Work Text:
If anyone had told Frost that getting caught digging through the back alley dumpster led to getting employment and a place to live, he’d probably wonder why they were talking to him in the first place. But here he was, mopping off the vomit near the bathrooms at the Starlight Lounge, owned by one Kremy Lecroux.
“Frost!”
Frost stopped mopping and glanced up at his boss. “Yes, Mr- I-I mean…Yes, Kremy?”
“Good, you’re learning,” Kremy grinned and pointed to the unattended bar. “You’re on bartending duty until closing. We got a lot more guests tonight, so Gid’s gonna be helping Torbek. Think you can handle it?”
Years of fending for himself left him having to get used to a lot of things. But he’d like to think he’s accustomed to most of the club’s routine. And besides, it was only a few more hours until closing, and he took his medicine. He could handle it. Probably. But Kremy didn’t need to know that. So he nodded as he held the mop close to his chest. “I-I think so. I won’t let you down!”
“That-a-boy, Frost!” Kremy patted his shoulder. “Remember, folks won’t mind your age as long as their alcohol keeps coming. And you can keep cleaning to avoid any small talk.”
“Thank you…Kremy.” Sometimes it was hard not to call him ‘Mister’, but Kremy was insistent on the matter. Luckily, he said nothing about the others.
Tonight was the busiest he had experienced. Apparently, folks didn’t care if he was cleaning. They insisted on small talk. He didn’t care if some rando’s ex was getting married. What part of having his back turned to clean shot glasses screamed, ‘I’ll be your emotional support bartender tonight’? Kremy really ought to hire a bartender. Didn’t have to be a proper one either. Could have no experience and work part-time as long as they can open a bottle, pour a cup, and offer advice to any drunk crying at the counter.
Like the old human man who sobbed at the bar, swinging an empty bottle at anyone who sat next to him, maybe another bottle could knock him out? Anything to shut him up and ease the throbbing pain growing in Frost’s head.
“Sir, I think you've had enough.”
Frost jumped and straightened his stance. From the corner of his eye, Mr. Torbek stood across from the drunk human. Phew, he was addressing that guy, not him. But Frost kept still when the drunk turned to the laika.
“You don’t…HIC…you don’t tell me when-HIC! When I ‘ave ‘nough!” The guy threw his bottle at Torbek, barely missing as it shattered on the ground.
Mr. Torbek didn’t acknowledge the glass. Instead, he marched forward and grabbed the guy by the scruff of his shirt. “Alright, you’re outta here. Let’s go.”
“H-Hey! Watch the shirt, man!” The drunk tried to swing at Mr. Torbek, but the laika delivered a “soft” punch in the gut to render him harmless as he began to lead him out.
“Frost,” Mr. Torbek stopped and glanced back at the still clawderan. “Would you mind cleaning that mess up? We wouldn’t want Mr. K or any other guests to step on glass.”
“Uh, sure! No problem, Mr. Torbek!” Frost stumbled back to grab the broom and dustpan. “I’ll get right on it!”
Mr. Torbek grunted and carried on to take the knocked-out drunk outside. Frost went around and bent down to start sweeping. He eventually looked up from the glass pile and sighed in relief once he couldn’t spot the laika through the crowd. Mr. Torbek can be intimidating even when Frost isn't doing anything wrong.
“Oye, Frosty! Don’t tell me you’re still ‘fraid of old Torbek, are you?” The sound of a beer can opening with a loud hiss was a dead giveaway that Mr. Gricko was behind him. He looked back and, sure enough, the glowblin stood there with a huge grin and a can of off-brand beer in hand.
He lightly punched Frost’s shoulder and chuckled. “Ah, don’t let him get to ya, lad! Behind all that, he’s a real softie.”
“I believe you, Mr. Gricko,” Frost insisted, sweeping up the last bits of glass. “But I suppose it’s just one of those things I still need to get used to.”
“Give it time, give it time, you’ll see,” Gricko followed Frost back behind the counter to raid the fridge for a pack of Crispy Boys. “Gonna need all the boys I can handle if I wanna sing me best in the next act.”
“I wish you luck on that endeavor.”
“Don’t need luck when I got me trusty guitar!” Gricko cheered, downing the rest of his beer. He burped after the last gulp and tossed the can into the bin. “Don’t work too hard, lad. Here-”
He removed one of the Crispies from its pack, opened it, and handed it to Frost with a wink. “Everyone needs a good Crispy. Just don’t let anyone see ya drinking, alright?”
