Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This establishment looks like trash, Nandor. " Laszlo curved around the door as it swung open, not even looking back to see if the door hit his tall companion. Nandor huffed as he pushed the door open, almost getting a face full of a grimey door due to Laszlo's blasé attitude towards their outing.

"Oh, come on Laszlo, karaoke is fun!" Despite his stout friend's attitude, Nandor played out his words playfully, showcasing his excitement in a subtle way. The shorter man waved his hand behind him dismissively to the other as they made their way through the small hallway opening to the main part of the building. They stopped short to take in the room. There were 8 main tables, two of them seemed to be crooked. The stage was small but definitely had enough room to put on a decent show. The karaoke set up was easily seen on the left corner of the stage.

There were bundles of people scattered around the business, three tables filled, two already performing on stage and the rest at the bar. The bar appeared far more popular. Laszlo's eyes brightened at this fact.

"Ey, look over there", the Brit half-heartedly raised his arm and pointed towards the crowd at the bar counter, "looks like those gents and ladies need some liquid courage before getting on stage."

Nandor watched his arm raise and followed it to the bar, observing the chatter and laughter of the patrons. "Maybe they're nervous? It takes a lot to perform I'm sure."

"Or they're just shit at singing."

"Laszlo!" Nandor lightly smacked Laszlo's shoulder with the back of his hand. Laszlo stared at his shoulder and brushed it while Nandor continued, "You don't know that. You are just being a big meanie because you perform for a job."

Laszlo turned to him, looking up into Nandor's eyes.
"Nandor, my dear, I guarantee you 90 percent of these people su-huck. They know they suck, I know they suck and you know they suck." Laszlo poked Nandor's right pec as he emphasized the 'you know they suck'.

The action made Nandor's nose twitch. He thinned his eyes at his housemate. "Well, of course they do, but would it kill you to play nice."

Nandor's voice rose near the end of his sentence, possibly due to this exact sentence coming out of his mouth before. The other raised his head, upturned, positioning his hand on his chest regally.

"It would, actually." Laszlo smiled smugly, elongating 'actually.'

Nandor couldn't help but smile through his frustration, Laszlo's vocal quirks always endeared him. He pushed the other’s bicep as he turned to the crowd and walked to a table, the shorter man following afterward. Nandor picked a round table to the left side of the stage, about to sit.

"This one looks– "

"Nope! Not this table", Laszlo stated firmly.

Nandor rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Eeugh, why not?"

"That's one of them wobbly ones. See the piece of wood under one of the legs?”

Nandor swung his head down to look at the table leg, his dark hair brushing against his face, strands hanging on his lashes.

“Ooh….why does it matter?” He stood up straight again with a flip of his hair so it didn't shift back in his face.

Laszlo extended his arm to the table, shaking his hand with 2 fingers outstretched,”Because, you twit, the more weight you put on that table, the worse it's going to be. Sure, we could balance the weight evenly, but that could only work for so long and your muscular arms are going to weigh it down, so– ”

“Okay! I get it, we will pick another one.” Nandor raised his hands in surrender. He got the point. “Wait, you think my arms are muscular?”

“Shut up. Let's sit at this table in the front.” Laszlo beelined to the table in the front, positioned slightly to the right of the stage and sat down.

Nandor slid into the chair beside him, their shoulders clashing. “Oh doost-e man, I appreciate the compliment, but I didn't realize you were being more bold about our casual affair in public!”

Nandor, of course, was being dramatic. Laszlo furrowed his brow as his eyes flicked over to Nandor. He was leaning on Laszlo's shoulder and batting his eyes. Playing with him. He knew how to get Laszlo interested. Laszlo's eyebrows rose with his smirk. He circled Nandor's flannel covered shoulder with the tip of his finger, chuckling.

“Well, if you keep this up, maybe this whole bar will see how much I appreciate those muscular arms.” Laszlo's half lidded eyes switched from him tracing Nandor's arm up to Nandor's eyes. Nandor's smile instantly shifted to a nervous one.

Shit.

He forgot he was teasing the biggest pervert he knew. He shimmied his chair to separate from Laszlo. He was nervously snickering through his teeth, actively trying to pat his face to get rid of his blush.

“You pervert! No one wants to see that.” He shoved a laughing Laszlo's arm as he continued,” not that I would let you either.”

The other man chortled. “Aw Nandor, where's your sense of whimsy? Exhibitionism isn't always a bad thing, you know?”

Nandor crossed his left arm to hold himself, with his right one shielding his face. “Nooo, there will be no putting me or my penis on display today.”

The other shifted in his seat and leaned back. ”Your loss!”

They sat and surveyed the room. There was currently a guy on stage singing Meatloaf’s “I Would Do Anything For Love”. The men scrunched their faces, he was alright but pitchy. The bar had less people yet it was just as loud, crammed with people leaning over the counter to hail a bartender or spinning on the squeaky barstools. Nandor's eyebrow furrowed. He's always had great hearing, unfortunately that meant hearing the nails-on-a-chalkboard sound of the barstools.

