Chapter Text
Flynn shut their laptop with a decisive click and a loud huff. She hadn’t really meant it to sound so aggressive, but it was loud enough that it made Willie jump from the other side of the living room and Bobby look over from beside her with a raised eyebrow.
“Sorry,” Flynn huffed. They tucked their laptop into her backpack and took quick stock of what was in it - pencil case and notebook for class tomorrow, charging cord, and....her work shirt. Ugh.
“What did your backpack do to offend you so badly?” Willie asked. Fae was sitting at their kitchen table, head bent over faer sketchbook as usual. If Willie wasn’t at the skate park or running around the city doing whatever fae and Alex did together (Flynn never asked; ignorance is bliss, after all), then faer head was always in a sketchbook.
“It had my work shirt,” Flynn said, “Which reminded me that I work in half an hour, which reminded me that Julie was supposed to pick me up ten minutes ago, which reminded me that they aren’t here, which can only be because she’s with the band, so I’m going to be late for work and it’s all Luke’s fault.”
“My favourite attribute of yours,” Bobby said, reaching over to nudge her leg with a socked foot from their side of the couch, “is how you can blame anything on Luke, no matter what the problem is.”
“It’s a talent,” Flynn said. “If there were an Olympic event for mental gymnastics, I’d win gold every time.”
Willie snorted but didn’t look up from faer sketchbook. Bobby just rolled its eyes.
“Neither of you appreciate me,” Flynn said. “This is why I need Julie.”
The doorknob jiggled. And then jiggled again. And then, from outside the door, someone groaned.
“Speak of the devil,” Willie toned, still bent over faer sketchbook.
“And xe has to beg for entry to our humble apartment because we’ve lived here for a year and she still can’t get the door to unlock,” Bobby finished.
“I tell them all the time,” Flynn said, “You have to jiggle it left, right, then hard to the left and back to the right. She never listens.”
“I can hear you,” Julie’s voice came from the other side of the door. Willie did look up from faer sketchbook this time, just to shoot Flynn and Bobby a grin.
“We know,” Willie called back. “We can hear you too.”
There was another frustrated groan. Flynn decided it was probably a good moment to actually open the door, so she did. Julie was, of course, standing on the other side and looking disgruntled. But she was alone, which meant xe had already dropped the boys off at their apartment after rehearsal.
“You’re going to have to learn how to open the door one of these days,” Flynn said.
Julie just rolled their eyes at Flynn. “It’s not my fault it hates me,” xe said. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah,” Flynn sighed. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Flynn had worked at Cafe Flutterbee for almost a year now, since they had started at the college nearby. Julie and the boys were starting to make money with the band, but not enough that Flynn could afford rent and school. So Flynn picked up shifts at Cafe Flutterbee and worked all sorts of crazy hours to cover it all.
They didn’t mind, either. Not really. Julie had offered to let Flynn take her cut of what the band was earning because Julie’s dad, Ray, was helping Julie pay for xyr apartment. That hadn’t felt fair, though, because Julie deserved to earn money, too. So Flynn worked at Cafe Flutterbee.
Flynn didn’t mind it, really. There was live music every night and lots of big name industry execs would come in and they tipped well. Really well.
The thing was, up til now Flynn’s only rule had been that she’d do whatever crazy hours they needed of her except Friday nights. Those were the craziest nights - where the place was packed and people got rowdy. The tips were good, too, because the best acts were always on and the place was crawling with music execs. But it was also busy and exhausting and Friday nights were band nights, which was the most important night of the week to Flynn. They’d never mention that to the boys, though. But Julie knew, which was why xe was going to pick Flynn up half an hour early today, so they could have a coffee before Flynn’s shift and spend some girl-adjacent time together.
“Sorry I was late,” Julie said as the car doors shut behind them with a bang. The perks of being best friends with someone who’s dad paid their rent was that they could afford a car. And drive Flynn places. “I can hang around the counter and bug you for a bit before things really pick up.”