“Too late.” A red flash swiped Frost’s can as he turned around to see Mr. Gideon taking a long sip before setting it down. “Man, that’s good.”
“Hey! That Crispy was for Frosty, not you!" Mr. Gricko protested, though judging by the stumble and slur at the end, it wasn’t out of real anger.
“Well, tough shit. You know the rules,” Mr. Gideon crushed the now-empty can against his head and tossed it at Mr. Gricko’s head. “Frost can only have one can at breakfast-”
“When Kremy’s sleeping in,” Frost added, making the raizo laugh.
“Oh, come on!” Mr. Gricko groaned. “Kremy almost never sleeps in!”
“Damn straight! Now scooch over, I gotta grab something back there.” Mr. Gideon jumped over the counter and felt around underneath it with a concentrated expression until his eyes lit up at the sound of a click. “There it is!”
A compartment opened and dropped a laser gun. Frost blinked at the weapon. “Um, Mr. Gideon?”
“Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’m not shooting anybody,” Mr. Gideon assured as he pocketed the laser gun and gestured to one of the corner tables with a group of smug saurians. “Gonna settle a bet with those bounty hunters over there. Won't make too big a mess.”
Once Mr. Gideon disappeared into the crowd, Mr. Gricko nudged his legs. “Psst, Frosty.”
When he glanced down, an unopened Crispy appeared before him. Frost quietly accepted the can, much to Mr. Gricko’s delight. “Good lad, good lad!”
More guests who wanted drinks and chatter filled the rest of the night. Luckily, Kremy swooped in to handle the more talkative guests while Frost vigorously cleaned around the counter. Soon things died down, and fewer folks wanted drinks. And the ones who insisted either passed out on the counter or were tossed outside. By the time they closed up the club, he had a splitting headache.
Did he forget to take his medicine after all?
No, he remembered holding his bottle of pills earlier in his room. But, come to think of it, he was in a rush trying to get into the lounge before everyone else. He saw the way Mr. Gricko cleaned up, and he wasn’t going to let the glowblin beat him to the mop again.
Not wanting to bother Kremy or anyone else, he bid everyone good night and hurried to his room. He found the bottle resting on the bedside drawer and grabbed it to pop the lid open, only to find it empty. That wasn’t good. Logically, he had to ask Kremy if he had any more pills until he could properly refill his bottle. But it was already late, and he hadn’t unleashed any psionic outbursts…
Perhaps he could endure the pain for now, at least until morning.
Frost wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the headache remained painful, distracting, and exhausting. It luckily didn’t get worse, but it also didn’t get better. He wished he had passed out from the pain, though it proved useless. Was he going to have to bother Kremy after all?
He shut his eyes, concentrating on numbing the pain. His bed shook, and the bedside drawer suddenly toppled over.
Yes, he definitely had to go to Kremy.
Frost tip-toed through the empty lounge, assured by the loud and deep snoring that Mr. Gricko and Mr. Toberk were still sound asleep. He had to walk slowly, careful not to trip or bump into anything he couldn’t see. Maybe he'll get a flashlight or glow sticks, something fun to light up the room whenever it gets dark. It took some time and deep breaths in an effort not to set off any more blasts, but he eventually reached the door to Kremy and Mr. Gideon’s apartment.
First, he pressed his ear against the door—no sounds, no movement, all quiet. Next, enter the apartment. Despite his time on the streets, he never picked up lock-picking, so his claws were useless. But Kremy had mentioned hiding an emergency key somewhere near the door during the lounge tour. Frost felt around the borders, then the hinges, until his fingers pressed down on a button on one of the hinges. There was a small hiss, and then the head of a silver key rose. Perfect.
He slowly unlocked the door and held his breath when he pushed it open. Not a squeak or creak, not even when he closed the door behind him. The sitting lounge was the first thing he barely saw, but he noticed a dim light coming from the kitchen just ahead. He supposed someone was awake after all. Frost tiptoed through the sitting area when his ears twitched at a sudden sound. Low humming, in fact. But it was also soft, harmonic, and rather sweet. And it was coming from the kitchen. The closer he approached, the clearer the humming melded into lyrics.
“There is a fire within my heart, Huc-kle, ber-ry. Lit up one day by a striking match…” Mr. Gideon? “Burning for you, my dear.”
What’s a huckleberry?
An exasperated sigh interrupted Frost’s thoughts. “Really, Gid?”