The colorful lights didn't do much to liven up the black and grey of the room, but Nandor and Laszlo usually preferred a darker scene anyway. Nandor was twiddling his index fingers and thumbs together, taking in the background noise. He felt at peace despite the noise. His room at home was so dead quiet, it exacerbated the noise in his head. But going out, he felt so much better. Even a walk helped with the pressure in his jaws. He heard a clink next to him. Huh. When did Laszlo get a drink? Nandor tilted his head towards his friend. Laszlo had a glass of brandy on the rocks. Classy and simple, as always.

Laszlo tilted his glass towards Nandor. “Want some?”

The taller man raised his hand to him in a quiet form of denying the offer. “No thanks, I'm trying to stop drinking.”

“Oh. here we go.” Laszlo groaned.

Nandor pulled a face and scoffed. “Wha-what!? What's with this ‘oh, where we go shit’? You know I'm trying to be a better Muslim!”

Laszlo couldn't help but rub down his face with his free hand, keeping his hand at eye level to hold his head.

“Nandor, you don't always pray when you should.”

Nandor pouted. "I'm too busy to do 5 times a day.”

“You've eaten pork before, albeit not much.”

“It's not my fault American pork is so tempting! Feels like it's in everything too.”

Laszlo smiled as he continued his assault. “Let's not forget the occasional alcohol. All the sex and– ”

“Please! Enough, I am ashamed at how bad I am with keeping up my faith. Especially since arriving in America, I don't need a reminder,” Nandor whimpered with his head down.

He usually didn't have to face how loose he had gotten with his faith. What a downer. He felt a rubbing his shoulder blades. Laszlo spoke more sincerely this time around.

“Nandor, relax. You don't have to be ashamed, compadré. The way you practice your faith is for you and no one else, so what if you're a loose goose with it now! You're still devoted spiritually or whatever, right?”

Nandor let out the smallest confirmation, it barely escaped him.

“That's right, don't be so sulle- who the hell is that?” Laszlo’s hand stilled on his back as he interrupted himself, sounding shocked.

Nandor lifted his head from the table, confused as to what the other man was looking at. He watched Laszlo's face brighten, he was usually only that happy when playing piano or if he knew he was going to get freaky with someone. Nandor followed Laszlo's eyeline to a woman bouncing up on the stage.

Laszlo seemed to lock in on her. He was stunned by her beauty. She had beautiful charcoal hair that swayed down to her hips. Clad in a deep blue top with a sweetheart neckline that hugged her cleavage well, she also wore classic jeans that hugged her waist, showcasing her figure. The tips of her black boots poked out beneath the cuffs of her jeans. She fiddled with the machine, huffing and growling at it until she got what she wanted. She was squealing with delight as she made her way center stage. Mamma Mia's song “Honey, Honey” started playing. She delicately grabbed some cat-eyed sunglasses from her back pocket and put them on.

She put the microphone to her lips: “Honey, honey, how he thrills me! Ah-ha, honey, honey!”

Nandor crinkled his face and covered his ears. Now that was the worst one of the night. It had to be. He looked over to his companion for confirmation and he was befuddled. Laszlo looked starstruck! He couldn't see why, her screeching would have been a turn off for him. Laszlo swung left arm over Nandor's shoulder, hugging him close while he pointed up at the woman on stage.

“Nandor! That is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen!”, Laszlo exclaimed, almost too loud for Nandor's comfort.

“Really?” Nandor questioned with his eyes wincing. “She screeches like a bat.”

Laszlo turned his head to face Nandor, the smell of brandy was still lingering so heavily that Nandor had to close his eyes to prevent them from burning. “You just don't know a mesmerizing, talented and graceful woman when you see her,” the tipsy man listed.
Nandor sighed. He was so over this. He shrugged Laszlo's arm until the other got the hint to let go of Nandor. Nandor placed his hand on the table for leverage and pushed himself up and out of his chair. He started adjusting his dark red flannel.

“We should leave. We both have work tomorrow anyway.” Nandor's social battery was getting low. Admittedly, he didn't like his friend's new infatuation either, so he wanted to leave as soon as he could. When Nandor looked around for Laszlo, however, he found him already in front of the woman.

“Ehg, lanti.”

Nandor placed his hands harshly on his hips. Glaring daggers into the back of Laszlo's head, tapping his left foot. Each tap was heavy from his steel toed brown boots hitting the concrete floor.

Laszlo mused to the woman, “My dear, you are the finest piece of ass I've ever laid my eyes on. You are stunning! Would you do me the honor of spending the night with me?” He bowed his head to her, extending his hand for her to take. She took off her sunglasses to get a better look at him.

“Huh, no one's ever bowed to me before.” She smiled. “Alright strange man, stand up straight. Let me take a look at you.”

Laszlo's smile widened and followed her instruction. “Of course, madame! If I may, what is your name?”

The woman waltzed around him, looking up and down his frame. “My name is Nadja,” she met his gaze, “what is yours?”

Laszlo's heart pounded, he couldn't tell if she was staring at him with lust in her eyes or if he was just imagining it. Whatever was true, he didn't want it to end.