“That would be nice,” Flynn said. She felt her bad mood melt away just a little bit. This was Flynn’s first Friday in almost a year at the cafe. It had to happen - they had too many evening classes this semester, and you had to work at least three evenings a week to work at Cafe Flutterbee. Which meant Flynn was stuck on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays, at least for this semester.
“Who do you work with today?” Julie asked.
Flynn made a face. “Carol.”
Julie made a face back. “Maybe I won’t hang around.”
“Please,” Flynn scoffed. “You love me too much for that, Molina.”
“That’s what they all say,” Julie said, but xe grinned and glanced at Flynn out of the corner of their eye.
“How was band practice?” Flynn asked. They were nearing the shop - two streets to go and then Flynn would be selling their soul to Cafe Flutterbee for the next seven hours.
“We came up with a setlist for the Orpheum!” Julie exclaimed. “I’m really in love with it.”
Flynn gave Julie a sidelong glance. “Five hours and all you did was come up with the setlist?”
“ And we took the pictures you wanted us to for Instagram, and we started filming the material you wanted for Youtube.”
“Started?” Flynn asked as the car pulled into the parking lot.
“You know how Luke gets when he’s in front of the camera and you’re not there to threaten him,” Julie said. “He just kept giggling. And you know what Reggie is like when Luke starts to go, and Alex said we couldn’t do the video just the two of us because that’s unfair.” Xe mock pouted. “We need to change band day.”
Flynn huffed. “We’ll figure it out later. It might have to be a band morning, you know how my classes are.”
“Yeah,” Julie said as they parked the car.
They walked up to the door in mostly-silence. Not the uncomfortable kind of silence, really - it was the kind of silence that was necessary when you were walking up to your job at six o’clock in the evening knowing that within the hour the entire place would be packed and you’d have sold your soul to Carol just for a dinner break. Or something.
Flynn could feel Julie brace themself beside her as they opened the door and walked up to the coffee bar. Flynn braced herself too, because of course Carol was right there as they walked up.
“Well hello girls,” Carol practically shouted as they approached.
“Still not a girl,” Julie said as she seated herself on an empty barstool. Flynn rested her arm on Julie’s shoulder and leaned into them.
“I just call ‘em as I see ‘em, love,” Carol responded. It would feel nauseating, but after one year of nearly the same phrase from Carol every time it sort of lost its bite. Or - it changed from a sharp pain to a dull ache that Flynn could manage because they only worked with Carol twice a week. “What will I be getting for you, then?”
“Caramel Macchiato,” Julie said almost immediately.
“Black for me,” Flynn toned lifelessly. Carol bustled away and Flynn draped her whole body against Julie, head resting on xyr shoulder in defeat. “I don’t think I can do this every Friday,” she groaned.
“You don’t have to,” Julie started. Flynn pinched her in the side.
“I do,” Flynn said. “Plus, the tips will be good.”
“Fine,” Julie said as Carol came back with their drinks. Julie lowered their voice. “But if you need someone to kick her ass, you know where to find me.”
Flynn just gave Julie a look as Carol bustled away to ring up a customer at the till. “You literally could not hurt a fly, Molina.”
“I know,” Julie said as xe took a sip of her drink. “But if I’m nice enough then Alex will do what I say and if he’s nice enough then Willie will do what he says and Willie would probably fight her.”
“Willie would not fight her,” Flynn said, downing half their coffee. “The only thing Willie fights are wasps that sneak into the apartment.”
“Allegedly,” Julie said.
“Allegedly,” Flynn answered gravely. “I gotta go get changed.” She tipped her head back and drank the rest of her coffee, ignoring how it burnt their throat as it went down.
“I’ll be here when you get back,” Julie said.
Flynn shrugged on her black and pink shirt quickly in the bathroom and splashed some water on their face. Six hours of Carol - and as much as Julie would probably give Carol a piece of xyr mind if Flynn really wanted, it wouldn’t end well for Flynn.
Julie was still in her seat, sipping on her drink when Flynn got back to the bar. They had their phone out and were showing something on it to Jackson, Flynn’s favourite coworker. Their heads were together and they were laughing at whatever was on the screen. Julie was the kind of person who’s smile shone - it lit up the room and everyone around xem and every time Flynn saw it they felt like they had to remind themself how lucky she was to be Julie’s friend.