Kremy? Frost spotted two shadows fused, just out of the kitchen. He had to tread lightly to avoid any possible hypothetical trauma for himself and the pair on the other side. He positioned himself in the shadows and peeked over the entryway.
Some of the kitchen lights were lit, but at a dimmer level. It was soothing. Kremy, in a purple silk robe, stood over the unlit stove with a greased pan and a bowl of batter on the counter. Hugging him from behind was Mr. Gideon, who didn’t have his shades, bandana, and shirt on, swaying him from side to side as he sang into his neck.
“Whether he loves or loves me not, sometimes it's hard to tell. Yet I am longing to share the lot of my beautiful huckleberry.”
“Distracting me will not make your pancakes cook any-Whoa!”
Mr. Gideon pulled Kremy away from the stove and into his arms as he led him around in a dance. “Huc-kle, ber-ry, give me your answer, do…”
Oh…Was Kremy the Huckleberry?
“Gideon Nathaniel Coal-” Kremy giggled, much to Frost’s shock, and playfully shoved Mr. Gideon’s shoulder.
The raizo only took that as a signal to dip Kremy down with a smirk.“I'm half crazy, all for the love of yooooou.”
He paused, his eyebrows moved up and down at Kremy, who rolled his eyes.
“It won’t be a stylish marriage,” Kremy mumbled, fighting his growing smile. “I can’t afford a limo.”
Mr. Gideon lifted Kremy back up into a twirl.“But you’ll look sweet, upon a seat of a motorcycle built for twoooo.”
The pair broke into laughter, Kremy shaking his head on Mr. Gideon’s chest, mumbling about how ridiculous the raizo acted. Frost felt his face flush. He’s never seen a display like that, especially not in his days in the street. It felt intimate, but not the heated, scandalous kind he’d accidentally stumble upon in the back alleys. This felt warm, almost fuzzy, yet freeing. If he hadn’t known better, Kremy and Mr. Gideon could’ve appeared to be flying. Lost in their own little world, but it didn’t matter as long as they held onto each other.
They only melted into that kind of intimacy when Mr. Gideon called Kremy ‘Huckleberry’. Was that a magic word or something? Sure, magic didn’t technically exist, but Mr. Gideon was always building something. Maybe this was an invention of his that they’re testing out. Either way, they shouldn’t be disturbed.
He should probably sneak back down to his room. Frost crept away from the entryway, tiptoeing to the exit until a sharp pain flashed through his head. He hissed, clutching his head and crouched down as he heard the wall shake and a frame fall beside him. Okay, so much for stealth, but surely no one-
“Frost?” Kremy’s voice spoke from the kitchen. “That you?”
Damn it.
“Y-Yeah…Don’t mind me, I’ll just-” Frost groaned, forcing himself up as Kremy rushed out to him with concern. Great, now their moment was interrupted.“I-I’m sorry.”
“You’re bleeding!” Kremy pulled a handkerchief from the pockets of his robe and began to wipe the blood from Frost’s nose. “What happened?”
No use trying to hide it. Better than them thinking he only snuck in to spy on them. “My…My head hurts.”
“For how long?”
Frost bit his lower lip.
“Frost?”
“...Since we closed up.
“That long?!” Kremy gasped. “What happened to the pills I gave you?”
“I didn’t have any more.” Frost hung his head down. “I thought I could’ve held on and not bother you until morning.”
“Frost…” Kremy sighed softly, “I don’t care what time it is, you come get me if you need your medicine. Your well-being is never a bother. You understand?”
Frost nodded, “Yes, Kremy.”
“Alright, you’re alright now.” He wiped the last bit of blood and led him into the kitchen. “Wait with Gideon, and I’ll be back as soon as I can with your medicine.”
With that, Kremy left for his office, leaving Frost with Mr. Gideon. They were quiet, barely looking each other in the eye. Did Mr. Gideon know he saw them dancing? If he did, he did a good job of not acknowledging it. Then the raizo finally broke the silence.
“So, Frost…Head giving you trouble?”
Frost sheepishly nodded.
“Well, Kremy might take a while,” Mr. Gideon turned around to light the stove and picked up the bowl of batter. “Want some late-night pancakes?”
“I-I don’t know if I should eat anything before-”
“You can!” Kremy’s voice shouted from the end of the hall. “Just no alcohol!”
“Well, you heard the boss.” Mr. Gideon snorted, scooping a ladle of batter. “Think you can handle a whole stack?”