Nadja raised her brow. “Um, hello? Any lights on in that sexy head?”
Laszlo snapped back from his trance. The weight in his throat finally dropped. “Laszlo! Laszlo Cravensworth. It's a pleasure, dear Nadja.” His voice softened. He almost whispered her name. It was so soft.

Nadja’s breath hitched. She tugged gently on her top, not knowing where to put her hands. This man was magnetic to her. It was as simple as a little bow and an introduction. The way he said her name. No one has treated her so kindly before. He even used fancy, endearing words to butter her up. And damn, they worked on her. Her excitement had finally bubbled up to the surface.

She raised her arms, giggling. “Okay!”

“Wait… okay?” Laszlo said almost hesitantly.

“Yes! Okay, I will go home with you. I'm assuming you want to roll in the hay a few times, right?” Nadja was fired up now. She felt butterflies in her stomach, hoping she wouldn't throw them up from her nerves. Laszlo's confidence was surging with her excitement. He slowly wrapped an arm around hers and interlocked their fingers. “We can do whatever you like, Miss Nadja.”

As they walked towards the exit, she brimmed with snickers that escaped her mouth. “Oh, please, just Nadja! You sexy teddy bear, ha ha!”

Nadja and Laszlo laughed and chatted with each other all the way to the door. She spots his keys in his hands and taps on them, suggesting she should take them. Laszlo placed the keys in her hands, nodding in agreement. All this occurs while passing an aghast Nandor in the process. The tall man's mouth hung open in surprise and distress. Laszlo was supposed to go home with him, not this random woman who sings like she's underwater! Aggravated, he made his way to the door. He could probably catch them before they got in Laszlo's car.

“Avazi.” Nandor spat. Laszlo is his ride home. He swung the door to the bar open and looked to his left, Laszlo and this woman were getting into his car that was parked out front.
“Fuuuuck.” Nandor groaned as he ran to the left side of the front parking lot. He was trying to hail Laszlo down but the car was already backed up and turning off into the road. He grunted out his frustration. He was officially left behind. The 37 year old hung his head forward in defeat. Letting his hair cover his face, framing it like willow trees circle around the trunk. He took a breath, letting his shoulders rise and fall, then reached for his wallet. Feeling the weight and thickness of his wallet in his pocket, he regrettably realized that he didn't have any money for the bus. For a moment he just stared at the ground. He tried to collect himself.

Bam!

Nandor kicked the outside trash can into the alley. He tried, and failed, to compose himself. But at least Colin wouldn't get mad at him slicing up the backyard trees this time.

Chapter Text

    The sun broke through Nandor's window, glittering across the glass. The rays traveled across his room and laid rest on his face, making his eyes tighten. The room was quiet. Peaceful. Aesthetically lit from the window; light hitting his bed and ornate decor that hung on the walls.

   Nandor's face twitched. The sensation from the sun tingled on his eyelids. While lying in bed he firmly hugged his body, each arm crossed over his chest and clutching his shoulders. The light seemed to trigger his dreamscape to shift. The colors started changing behind his lids.

Green and yellow at first.

That yellow shifted to orange.

Then a blazing red.

   Nandor's chest falls ramped up in pace. Each rise and fall was shorter than the last. He started rocking, squirming back and forth. Nandor's face winced and twisted, looking like he was in pain or about to sob. He tugged at his black t-shirt that he slept in from last night, almost in desperation.

    Like he needed to keep hold of himself. He clenched his teeth together with his canines on display. They were longer, more sharp than the average. His shallow breaths escaped from between his gritted teeth, huffing from his nose. Nandor's face warmed up, making his weak pants transform into whines. The blazing red in his head was blurry, but he could make out figures.

    Figures. One, five, eight figures. Maybe more? Everything was moving so fast that he couldn't tell what was happening. They were all wailing. They sounded frightened and, ya khoda, it was deafening. Nandor's ears couldn't take it anymore. The figures were all screaming at once. It was a rumble of voices that were never yelling the same thing at the same time. The rushing crimson wall in front of him burst, popping and splattering. It felt so tangible. It felt thick on his face.

    A shadowed arm reached out from the newly made hole and into Nandor's line of sight. It had a large moonstone ring on its index finger and a leather bracelet with the letter tā dangling from it. Nandor yelped, shooting his eyes wide open. He shimmied around on the bed, hyperventilating, touching everything to see if it was real. His dilated pupils darted at himself and all over his room.

    No. It wasn't real. Nandor wasn't there anymore. He was not reaching for him. Nandor took another look around his room as his breathing slowed. “Fuuuuck.”

    His messy bun bobbed as he stomped his way down the stairs, coming from the nicer bathroom of the house. Nandor looked up as he let go of the railing and swung around to the entrance of the kitchen.

    Oh. That woman was still here. Fucking lady. His eyes drooped, “hello.”

    “Ah! Nandor, come sit down. Nadja was just telling me about what she does for work.” Laszlo was jovial. Far more than he usually was in the mornings. Nandor sat at the table and slumped forward. He wasn't just upset but also extremely tired. Nadja was wearing one of Laszlo's robes, she leaned forward to get a better look at Nandor's face. In doing so, some of her chest peeked out from the top. Feeling her eyes on him, Nandor glanced over at her, sighing. “So, what do you do for work?” “Ah, I'm glad you are so interested!” He was in fact, not interested. “I work as a waitress for a restaurant in Little Antipaxos! Very mom and pop, best Greek food around.”