Jackson saw Flynn approach first, and raised his tattooed arms triumphantly as she walked up. “Flynnie!” Jackson shouted as Flynn dodged a customer to slip behind the counter.
“What disaster of a video is Julie showing you this time?” Flynn asked.
“The one where Luke tried to spin his guitar around his body but the strap came undone and his guitar hit Reggie,” Julie said.
Flynn grinned at her. “We should put that on TikTok,” they said. “Everyone would love it.”
“We should save it,” Julie said gravely, “for the day we write a song about nosebleeds, or the destructive force of Luke after drinking one Pepsi.”
“That would be a great song,” Jackson said, elbowing Flynn lightly. “Call it ‘What You do to Me’ and in brackets, ‘Pepsi.’”
Julie snorted. “Luke probably has something like that already written, honestly.” She took another sip from her mug.
“When are they going to come by here?” Jackson asked. “It’s a crime that I still haven’t met them.”
“Never,” Flynn said with a sigh. “They don’t come here. I can get you in backstage to our next show, though. Then you can see Luke hyped up on Pepsi in real life.” She grinned at Jackson and Julie but was whisked away by a customer waving her down before they could offer more of an explanation.
Cafe Flutterbee was where everyone got noticed. You could start out performing on Monday and Tuesday nights - sign up only, like an open mic. If the owner liked the act, they’d get offered a better spot - maybe Wednesday or Sunday. Then Thursday. Then Saturday. Fridays were the most coveted - the nights where the talent scouts and industry executives showed up to see who was popular. Lots of people got famous that way - most of the big singers in the past few years from LA had Cafe Flutterbee to thank for their record deals.
But not Julie and The Phantoms. They had started playing school dances - first at Julie’s high school, Loz Feliz, and then at more schools in the area. Then they had made a Youtube and had gotten a big following that way.
But it was the music video for Finally Free that had gone viral and given them a bigger name and a record deal, not Cafe Flutterbee. Julie’s dad had shot the video, Flynn had done all the makeup, and Willie had decorated and created the sets they needed. They released it during pride - at the time it had mostly just been something for them to celebrate themselves. Luke had pulled off his shirt in one shot to show his top surgery scars, Julie’s dress was in the colours of the trans pride flag, Reggie wore a bi flag on his back and Alex had convinced Willie to kiss him in front of the camera. And it had taken off.
They couldn’t have done that at Cafe Flutterbee. Sure, they could have gotten picked up by a label, but it wouldn’t have been the same. There was no coming out or trying to convince people you belonged - or at least not as much - when you got a record deal because you were queer. So Julie would come to Cafe Flutterbee when Flynn was working, but the boys wouldn’t come near. It felt like bad luck - like tempting fate.
The evening started to pick up and Julie said goodbye not long after. Flynn was thankful to have Jackson there - he was happy to run interference between Flynn and Carol so Flynn didn’t have to deal with being misgendered which made Flynn’s shift feel so much better. Carol may be comfortable pissing off Julie and Flynn but she was definitely scared of Jackson. Which was sort of exactly what you’d expect from Carol - being afraid of Jackson because he was black and covered in tattoos and wore his hair in dreadlocks, even though he had a smile for everyone he talked to and had probably never even, like, killed an ant.
The night was actually going well for a Friday with Carol, surprisingly. The acts were excellent, Flynn had already made nearly fifty dollars in tips just for serving coffee, biscuits, and the occasional tea.
And then Carrie Wilson, of all people, appeared out of nowhere. On stage . Because of course Carrie Wilson was a regular Friday performer at the place that Flynn worked. Of course she was . At least Julie had left earlier so they didn’t have to see Carrie, too.
“Alright?” Jackson asked as he flew by Flynn, and she realized she had been standing stock still just staring at Carrie on stage.
Flynn took one more moment to look before taking a deep breath and turning around to refill the coffee pot. Carrie was here but so were fifty other people. Carrie was singing, but that didn’t mean Flynn would have to talk to her or would even see her up close.