Several stacked plates of pancakes later, they settled into a more comfortable silence. An awkward question was occasionally thrown with a short, simple response. Soon, Frost was picking at his last two pancakes. His headache throbbed at the many thoughts that began to bounce around his mind now that he knew Kremy was getting his medicine. Was Huckleberry a middle name Kremy never told him about? Or was it his real name, and only Mr. Gideon knew about it? Was it a secret code or an activation word that relaxes everyone in the vicinity? Would it relax him enough to cure his headache then?
“Huckleberry,” Frost whispered to himself. Nothing. His headache was still there.
“What was that?” Mr. Gideon asked with his mouth full, his eyes slightly wide.
“Nothing!” Frost quickly assured, stuffing his mouth with one of the pancakes. He gave a thumbs-up. “It’s very good.”
Mr. Gideon’s left brow rose, but then he shrugged and refocused on eating the rest of his pancakes. Huh. It didn’t make him all relaxed like it did when he said it to Kremy. Frost swallowed and sighed in defeat. Overthinking wasn’t going to get him anywhere at this rate. He had to know.
“Mr. Gideon, I have a question.”
“Oh yeah?” Mr. Gideon looked up and swallowed his fill. “Well, fire away, I reckon I might have an answer.”
Here goes nothing. “Why do you call Mr. Kremy ‘Huckleberry’?”
Mr. Gideon choked on the air and forced out some coughs. “Wha-What do you mean?”
“When I came in, I heard you referring to Kremy as your Huckleberry,” Frost explained, looking down at his last pancake. “You both looked so at peace and happy with each other when you did, I was wondering what significance it had. I’ve never seen two beings look at each other the way you look at each other.”
Mr. Gideon relaxed his stance and let out a breath. “Oh man, Krem’s gonna kill me if he finds out that you heard that.”
“Is it actually bad?” Frost stilled, his eyes widened. He hadn’t thought about that aspect. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know-”
“No, no! You’re okay, it’s not bad, I promise,” Mr. Gideon instantly reassured. “It’s just a special nickname I gave Kremy a while back, but he prefers to only hear it in private, that’s all.”
“Special nickname? Is there something wrong with his actual name?”
“Nah, kinda the opposite.” Mr. Gideon leaned back against his chair. “See, when you’ve worked together with someone as charming, smart, beautiful, and downright crazy as Kremy, you feel all sorts of emotions- the good kind. It’s like you found someone who complements you, who pulls you up, and accepts you as you are. And most of the time, those emotions get so overwhelming, you feel like you’re-”
“Flying?”
“Yeah! Exactly that. But then just calling them by their name isn’t enough. You gotta express those emotions, and suddenly you’re calling them all kinds of sweet nicknames that fit ‘em or remind you of your most favorite moments with ‘em.”
“I see.” Frost watched as Mr. Gideon became more relaxed and flushed. Like he was ready to burst and scream out to the world about his feelings for Kremy. It could be the exhaustion or the trick of what little light there was, but Frost swore he saw a little sparkle twinkle in the raizo’s eyes. “So why Huckleberry?”
“Oh man, where to begin?” Mr. Gideon chuckled. “It was back when we finally bought this place, we were celebrating…”
Two glasses full of whiskey clinked together, followed by laughter. The night was still young, but a raizo and a gorgonite were already close to being drunk off their minds.
“Can you believe it, Gid?” Kremy twirled around in the center of the space with his arms spread out.“We own this establishment! It’s ours!”
“Hell yeah, it is!” Gideon downed his glass to pour more whiskey in. “Any ideas how we can celebrate some more?”
Kremy stopped spinning, stumbling a bit as he hummed in thought.
“Well, I say, can’t think of anything- Wait!” His eyes lit up at the corner of the establishment as he rushed over and pulled out an old box. He eagerly opened the box, revealing a pile of old tapes and films.“Giiiideon, we can finally have a movie night with all this room! Let’s watch some movies!”
“Sure, man, anything you want.”
Kremy insisted on watching while they lay on the would-be dance floor with a projector showing every film that wasn’t damaged. They drank from a different bottle and can with each film until they played an old western film. They cheered for the badassery of the main leads, cursed out each villainous cowboy who dared harm an innocent, and shouted in awe with each showdown of gunfire.
The scene that made them speechless started with a simple line. “I’m your huckleberry.”
With their hands held tight, they watched the character named Doc pull the sickest move against that bastard Ringo. They cheered as loud as they could when Doc won.
