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p ë r k i m

[Albanian]: A remarkable occurrence of events, without apparent causal connection.

UNUSUALLY, I WAS manning the cash register for the night. Darnell had called in sick, and as always, everyone else was rather preoccupied; cooking, waitressing, dishwashing, as well as all the other joys that came with our job of service.

My hands barely took another roll of change from Jenna, before I caught sight of a young woman walk—or rather, tumble into the restaurant.

The attention was caught almost instantly.

She swayed a bit, before steadying herself on her heels. Quite immaculately, if I might add. With a raise of her chin, she ignored any stares, wrapping her knee-length jacket around herself as she made her way over. Her eyes were hidden behind shades, and I could do nothing but slot the money in, while I waited for her to get to me. Especially if she wasn't going to pick a table.

Which I already knew she wouldn't.

She lifted her body and settled herself on the stool, afterwards, momentarily gripping the counter for balance.

"One shot—shit. A glass of water," she spoke up. "Or a bottle, any way you serve it...Just water, please."

I fought to hide my smile.

After mumbling an "excuse me," I reached into the nearby fridge and brought out a cold bottle. I slid it towards her with an optional glass. "Water, on the rocks," I announced.

She groaned. "That obvious?"

I scrunched up my nose in a false attempt at pondering, and then closely pinched my thumb and index finger for effect. "Just a smidge."

"Shit," she mumbled once more. Her fingers kept attempting to loosen the bottle cap with miscalculated roughness. "Screw it, anyways. Screw him."

Aha. Now, I figured we were getting to the reason for her little escapade with more than one too many drinks.

I was just about to offer to open the bottle for her, but she apparently got the hang of it just then, and tossed the cover aside. She raised the container and emptied over half its content in a few long gulps. Not a drop trickled down her chin.

She undoubtedly was a mess right now. Nevertheless, I didn't think I had seen someone handle it all in a way that was still oddly...classy.

Lengthy, brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, slightly obscuring her face, along with her dark glasses. I subtly eyed her attire, and came to the conclusion that she must have been quite well off.

"I think you should finish the—"

"I'm a good girlfriend, you know?" She cut me off. "I gave—I've always given that moron everything. And then he thinks he has the right to do this to me? He seriously thinks he can fuck me up? Who the hell—" She choked on a burp. "Who the hell does he think he is?"

I offered her an empathetic gaze. A broken heart really was one of the worst burns.

I had never really been through heartbreak—well, I guess I had. But not like hers.

Her lips parted as though she wanted to speak again, but then decided against it as she lifted the bottle to her mouth once more. She downed it all this time.

"Lucas is an idiot," she continued to rant. Still, I didn't miss the way her lips quivered at the mention of said boyfriend's name. "H-he's such an idiot."

"I don't doubt it," I agreed. In her state, everything she said had to be right. When her head was clear—then, she could argue the facts with someone who knew the details of the situation.

She removed her shades in agitation, and I could finally get a clear view of the hazel eyes that had been obscured thus far. Her irises were glazed with the aftermaths of alcohol, and her lids looked like they would shut close at any moment.

"Isn't the water supposed to help?" Her brows pinched closer in quite frankly, an adorable way, her words now coming out rather slurred. "Why isn't it bloody helping?"

Her head slumped on the cool surface in front of her, and for a moment, I was actually scared she would fall off the stool.

"The water will help, but it won't necessarily cure this. Much less right now," I said to her, my voice much slower this time. Then, I paused, deciding to proceed with caution at my next question. After all, we were merely strangers. "Just how much did you have to drink?"

Seconds passed before a muffled response came from her.

"Six...seven..." She trailed off. "No, I think—I think eight. And, uh..."

Alright. She was wasted, and that was all there was to it.

"I don't feel so good," she confessed soon after, raising her head now as she struggled to keep herself upright. Her focus—or at least, what was left of it—stayed on my face.

"Is there someone I can call for you?"

"No," she immediately protested, before she let out another exasperated moan. "O-okay, yes. Dammit. I think I'm gonna fall..."

Instinctively, I told her to grab on for a bit, before I hurriedly walked around the counter.