    That did pique Nandor's interest, especially due to her thick accent. “Greek? Are you Greek as well?” She sounded like she was, but he wasn't sure. “Of course! Romani Greek and from Antipaxos myself, I was so lucky to find the Little Antipaxos community here.” She was beaming with pride and confidence. Nandor felt more comfortable with her now, knowing she's also from a different country like him. He smirked at her, a tired look still painting his face, “that sounds very convenient. To get any good Persian food in a restaurant I'd have to travel to Brooklyn and maybe the Upper West Side.”

    “You're Iranian?” Nadja said, muffled as she bit into her last sausage. Nandor sat up and brushed some stray hairs out of his face, feeling more content.

    “I am. Born and bred in Shiraz. It is a southern city there. My parents sent me here four years ago in hopes that I would find better opportunities for work and possibly be able to send money back to help them out.”

    A sharply dressed man who looked like he was in his early forties entered the kitchen, and without looking at any of them, started preparing a pan on the stove. “Yeah, uh, how has that been working so far?”

    Nandor slumped in his seat again, staring sharply towards the man that had just entered the kitchen. “I am working on it,” Nandor sighed. Nadja bounced her eyes back and forth from Nandor to the nerdy man that just walked in. “What - What does he mean by that, Nandor? You are doing well, yes?”

    Nandor shot a finger gun at her in response, “yes!”

    “No.” Laszlo and the astute man stated flatly, like it was fact. The sound of an egg cracking and hitting a pan filled the silence. Nandor’s head was in his hands, dejected. Nadja awkwardly glanced around, at Nandor, at Laszlo reading the paper, then at the other man flipping a fried egg onto a small plate. She placed the tips of her fingers on the exposed part of her chest. “Oh Nandor, is your job donkey shit? I don't get paid that great either, but hey, I get by fine!”

    “We are in a recession, my dahling.” Laszlo chimed in. “Not like there's good work right now, anyway.” Nandor placed his hands down from his face. “Aw, Laszlo, you always know what pet names to use to make me feel better.”

    Laszlo swiped down his newspaper, confused. “I was talking to Nadja.”

    Before Nandor could react, the other man sat at the table with his plate of eggs. “Nan-man is, hm, in between jobs.” Nandor opened his mouth to speak, but he resigned to just pursing his lips.

    “Short story short, the fucker got fired. From the ShopRite of all places.”

    “Hey! That one was not my fault, I did not do anything wrong! It was their loss, really.” Nandor started looking more peeved as he recalled his last firing.

    Laszlo sighed and started rubbing his temple, responding, “Nandor, you rode the shopping carts, including rows of carts, to put them up. That's why they fired you.”

    “It was faster to do so! And where is their sense of whimsy?” Nandor retorted. “Colin Robinson, you agree with me right?” Nandor was hoping someone would agree with him that it was a stupid reason to get fired.

    Colin rested his fork on the empty ivory plate, making a low clink. He stared up in thought. “Hm, let me think. Uhh, no.” His tone indicated he really didn't have to think about it. Nandor's face dropped, gutted.

    “Whaaat? Colin Robinson, why not?”

    “Because you could have wrecked the carts, you could have hit a car, a person, or the building. It's a liability and they already told you how to do it correctly.” Colin pushed his chair out and stood in front of the table. “Oh yeah, rent is due in two weeks, by the way.” Nandor gave the table a thousand yard stare, eyes wide with worry.

    “Fucking fuck. Fuck meee.” Nandor murmured to himself. What was he going to do?

    Nadja tilted her head. "Couldn't you ask family for help until you get another job? Persians are very family oriented, from what I hear.”

    Laszlo couldn't stop the laugh that made its way out of him. Nadja batted his hand, scolding him. “I'm sorry, my sweet. It's just that Nandor's family doesn't like him. That's why they sent him here.”

    Nandor blinked out of his daze and raised his voice to the giggling Brit. “That is not true! My maman loves me! And so does my sister, I think. We, ahm, haven't talked since I moved here.” He became less sure of this as he spoke. What if they didn't like him? How would he know?

    “What about your dad? If he's still around.” Nadja asked.

    Laszlo flipped a page of his newspaper, skimming the funny pages. “Oh. he's around.”

    Nandor slammed his fists down on the table, shooting Laszlo a look of warning. “Yes, he is still alive. No, he won't help, and it's not because he hates me, It's because he wants me to earn it!”

    The shocked faces after his outburst immediately made him resign himself, he awkwardly shifted in place. He didn't realize he was so pent up in regard to his family. He never really talks about them in detail, especially his relationship with his father.

    Colin cleared his throat, still standing where he was, watching the drama. “Try not to break the table. I've seen you destroy harder material.” Only after making this clear to Nandor did he turn and walk to the sink. Colin started on the dishes, cleaning fast but efficiently. Nandor watched Colin until he got to the sink, then sighed harshly.