Their cheers died down to a comfortable silence with the occasional comment until the end credits rolled. Kremy sprawled on top of Gideon’s lap and whispered, “Psst, hey Giiiid.”
“Yeah, Kremy?”
“I got some.”
Gideon raised an eyebrow and chortled. Kremy was definitely drunk.“Oh, yeah? And what exactly do you have?”
“Shhhh,” Kremy shushed him by placing his finger on top of Gideon’s lips, suddenly getting up into a lazy spin. “You just sit right here, and I’ll go get ‘em.”
He didn’t wait for Gideon to ask further questions and disappeared up the stairs, where they brought boxes of what little they owned into the upper apartment. It took Kremy five minutes to come back down with a small container and a pleased smirk as he sat back down next to Gideon.
“I got ‘em, Gid,” Kremy giggled, holding up the container to him. “I got little, tiny Docs.”
The statement alone sobered Gideon a bit to look down at what the drunk gorgonite brought. It was one of those freezer containers, unboxed, revealing a generous bundle of dark blue berries, some still attached to the stem branches and leaves. Huckleberries. He glanced back at Kremy, whose smirk never faltered even when he hiccuped from all the alcohol.
God, he was falling for this man all over again. And he absolutely adored him.
“Wow, Mr. Gideon…” Frost blinked at the end of that tale.
“Yeah, I know.” Mr. Gideon snickered and puffed his chest. “We’re quite the-”
“I didn’t realize you were such a simp.”
“Wha- Hey! I’m dedicated, there’s a difference!” Mr. Gideon sat up, offended but amused. “I’m not going to have some twink kid call me a simp! Just you wait, Frost, you won’t be saying that when you find your Huckleberry.”
Frost snorted. Now there was a thought. Who would even look at him the way Kremy looked at Mr. Gideon? It was a miracle he met Kremy and the others in the first place. And even if there was someone out there who could be his Huckleberry, where would they be? Certainly not the upper levels, and no one in the undercity caught his interest. In fact, nothing piqued his interest when it came to attraction. He shrank down.
“How will I know when I find the right partner?” Frost fidgeted with his fork. “The kind I’ll feel all those emotions and give sweet nicknames to?”
“Well, for some, they’ll know in an instant, and for others it takes time. God knows how long it took Kremy to let me call him that,” Mr. Gideon smiled, reaching over to lay his hand on Frost’s shoulder. The hold was heavy and firm, grounding Frost to the present. “But when the time’s right, you’ll know.”
“Are you sure?” Frost felt his cheeks heat up at the thought of finding someone who’d be his Kremy to his Gideon. Or was it the Gideon to his Kremy?
“Trust me, when the time comes, that somebody will be very lucky to fall in love with a fine fella like you. Just don’t overthink it and you’ll be alright.”
“Alright…” Frost nodded, feeling at ease. Underneath the rough exterior, weapons, and machinery, there was just a man who was simply devoted to his love, his Huckleberry. “Thank you, Gideon.”
[ ] [ ] [ ]
It’s been a few years since that night, and Frost opened his designated locker to grab his bottle of pills. He uncapped it to pop one pill in his mouth. After putting the cap back on, he tucked the bottle and gave it three taps to ensure it was in his pockets. His phone buzzed from his other pocket, revealing a message from Kremy to meet in the lounge for a last-minute, pre-opening meeting. Probably to scold Gricko and Gideon once again for trying and failing to start a karaoke night, only for it to end with DJ Krazy Kewl singing the whole night.
He tapped the point of his new light-up sneakers, his tail wagged just a bit at the color lights that illuminated at the beat. Perfect. Before he headed off, he went over to Torbek’s room, where he heard the sound of a sandbag being pummeled to oblivion. If the laika was training, he definitely had his phone on silent.
“Hey, Torbek!” Frost knocked on the door. “Kremy called for a meeting at the lounge. He wants us there now.”
The punching stopped, and the door opened. Torbek peeked out to make a firm nod. “Thank you, Frost. I’ll be right over.”
Frost returned the nod and hurried back to the locker room, where Gricko looked up from his phone, eagerly greeted him, “Oye Frosty! You heard about this meeting we’re supposed to have?”
“Yes, I just told Torbek about it and am heading over now.” He walked along with the glowblin to the lounge. “You wouldn’t happen to know the nature of this meeting, would you?”