I was one to be apprehensive about sudden body contact, but I didn't think much of it when she immediately put an arm around me, reflexively releasing more of her weight.

She hiccupped. "Ooh, you're quite strong."

I let out a harsh breath, unexpected as the sudden load was. "Why thank you. I pride myself on being Bruce for the weekends."

She burst out laughing, and I didn't need to look to know a bunch of heads had turned in our direction. Great.

"Um, how about that person I can call for you?"

"Oh, yes!" She slapped a hand on the counter, the thought seemingly reoccurring to her. "Call my brother." As soon as the words left her lips though, she frowned. "Ugh, can't we just call an Uber? Bri is the biggest sour sport, I'm telling you."

"Well, I have to say your sour sport's the safer option."

She was down from the stool now, leaning against me as my other arm remained secured around her waist. She kept making loud noises and grumbling incoherently while I tried to keep us steadied.

We must have made quite the sight.

Magdalena was on her way back from retrieving an order, and her lips immediately curved downwards in disdain upon observing us.

"Get a room," she hissed. Her pointed stare was more than directed at me. "We're not a bar, and you know we have freaking customers, Cass."

I rolled my eyes. Of course, she was much too eager to grab a chance to point out my faults—a trait that didn't allow her realize she was, in fact, referring to a customer with that attitude. I would have expected nothing less from her much too overbearing rear end.

"Careful not to add all that bitterness into their drinks, Magdalena," I muttered wryly. "And since you're obviously not blind, you can see I'm taking care of it."

Her eyes narrowed into slits. Magdalena liked being called her full name, as much as she liked using a straw to sip on community toilet water. It was always either Mag or Maggie; apparently, she found both abbreviations much more appetizing.

And those she always seemed intent on feeding, I had never been willing to find out about. Neither did I possess even a flicker of interest in her love life, or whatever it was she had going on.

After struggling with her open mouth—most likely deciding on whether or not it would be wise to curse me out right here, right now—she scoffed.

"Whatever. Just be fucking quick about it."

With that, she made her way into the kitchen, stringing along the bad energy with her.

My attention was immediately regained by the woman I was still trying to balance along with myself.

"I don't like that one," she whispered directly into my ear. "Pfft. Look at that hair. I mean, goddamn Morgana rocked it better."

I offered her a smile. "You might be drunk off your heels, but you've got your head screwed on straight."

She snickered, her shoulders vibrating as she just went on in almost hysterics. With a misstep, she nearly sent us toppling over, and it was in that moment, Jenna waltzed out of the kitchen carrying a tray. She immediately cast me a curious glance upon taking in the situation, but I only gave her a confirming nod, signalling the fact that I could handle it, and she went on her way.

"Okay. Now, how about this brother?" I sputtered out. In her platforms, she was already slightly taller than I was, and she only seemed to be getting heavier. I suspected her previously feather light control over her body was long gone now. "Where's your phone?"

"My what?"

"Your phone," I repeated. "Where's your cellphone? We have to call your brother to come get you."

"Oh yeah," she drawled. "It's in my purse—my pocket—" She hiccupped again, and then all of a sudden, her hazy eyes widened. "Wait, you ever wondered what it would—what it would be like, if we just, like tied our stuff to our bums? Like, our naked bums?"

I pursed my lips in thought, before shaking my head. "Actually, I haven't. Although I'd root for you if you tried it." With an amused grin, I tried my first guess out of her options, which was the latter. Using my freer hand to search through her jacket pockets, I was silently impressed I didn't find it there. It would have been all too easy to have her phone fall off, or get swiped.

I tried again in her pants pocket, and stifled a sigh when she squirmed like a little girl; she went on to tell me not to get too close to her lady parts. Now, her drunkenness had full on transitioned into a time lapse back to childhood.

I was relieved, and thankful when I finally felt the hard edges that undoubtedly belonged to a cellphone. Tactfully, I pulled it out, careful not to lose concentration as well as my stability—which in turn, was hers.