    Nadja rubbed her thumb over the tip of her nail. “Och, I didn't mean to dig all that up Nandor. I didn't know your family left you here for dead.”

    Laszlo shot up from what he was reading to address his lady love's comment. “Woah there, now we never said that they did that!

    Nadja raised her hands. “Well, he said his daddy hates him and he doesn't talk to any other family! With the way the political climate was when he arrived and, frankly, how it is now, I guessed they just wanted him gone. It is dangerous for him to live here! If he actually became successful, I'm sure they'd speak to him again, but he is not, so he is no better than horse dung to them.” Laszlo actually looked nervous, his eyes flicked from Nadja to Nandor like a metronome at high speed. Almost like he was waiting for Nandor's volatile reaction. Nandor inhaled deeply. Laszlo couldn't tell if he was going to cry or tear something apart, and Colin was looking over his shoulder while finishing the dishes. Nandor snatched up a cloth napkin and threw it across the table, baring his fang-like teeth.

    “Fine! Maybe they do hate me, I don't have any fucking idea if they do or not! I don't care if they deserted me, I am a loyal son. I will,” Nandor's voice hitched, “I will try to fulfill their wish for me. To live better for all of us…I'll eat breakfast somewhere else.” Nandor strided out the kitchen and grabbed his leather jacket from the coat rack before slamming the front door behind him. Laszlo and Nadja just sat in silence. She circled her right hand up in confusion.

    “So… I was right?”

Chapter Text

    Fucking fucks!

    Huff

    Breathing harshly through his nose, Nandor stomped down the street. Speed-walking through crowds on the sidewalk and pushing people out of his way. He had been walking for a while now but still hadn't stopped for food. He honestly didn't know what food he wanted, he passed a plethora of places already, he just didn't want to stop walking. He could feel the air hitting his throat, in turn, making it drier than before he left the house.

    He started jogging through a crosswalk, “Shit, I need to get something to drink.” He rubbed his neck.

    Hooonk!

    Nandor jumped, startled by the sudden noise so close to him. He whipped his head to the left side of the traffic, where there was a car honking at him. Nandor continued walking, but shot the middle-aged guy that was driving an indignant look.

    “Out of the way, Arab!” the guy shouted, his free arm swinging out the window for emphasis.

    “Don't you look stupid right now, ‘cause I'm not even Arab!” Nandor shouted and walked backwards, despite the melted snow in the ground. The car zoomed by him, and Nandor flipped his middle finger up at the car as it sped by. He groaned and slid his hands down his face. Keeping a level head was hard for him, but that went probably as well as it could've gone.

    Nandor got to the sidewalk, grumbling. He didn't want to deal with this shit so early. He fumbled in his jacket pocket, pulling out a blood red and silver BlackBerry Pearl. It's been looking rough lately. It's a 2007 model but it’s well loved. And he maybe drops it a little too often–but it was miles better than his old government phone from when he first arrived in America. He checked the time at the top left of the screen, it was already 8:40 AM.

    “Shit.” He needed to find something to eat before job hunting. He usually liked starting around 9:15 AM to 9:30 AM, that way he had all day to search and it factored in any eating, travel or break time he may take. It's a meaningless time constraint since he didn't have a job right now, but he liked the structure. A brief thought went through his head of calling Colin Robinson and asking if he'd get him food, but Nandor already knew it was a fruitless endeavor, so he didn't waste his minutes on it.

    “Salâm, Nandor! Chetori?” A male voice rang out.

    Nandor's ears honed in on the voice. He looked away from his phone's tiny screen. He couldn't contain his eager facial expression, smiling ear to ear. “Muhammad!” He jogged up to a food cart that was close to the street corner where he was just standing, chuckling as he did so, ice slurry crunching underneath his boots.

    “I'm okay old friend, you?” Nandor rested his arms on the flat surface of the cart in front where the food usually was placed. “Ah, business as usual, you know.” Muhammad replied. “Put that cellular phone back in your pocket before you drop it. Again. “

    “Shet! You're right.” Nandor hastily shoved his BlackBerry back in his jacket pocket. He knew his friend was tired of seeing him drop it.

    “So, how much is the Koobideh? I'm hoping the recession hasn't hit you too hard.” Nandor slid the hair tie out from his hair, wrapping it around his thumb, index and middle finger.

    Muhammad shook his head, looking to the side, sucking the crisp air through his teeth. “It is ten dollars now, my friend.” He was apologetic. He didn't want to raise his price, but everything had gotten more expensive and he wasn't a regular restaurant that could afford to keep their regular prices.

    “What?” Nandor exclaimed, hair halfway tied. He slumped his arms down, hair falling back on his shoulders. “ Fuuuuck.” Nandor slowly let out his frustration, looking to the ground in defeat. “Are you sure? I have eight dollars.”

    Muhammad nodded, confirming. His hand covered his frown as he brushed his fingers against his salt and pepper beard. Nandor let out a groan, “Come on, you are basically an amoo to me! You can give me a discount.”