“Weeeell, you didn’t hear this from me, but…” Gricko whispered with a smirk. “I overheard Gideon talking to Kremy about interviewees, so me thinks we might have a new co-worker in our lovely establishment.”
“As long as they’re not another performer and clean decently, I’m not opposed to the idea.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Gricko gasped in horror. “I thought you enjoyed DJ Krazy Kewl’s performance? He says he’s got a whole new remix to show off later.”
“I can’t wait.”
They reached the lounge, cleaned and empty of guests for the time being, where Gideon sat by the bar working on another gadget.
“Gideon!” Gricko called out, racing to one of the chairs to sit next to him. “Where’s our big boss man? He called for this meeting.”
“He’s finishing up, but he’ll be right here soon,” Gideon said, looking up from what he was working on, noticing Frost’s sneakers. “No boots?”
“They’re not for me. But these, on the other hand…” Frost explained, tapping his sneakers to show off their glow. “They add a little pop.”
Gideon snorted and shook his head until Gricko slapped his arm. “Let the lad enjoy his sneakers! Frosty has his own sense of style.”
Torbek soon joined them, noticing the lights on Frost’s sneakers. “They are certainly something.”
Frost simply shrugged and sat down to drink a Crispy Boy. The others could tease all they want. He liked his sneakers, and no one can take that from him. The front doors of the lounge opened, and in walked Kremy, looking rather pleased with himself.
“Gentlemen, I assume you’re all wondering why I called you all here hours before we open up the Starlight?”
“A little bit.”
“I am quite curious, yes, Mr. K.”
“Stop stalling and tell us, you monster!”
“Shut up, Gricko, and let Kremy tell ya!”
“Thank you, Gid. Now, it is my extreme pleasure to introduce you to our new bartender,” Kremy lifted his cane and pointed to the entrance. “Meet Blarbie.”
On cue, a pink oozoid with two ponytails tied with hot-pink scrunchies, dressed in a pink sweater over a white tank top and a green skirt, skipped inside with a bright smile. “It’s nice to meet you all, I’m Blarbie, and I look forward to working with you!”
Frost felt himself straighten his posture as the others welcomed her and introduced themselves. His voice suddenly became lost, his head cloudy rather than the usual pain or numbness. He blinked and shook his head. Maybe he was just intimidated. That’s it, she was new, and he was reasonably nervous about her. That’s all. He barely managed to wave and mumble his name to her before Kremy led her through the lounge tour. But he didn’t miss the curious smirk the gorgonite snuck at him.
‘Looking a little red there, Frosty.’
Stupid mind-reading. Frost glared at Gideon, who wore a smug look. Nope, he wasn’t going to dignify that with a response.
Since Blarbie was the new bartender, that meant she was working together with Frost. The doors opened, and they got right to business. So far, Frost has gotten away without speaking to Blarbie, simply pointing her to where specific alcohols and beers were. It helped that the guests caught her attention when they began their dreaded small talk. Eventually, the requests died down, and the pair were cleaning up the counter to pass the time.
His hopes to remain distracted were interrupted when Blarbie cleared her throat and asked. “Frost, right?”
He gulped and nodded. She looked down at his sneakers. “Do those light up?”
Oh? “Uhh, yes…yes they do.” She returned the nod as she kept her gaze on them. He forced out a cough and asked, “Do you want me to show you?”
“Oh, sure! If you don’t mind, that is.” Frost stomped on his shoes once, showing off a green light. Then another to show the color collision of lights. Blarbie’s eyes widened in awe as she gasped and clapped her hands. “Whoa! Do they do pink?”
“One moment.” He clicked his shoes through a few other colors until they landed on a bright pink. “Ta-da.”
“That’s really cool,” She complimented. “You got great taste, Frost. You know that?”
“I-I’m glad you think so,” Frost sheepishly said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was beginning to think I was the only one who saw the allure of these sneakers… You could say they light up this place.”
Why did he say that? He internally cringed. That was the kind of joke Gricko made whenever he got too hammered. He’ll be lucky if Blarbie doesn’t quit right after this shift and never come by here again. However, before he dove deeper into his despair, a string of soft laughter snapped him out of it. Beside him, Blarbie laughed so hard she wrapped her arms around her waist and had a bit of tears at the corners of her eyes.
It was beautiful.
“Oh, Frost,” She giggled, taking deep breaths to regain control. “I think we’re going to get along just fine.”
When the time’s right, you’ll know.
“Yeah, I believe we will.”