more on the next customers order. The pressure was getting too much, he could feel the heavy beating of his heart and the way his hands trembled harder. He really needed a break.
“Tweek, babe. Riddle me this. Why the fuck are you working on your birthday and is this why you haven’t answered any of my calls?” Craig leaned on the counter top, oblivious and uncaring of the glares aimed at his back as he made conversation with the sole, overworked employee.
Tweek felt his whole body shift with the appearance of his boyfriend. The world felt clearer and it was easier to breathe whenever Craig was there to bring him up. There was no one like him, no one that could break through all of Tweek’s walls with one look, no one who could fight through all of Tweek’s demons and still make him feel loved and wanted by the end.
“Ngh I’ve got to. My parents said I needed to do the shift today.” At his words, Craig turned his head in disgust at the still hovering Richard Tweak. Craig had, it could be said, and interesting relationship with Tweek’s father. The dark haired boy was repeatedly rude and blatantly disrespectful whenever he saw him, if for nothing more than the way he treated Tweek however, for some unfathomable reason, his dad allowed it. When asked, his father would murmur something about gayness being good for the family business and then would go off on a long winded metaphor that often made Tweek’s eyes glaze over. A part of him felt like he should be offended that his father found his only worth in his son being his relationship with another man, but that would mean that he would have to actually allow himself to care in and what his father thought. On most days Tweek spent a lot of energy trying not to.
“Why are you making Tweek work on his birthday?” Craig demanded, ignoring the slew of insults being thrown at him by the crowd behind him, now he was taking up not one, but two employee’s attention.
“Oh.. it’s his birthday? How nice.” Richard Tweak said blandly, as though Craig had commented on the weather, rather than remind him of an important milestone in Tweek’s life. It was his sixteenth birthday after all.
“Jesus fucking Christ. You’d forgotten your son’s birthday!” Dark locks of hair shook as Craig moved his head from side to side in fury, the usual stoic face was contorted into disbelief alongside anger. Tweek didn’t know why Craig was surprised, this wouldn’t have been the first time his parents had failed to even notice their son for more than anything but cheap labour, yet every time they did so, Craig would take personal affront to it.
Before Richard could counter or even say anything in his defence, a middle aged woman piped up with a loud whine. “The service here is shocking! The barista is just having a chat with his friend and I’ve been waiting in this queue for hours!” There was a murmur of agreement in the queue and Tweek internally winced. He didn’t like working for his parents, but that didn’t mean he wanted people to leave unhappy or wanted the business to fail. Craig however, apparently did not feel the same.
“Oh fuck off Karen!” He flippantly responded, barely sparing a glance in the indignant woman’s direction. It was obvious he couldn’t really even be bothered to flip her off, but in natural Tucker fashion, he felt obliged to.
“How dare you!” The woman gasped and Tweek could see the horror on her overly made up features, the Botox injected forehead struggling to display her emotions but somehow managing to convey her shock at being addressed in such a manner. The blonde was paralysed as Craig just shrugged and said. “It’s pretty easy to be honest.” He flipped her off again.
Tweek bit his lip in a desperate attempt to prevent from laughing. It wasn’t every day he got to see his boyfriend take on an entire mob of customers in his workplace and other members of the customers seemed to be experiencing the same mixture of emotions in response to this. There was clear frustration, some obviously appalled at the treatment of the woman, whilst some were bemused or even sympathetic.
Tweek’s brain, as always, only registered the negativity from the group, and the humour of the situation quickly fell, being replaced with more anxiety.
“Tweek, kindly tell your boyfriend to stop flipping off our customers.” His dad’s tone was gentle, but there was an edge of darkness, and Tweek heard the warning under the joviality. To be honest, Tweek wasn’t sure if anyone could get Craig to do something he didn’t want to do, despite who they were and even if he could, Tweek would never ever want to.
“I can’t tell him what to do, dad.” Tweek said defensively. It was an argument that Tweek had actually had with one too many people. All who assumed that Craig was a force to be controlled, reigned in and Tweek would be the one to do it. Dating Craig meant Tweek was handed a very special key, and there was nothing anyone could ever do or say that would make him ever betray Craig’s heart like that.
“He needs to stop hassling our customers Tweek.” His father said, a disappointed frown on his face.