    Sighing, Muhammad put out his hands. “I would like to Nandor, but I have an ex-wife to pay, remember?” Nandor looked askance, finally eyeing the sign with a sticker over the original pricing, the sticker that now read ten dollars. A misty puff escaped his lips as he awkwardly evaded Muhammad's eyes.

    “Eeshh, okay,” Nandor tapped the side of Muhammad's cart, “I can find somewhere else to eat.” Nandor turned to the sidewalk and gave a little wave to his friend. He started rubbing the fingers of his other hand that touched the cart, warming them up from the cold.

   “We're on Hylan Boulevard, there's a Panera up the street!” Muhammad tried calling out, but he didn't know if Nandor heard him.

    Between the bustle of noise and the machinery behind him, Guillermo heard the thrust of the entrance door. The air chilled as a tall, striking man entered through the door. The man opened it with his arm, so his leather jacket took the brunt of the cold. He blew the cold air from his lips, creating a puff of condensation. Guillermo's face got warm. He tightened his lips to fight it off.

    Damn it Guillermo. What the hell is wrong with you? It's just a guy. A normal guy. You meet guys all the time. He's just -fuck- he's so hot. Wow. It's actually criminal.

    Guillermo couldn't tell why he found him so attractive, but he was immediately enamored. He watched the man let the door shut behind him and look around, like he's never been in a Panera before. Guillermo stood at the cash register in earnest.

    OK Guillermo, this is your chance. When he comes up, you take his order and slip in some flirting, just to see if he's interested.

    Nandor shivered off the biting cold and listened to the door softly thud behind him. The warmth inside the restaurant was relieving, being a stark difference from outside. Even still, his face was numb from the icy outdoors. Looking around at the seating and the counters, he found himself humming. He was humming to the song on the Panera radio.

    “I'll be yours, you'll be mine.”

    Nandor treaded forward, shifting his eyes up, and meeting another set of brown eyes. Nandor's heartbeat rose in pace, for just a moment.

    Those eyes…they're so warm.

    Nandor felt like the sun was on him. Like the weather was good as long as he was staring in those eyes.

    “Baby, you'll just be my summer boyfriend.”

    He is pretty cute, Nandor mused to himself, it's a shame what he's wearing. Wha- what is that? His grandma's sweater? Doesn't he own any other warm clothes? It is so zesht.

    Guillermo breathed in sharp, the inside of his nose burning. He was so distracted by the man's beauty that he forgot all his customer service skills.

    “Hi! Welcome to Panera Bread, what would you like?” Guillermo couldn't decide if he sounded normal or nervous. The closer the other got to his counter, the more he realized how tall he was. His mouth went agape.

    He's gotta be as tall as a horse! Guillermo briefly wondered what else about him was big, but he refrained on that line of thinking - for now.

    “Let's get lost, you can take me home. Somewhere nice, we can be alone.”

    Nandor squinted up at the menu, miffed that he didn't find anything appealing at first glance. What didn't help his concentration was the music playing. He liked it but he kept tuning into it when he didn't intend to.

    “Soooo, see anything you like? Uh, maybe?” Guillermo tried to sound chipper but it definitely read as awkward, given the guy was just staring at the menu and not saying anything about said menu. Nandor looked down at Guillermo with a mostly blank face, if not a little peeved looking. But his mind was somewhere else.

    Hm. Nandor darted his eyes up and down Guillermo. He could take me home, that is for sure.

    Only if he changed out of that tacky, elderly sweater though.

    “I am parched. What do you have to drink here at the-” Nandor waved his arm in a fluid motion to the menu, “Panera Bread.”

    That voice! He has a beautiful accent too! This can't be happening to me. I should pinch myself.

    “Well, we have coffee- ”

    “No.”

    Guillermo shifted his weight, not expecting such a reaction from the other man. “Uh, tea?” Nandor balled his fists in his jacket pockets and looked right at Guillermo's face. He tilted his eyebrows.

    “What kind of tea?"

    Guillermo leaned his shoulder back to look at the menu behind him. “ Oh, there's black iced tea, Passion Papaya green tea, and- ”

    “Ehm, no. Not those either.” Guillermo snapped his head back to Nandor, face twisted with irritation. His once charming accent almost made that interruption sound even more frustrating, somehow.

    Guillermo placed both hands firmly on the counter. “You didn't let me finish! Now, are you actually going to listen or do you just want to pick something!” Guillermo held his upset stare for a beat, then let his shoulders rest. He couldn't get fired for snapping at a difficult customer. Could he?

    “Sometimes, you might start a fight…”

    Nandor's eyes widened at the shorter man's outburst. Not just widened, lit up! He was pulled in by the aggression. He was sheepish to admit that he liked how it looked on the young man. He decided not to indulge.

    “I'm still sleepy, maybe I should get a coffee. What is your recommendation?”

    Guillermo let his elbows sit on the counter, still coming down from his irritation but felt more at ease. “So, all our options are up here, but I actually make my own drink. It's not on the menu but, uh, I could still make it for you.” Guillermo's voice went soft. He clapped his hands together, the only sound was the soft impact to his palms.

    Nandor nodded. “I'll take that.”