Maybe next Friday Flynn could get a lineup of people as a buffer. Sure, the boys wouldn’t come and they couldn’t risk Julie running into Carrie, but Bobby might come for the first part of their shift - it always liked the music here. And maybe Willie would come, too, and sit at the bar with faer sketchbook and just make Flynn feel a little bit more confident.
“She’s pretty good,” Jackson said, sidling up to Flynn again. He gestured toward the stage, to where Carrie was still singing. It was sort of a sad song with a bit of an indie vibe - which didn’t sound like Carrie at all. She had always been about the bubblegum pop. It was weird how time changed people in so many ways.
“Yeah,” Flynn said. “She’s also gay and evil, so don’t be too mesmirized.”
Jackson chuckled and started walking away, but spun back towards Flynn after a step and a half. “Did you say evil ?” he asked.
Flynn gave him a half-smile. “Yeah. Here, help me with this order. It’s a table of five and they all want the most complicated coffee orders as if it isn’t midnight.”
“It’s six am somewhere,” Jackson said. He rolled his eyes but came to help Flynn, taking the whipped cream and chocolate drizzle from them and distributing it among the cups with graceful flare. “So why is this girl evil?”
“She was best friends with me and Julie in middle school,” Flynn explained. “Julie came out in seventh grade and was starting hormones and everything, and it was really stressful, you know?”
Jackson nodded. “Kids are mean,” he said.
“Not really,” Flynn responded, handing him another cup. “Teachers are mean, mostly. Teachers and Carrie, anyway. Carrie told Julie they’d never be friends if Julie transitioned and then was just - horrible to Julie all the way through middle and high school. I haven’t even seen her since the day we graduated.”
“Shit,” Jackson whistled. “At least Julie didn’t decide to kick around.”
“Yeah,” Flynn said. “That’s what I thought, too.”
“She’ll probably just sing and leave,” said Jackson. He put a comforting hand on Flynn’s shoulder. “Most people do. No one hangs out for the whole night.”
Of course, Carrie Wilson wasn’t most people .
And it would have been fine if she had just walked up to the bar like a normal person so Flynn had time to run. But no, she sent her friend up first, who Flynn vaguely remembered from high school but definitely didn’t remember hanging around Carrie. And then, of course, Carol had to go and try to serve Carrie’s friend and of course she managed to misgender them at least five times in one sentence. And - well, if Flynn were being honest, even if she had known it was Carrie’s friend, she probably still would have called Carol an ugly hag, because it was sort of worth it, but she called Carol an ugly hag and then Carrie’s friend, Nick, said thank you and introduced themself and then all of a sudden Flynn was standing face to face with Carrie.
It was a tense moment. Carrie looked Flynn up and down. Flynn considered dropping to the floor behind the bar so Carrie couldn’t see her. Nick looked like they had no idea what was going on - and they probably didn’t, honestly.
“Can I just have, like, a hot chocolate, Flynn?” Carrie said finally.
“Oh my god,” said Flynn. “That’s what you have to say to me?”
Carrie gave Flynn the fakest smile that Flynn had ever seen. “Well, you work here. And I’m the performer and a paying customer. So yes, Flynn. I want a hot chocolate.”
“I can’t do this.” Flynn spun on their heel. “Jackson, can you get her a hot chocolate?” They called across the bar. Jackson glanced up from the drink he was making and Flynn saw him look past her and toward Carrie. He gave her a nod and a little sympathetic smile.
“I’m taking my break,” Flynn said, to Carol this time. They didn’t wait to hear Carol’s response, just forced their way out the door behind the bar that led into the back alley. It smelled like garbage in the alley, but at least here Flynn didn’t have to look at Carrie.
Flynn pulled out their phone, intending to call Julie to tell xem what happened, but stopped herself. Julie was Flynn’s person for everything, really. Every heartbreak, every bad day, every gender crisis - but Julie couldn’t be their person for this. That wasn’t fair to her.
So instead, Flynn dialed Willie. She sank to the ground while the phone rang against the brick wall of the cafe and leaned their head back. This was going to be a long semester.