"Gotcha," I called out once the mobile device was fully in my grasp. I tapped the screen, and briefly cast her a sideways glance when I caught sight of the lock display. It was a picture of her grinning from ear to ear as she sidled up to a blonde haired man. His arms were protectively wrapped around her, frozen lips tenderly brushing her cheek.

It was undoubtedly said Lucas, said idiot, and said moron.

Well, at least, he wasn't a bad looking one.

"Fingerprint or pass code?"

"One three zero six zero four," was her response. My fingers obediently followed each number and soon enough, the phone was unlocked.

"Brother's name?"

"Bri...Brian," she answered, but I didn't miss the rather choked sound of her voice. I took the initiative to look at her once more, and observed the beads of sweat clinging to her forehead like earthen pearls. A flaky paleness had also taken over her skin. At least, more noticeably than I could have pinned before.

"I think I'm gonna throw up," she rasped.

Oh, shit.

Thinking fast, I decided it would be best to take her inside—to staff quarters. Shawn would definitely grill me about my decision, but this girl didn't need any more attention than she clearly had already gotten.

"Try choking it down for a minute, 'kay?"

And so, I struggled with nearly both our weights as I led her into the staff's bathroom. Stumbling past the front of kitchen, I felt the numerous stares on me as I led a customer into the restricted area. I ignored Walter's attempt at offering to help with a snappy I'm on it.

We got in, and I left her in one of the cubicles after she repeatedly assured me she would be fine. I still needed to call her brother, anyway.

I stepped out of the bathroom, a little breathless, while I searched her contacts. Still, instead of a Brian, I found a cheesy old brother of mine.

I dialed immediately, not even bothering to think about the fact that she could have more than one of them.

After about three rings, the person on the other side picked up.

"What is it, Lauren? You know I'm working."

Well, I had finally bagged a name. "Um, this isn't her," I quickly said. "Your sister's currently a little tipsy. So, I figured you should come get her. I'm a waitress at the restaurant she's in."

The line went silent for a few seconds, before my ears picked up the sound of his bedraggled sigh.

"Define a little tipsy."

I shrugged. "She's wasted."

He cursed under his breath. "She knows much better than to pull a stunt like this." Truthfully, it was a bit of a challenge not to pay attention to the mere sound of the man's voice. It was a richly deep sound, more like a low—albeit, frustrated hum that made me realize, I really might have just interrupted him from some very tedious business. Still, his sister had to be much more important than all of that...right?

"Restaurant and location?"

"Haven," I answered. "And it's just around—"

"Oh, I think I know where that is," he pointed out. "Please just keep her stable. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"No problem."

The call was cut off as soon as the two words tumbled out of my mouth, and I nearly wondered if he even heard them at all.

I sighed and shoved the cellphone in my pocket, before deciding to head into the kitchen.

"Well, you certainly look like you're having an eventful night." Gabby's voice was the first thing I could register immediately I entered the fairly large space.

"You have no idea." I groaned. But then, like an epiphany, I realized I had left the cash register unattended for about ten minutes straight. Customers paid us upfront with either cash, or their cards. Regardless, a good number of others could be getting take out, and the former circumstance still required having someone to safely store all the money.

"Shit, shit, shit. Scott is going to light my balls on fire!" I was already on my way back out when I felt Gabby's hand wrap itself around my arm.

"You have no balls," she deemed it fit to remind me. Slight amusement danced in her bold, green eyes as she shook her head. "And Walt's already covering for you."

I placed a hand to my chest and let out a breath. "Bless him."

"Uh-huh," she agreed. "Now, what was that all about? Shawn might leave your nonexistent balls alone about the counter, but he might not be so lenient when he finds out a stranger—rather, a customer's holed up in staff quarters."

"She needs it. She's drunk as hell." I sighed. "Breakup...I think."

Gabby made a face, absentmindedly turning in the direction I was coming from.

"Love's a menace."

"Agreed." Exasperated, I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. "Her brother's on his way. And since Walter's such a darling, I'll be right back."

__________

About half an hour had passed since the phone call to Lauren's brother. And for now, we were all waiting in a mixture of exasperation and amusement for him to arrive.