    Guillermo straightened. “Really? Okay! I'll add that to your order, and is that all? Or do you want to add something?”

    Nandor took out his wallet and cringed at the contents. “How much is the drink?”

    Guillermo looked up from his POS system. “It's three dollars. Is that okay?”

    Nandor counted each dollar, dejected. “N-yes, that is fine. A croixzeahnt as well, please.”

    Guillermo tried to hide his smile. “You mean a croissant?”

    Nandor's voice got sharp. “That is what I said.”

    Guillermo let a couple chuckles pass through, “Okay, okay. That'll be $5.05, sir.” Nandor let out a sigh that Guillermo could've sworn was more of a hiss, and Nandor started placing each dollar on the counter individually, they were all ones. Guillermo's once chipper customer service face fell- this guy was broke. He shouldn't have to give his last dollars away just to eat.

    “Hey, don't worry about it, ok? Look, I'll just buy it for you. You can pay for the drink and I'll pay for the croissant and I'll throw in a breakfast sandwich.”

    Nandor immediately started shaking his head, “No, let me pay for it. This is my order, it's my responsibility to pay.”

    Nandor and Guillermo got into a shoving match: Nandor kept pushing his handful of dollars at Guillermo, still refusing Guillermo's gesture, while Guillermo pushed them back repeating it was okay because he would pay.

    “Please sir, it's really okay. I want to help.” Guillermo really shouldn't, he had rent and bills to pay but even he was better off than this guy. Nandor froze, their eyes meeting again. He spoke like no one had ever done anything for him before. “Really?”

    Guillermo shuffled out his debit card from his pocket and lifted it to him. “Really. Now, just give me 3 dollars.” Nandor handed the money over, only touching the side of the dollars with two fingers. Guillermo cocked his head, confused as to why the man would hold the money that way but he shook it off.

    “OK! You're all set, I'll be back. You can sit anywhere while you wait.” Guillermo almost walked away but bounced back to the counter. “Oh! Sir, what's your name?”

    Nandor was twiddling his fingers together and circling a few chairs, undecided on where to sit. He heard the man call back to him and he snapped back to reality. “Nandor Shirazi, for the order.” He was still disoriented from snapping back to the present moment but he knew he just embarrassed himself.

    “I only needed your first name but, um, good to know!” Guillermo smiled. He went into the back and smiled wider, his lips curling up at the corners.

    “Nandor.” The name rolled off his tongue sweetly.

    His mind started weaving an imaginary web of scenarios. Every main genre of book and movie were on the table. Crime dramas, romantic comedies, vampire movies. Anything, and he would call out to his love interest, his heart full of yearning. Nandor!

    “Number 38, G-Man!”, a young man projected towards Guillermo, interrupting his train of thought. The man lifted a to-go bag to Guillermo. He pointed to the bag, tapping its order sticker.

    “Trent.” Guillermo's teeth gritted. Trent had a record of disrupting Guillermo while he was doing quite literally anything. Then, he finally processed the number that was on the bag.

    “Oh! This is the Nandor order right? I'll take that.” Guillermo snatched the bag and headed to the cashier counter.

    Trent stood in place, pinching the air where the bag was. “Yeah, man. That order.” He wondered why he tried to get his attention at all some days if Guillermo was just going to look like he hated him. Trent shrugged it off though, and went back to his station. A young blonde woman, around Guillermo's age, passed by Trent's station at that moment while carrying two pickup orders.

    “Hey, Trenton!” Her hair bounced as she walked, with cascading mermaid waves in a peroxide blonde color, it was pulled back into a high ponytail beneath her Panera Bread cap. Trent tapped her shoulder to get her attention. “Hey Sophie, go spy on Guillermo for me. I think he's trying to get a guy's digits.” Sophie shook the pick up orders in her arms, her mouth open with shock.

    “Omg! You're joshing me, right?” Sophie's voice was gleeful, this was by far the best thing that happened to her today.

    “I'm not joshing, look around the wall to the front counter.” Trent pointed a hooked finger to the corner of the wall.

    Sophie shuffled with the bags in her hands over to the corner and peeked around. “Trent! Guillermo is sooo making lovey-dovey eyes at him!” she was whispering but also squealing at the same time. “Ooo! If he doesn't score that man, I will! Grrrr!”

    Trent looked at the back of her head, melancholic. “Really, Soph?”

    She flashed her eyes at him for a moment before turning back. “Duh, that man is McSteamy hot, Guillermo doesn't stand a chance. Well, maybe he does. Do you think tall, dark and handsome types would like Guillermo?”

    Trent scrunched his face in thought while he cut bread at his station.

    “Ehhh, maybe. It's hard to say what someone's preference is by looks alone. But tall is Guillermo's type, I think.”

    Sophie giggled at the idea, “Well, if he does land a hottie then I'm happy for him! But if the worst comes to worst, then I'll take him! Hopefully he comes back.” She made her way through the side door, pushing it open with her hip, and to the outside parking spaces for pickup orders.

    Trent shook his shaggy hair, feeling a little disheartened. “Dang, why don't she ever think I'm hot?”