“Please continue to talk about me as though I’m not here.” Craig drawled, his hip canted into the counter and his head leaning heavily to one side, his dark eyes narrowing at his boyfriend’s dad.
“Are you even going to bother serving any one today? Or is it beneath you?” The woman from earlier chimed back in loudly. “Jesus these kids are so lazy. How hard is it to make a coffee?” Tweek jumped, his trance broken from the stalemate between his boyfriend and his dad.
“Ngh. I.. I’ll get to it.” The blonde scrambled to get a new takeaway cup and headed to ask the latest customer for their order. Craig didn’t move, his eyes tracking Tweek’s shaky movements, he did hear his father however who he assumed had stepped up behind him to help. Instead he was greeted with the low drone of his voice telling Tweek to make sure he ‘got a move on with the customers he had kept waiting.’
That apparently was the straw that broke the camel's back when it came to Craig’s waning patience. Without warning, he moved forward, placing a hand over Tweek’s trembling one. The azure eyes of his boyfriend seemed to be asking Tweek to trust him, which seemed ridiculous to Tweek, because there was never a moment in their lives where he wouldn’t trust Craig.
Taking this as permission, Craig wrapped his hand tightly around his and pulled so that they were essentially holding hands. “I’m going to be taking Tweek now so that he can actually celebrate his birthday and not work at your shitty coffee store.” Richard looked affronted, holding a hand to his chest.
“Tweek needs to work. We are having an eleventh anniversary celebration for this store, which is extremely important to all of us! Tweek knows that this family makes sacrifices for the good of the business.” Craig rolled his eyes and pulled Tweek along the length of the counter, leaving him with no option but to follow. Tweek looked over at his father and then at Craig’s face, already knowing the decision he was going to make. With his free hand, he slipped it behind his back and undid the ties to his apron.
“Make your sacrifices using someone else. I’m taking Tweek.” Craig’s voice was firm and Tweek felt a large smile creep on his face. When Craig was by his side, there was nothing he felt he couldn’t do. He gave Tweek a confidence and strength he sometimes worried he would never have, but in this moment, with their hands clasped and a furious look on Craig’s face, Tweek knew that he would follow him to the ends of the earth.
“Tweek.. don’t leave, we need you to work,” his father implored. Eyes wide with the realisation that he actually may lose his only worker for the day.
Craig and his father arguing over him was nothing new and had been something so prevalent in his life that he thought he really should be used to it by now. It had been such a shitty morning however, and the pressure to simply keep everyone happy weighed heavily down on him. The faces of the customers, that his father held so highly of, stared at him. Tweek felt the lurch of guilt twist through him, this was the family business on one hand, and he had been working under his parents leadership for so long there was almost something wrong with simply leaving. On the other hand, his body ached from having to deal with the morning rush solo, his hands ached from the various burns he had accrued and his whole body was shaking with stale anxiety, it would be prudent for his own health and of course the sake of his relationship, to allow his boyfriend to pull him out the shop and away from this all.
Sensing his hesitation, Craig moved around the counter as they reached the end, enveloping him in his arms and kissing his temple.
“You’re stronger than you think honey, don’t let them think you don’t deserve this.” The decision became easy when he leant back and looked into Craig’s calming eyes. It was like a lightbulb in his head, he was strong and he wasn’t going to allow his parents to guilt trip him into another missed birthday. He turned in Craig’s arms pointing a finger at his father.
“Ngh fuck you dad. It’s my birthday, I’m leaving.” The dark haired boy chuckled in his ear, which sent a shiver up Tweek’s spine. Fuck, he really loved his guy.
With a racing heart, Tweek pulled his apron up over his head and flung it over the stand in the corner. Laughing as Craig clasped their hands tightly together and pulled him out of the store, flipping off everyone with his other hand and ignoring the outraged cry of impatient customers who clearly didn’t approve of the barista leaving. His dad might have shouted at him to stay, but Tweek didn’t pay him any mind, smiling gleefully and feeling full that someone remembered his birthday.
Things may have taken a turn that Tweek had never expected them to, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t need lonely cupcakes and candles, he didn’t need wishes that never came true; with his hand tightly grasped in Craig’s as they ran down the cold streets of South Park, he knew there was no other way he would want to spend this day.