    Guillermo put on his best smile to call Nandor’s order out. He saw him sitting at one of the tables. Nandor was sitting upright but with one leg out, like he was preparing to leave at any moment, and his arms were on the table but sat stiff, like he didn't want them pressed against the table fully. He was sliding a large ring up and down his left index finger.

    “Nandor! Order for Nandor!”

    Nandor jutted his leg out and used it to pull himself out of the chair and walked over. He looked down at Guillermo, tracing his smile with his eyes.

    “Thank you.” Nandor bowed his head when he took the order from Guillermo.

    “It was no problem, like, at all.” Guillermo's chest was fluttering. Watching Nandor's hair spill over his shoulders when he bowed was like a religious experience. Despite his many conflicts with his religion, he felt like God finally listened to a smaller prayer of his.

    Nandor leaned against the counter, off to the side, and fished out his croissant to eat. Guillermo caught him mid bite. “So, Shirazi? That name is pretty unique.” Nandor's eyes ticked over to the other. Mmh?

    Guillermo raised his hand to face, chuckling. “Ha! I'm sorry! I just thought it was interesting.” Nandor swallowed the piece in his mouth while he thought hard about the comment.

    “Well, I suppose it could be. It's a regional surname, but there are about, ehh, 29,000 people with that name. To me it's kind of boring.” Nandor went in for another bite of his croissant. His mouth opened wide so Guillermo finally had a good look at his pointed canines. Guillermo's throat made an involuntary noise. God's giving me two prayers in one, Guillermo thought, or is that naive of me to think?

    Nandor heard the noise Guillermo made. He couldn't see why but he shrugged it off. He lowered his food, grabbed his drink, and took a sip.

    “Hey, this is not bad.” Nandor was pleasantly surprised by it. Using the drink, he gestured to his new acquaintance. “You make a vicious coffee, Mr. Panera Worker.” Nandor's smirk widened, showing off more of those teeth Guillermo had an affinity for. Guillermo felt like he was going to confess his love right then and there. Or run away. He could always deflect. His cheeks were warm, his blush must have been obvious.

    “Guillermo.”

    “Who's that?” Nandor's smile wavered, switching it for an awkward look of confusion. Guillermo poked his name tag. “Uh, my name. It's been on my name tag this whole time.”

    “Oohhh, that is a much better name than Panera worker!”

     Guillermo had to sit with that one. “Anyway, you know where I work, so where do you work?”     

    Nandor took a long sip of his drink, trying to mask his worried look, “my job, heh, my job is complicated. It's very flexible hours-”

    “You don't have one, do you?” Guillermo raised his brows.

    “No,” Nandor aggressively bit his breakfast sandwich, “It is not for the lacking of trying! It is just hard to keep a job.”

    Guillermo let out a sigh, apologetic for the man. “You seem hardworking, I'm sure you did great.” Guillermo patted Nandor's arm trying to comfort him, but Nandor seemed to lightly jerk his arm away.

    “I mean, the recession has been hard for all of us. It's hard to find a good paying job that's hiring. I've actually been thinking about finding a better job myself.” Guillermo pouted. He needed to find a better paying job soon.

    “Wait! You are looking for a new job!?” Nandor got excited, he might be able to twist this moment into an opportunity for himself.

    “Don't say it so loud! You want me to get fired?” Guillermo signaled him to lower his voice. Nandor got low, leaning over the counter.

    “Sorry. But I think this means we can help one another! You're looking for new work, I'm also looking for work, this is perfect!”

    “I can't just quit my job, though. I need to already have a backup job and a plan to quit this one.” Guillermo entertained Nandor’s idea, but Guillermo wasn't planning to quit for a while.

    “Well duh, Guillermo, but you can still find me- us- work.” Nandor almost slipped up, but he didn't think Guillermo noticed.

    Guillermo could tell that Nandor was trying to use him to get a job. But he honestly didn't mind. Times are hard and it's even harder for an immigrant to find good work, so Guillermo understood why Nandor would shoot his shot.

    “Uhh, yeah, we can try! Until we both find jobs, maybe we can hang out and talk about work? I mean, we definitely don't have to but-”

    Nandor smacked the counter, making Guillermo jump, “That's perfect! We will do the schmoozing, here.” Nandor rummaged through his inner jacket pocket and held out a card to Guillermo. Guillermo took it, reading the card.

    “Colin Robinson, Office Consultant. ParkPlay Inc.?” Guillermo's voice twisted upward, becoming increasingly more confused.

    Nandor batted his hand at Guillermo. “No it's- it's on the other side of the card. I had to use my housemates' business cards.” He muttered the last part out, running his hand through the loose strands of his hair. Guillermo turned over the card, seeing the handwritten number on the back.

    “Oh! Your number, heh, thanks. I'll defin-”

    Nandor crumpled up his Panera bag, now empty, and turned to the door. “Yes, ring me up when you would like to talk work.”

    Guillermo shook the card in his hand, he focused on watching him leave. “Yeah, work.”

    Nandor tossed the to-go bag in the trash on the way out. Smiling, he hummed the tune to the song in the Panera.

    “Mm, hm, my summer, summer boy.”