She wasn't bad company, and thankfully, the vomit incident was a false alarm. Still, we had less than an hour until we closed. It wasn't necessarily of help that today was also a rush.

I heard her let out a streak of rambunctious laughs, and instinctively looked over my shoulder. She was currently sprawled out on a chair, still totally out of it as she listened to one of Shawn's infamous college stories.

He found them hilarious, and apparently, so did she. On the other hand, I found them explicitly concerning.

Not to mention, the two had become best friends in less than thirty minutes.

True to my expectations, Shawn wasn't very happy when he found out about my adventures for the night. However, once he got better wind of the story, he rather gave me a pat on the back.

And all of that, ultimately led to the little concoction of a friendship the pair had gotten webbed in. It honestly seemed as though she was in better hands now.

Currently, I had fully given up the register, trustfully letting Walter handle things as I aided Gabby in the kitchen. As usual, the aroma of spices, as well as the ingrained familiarity of grease and bubbling stove ware, wafted through the atmosphere.

I exhaled in relief, as the last of the meatloaf special was done for the night. The orders had been coming in like crazy, and it took the expected toll.

Still, my relaxation was acutely short lived, as it was just then, Walter rushed into the room. His gaze seemed to shift all over the place before it landed on me.

"The brother," he said to me. "Her brother's here."

Finally.

"Thanks, Walt!" I hollered as he disappeared back out. I took off my apron, and wiped my wet fingers on a napkin to dry before I followed in his footsteps.

I made my way to the register, ready to bring Lauren's brother in. But I nearly stopped short when I caught sight of the man standing on the opposite side of the counter.

My brows knitted in confusion as I tried to pinpoint where I had seen the face before. With his tousled dark hair and build, he cut a rather looming figure. Especially over a my-sized Walter.

"Good evening," I said upon getting to them, and his focus was immediately drawn in my direction.

His eyebrows pulled together in a crease as soon as he saw me, and it all clicked as I finally knew that in fact, I had seen him sometime.

Identical face, same pair of tired eyes. He was the sleeping stranger from a couple of weeks before.

And now, he didn't look all that different either. He was sporting a plain black shirt drawn up to his elbows, and matching dress pants; all hinted at the fact that he did most likely stumble out of work to make it here.

"I think I've seen you somewhere," he pointed out.

"You have," I answered with a polite smile. Still, I didn't think I wanted to divulge all the details about our first meeting—or rather, the lack of it out here, and right now. Not when he had more pressing matters to get to. "Your sister's inside. You can use the back exit for privacy."

He nodded. "Thank you." But then, his look shifted before he added, "Did she order anything, or...?"

"Just a bottle of water," I told him, before waving my hand in a noncommittal gesture. "And don't worry about it. It's on the house."

"Oh, no. That's really not necessa—"

"Really, I insist." I brushed him off. "Now, just come with me."

Without waiting for a response, I turned around and soon heard his footsteps begin to trail my own. It was a short walk to the kitchen, so I didn't even expect to hear him speak again, just as I was about to head in.

"You're the nosy parrot from that night, aren't you?"

My head responsively whipped in his direction. I wasn't exactly sure why, but I figured I expected him to have at least, a small smile on his lips at the recollection of what I had called myself.

Still, I was met with a rather blank stare, his expression a little questioning as though he really was waiting for confirmation.

And so, I gave him one.

"I am," I answered before making my way in.

It was like magnet to metal, the way all pairs of eyes reflexively turned to my frame. I almost called them out on why they were basically staring at me slack jawed, but it was then it hit me.

The attention wasn't for me, but rather, what I dragged in.

Magdalena was currently heading out to serve another order, and I internally shook my head at the manner in which her eye balls nearly bulged out of their sockets, lips slightly parted as she regarded the man behind me.

Alright. To be fair, this wasn't a usual occurrence. Still, I sincerely hoped she wouldn't get all that drool in the food.

I realized Shawn was no longer present, and with a cough on my part, things slowly went back to normal. All the gazes redirected their focus while I led him to his sister, who was now dozing off on the chair in the corner.

I gently tapped her arm.

"Lauren." I tried to wake her, but she only stirred, afterwards, mumbling something unintelligible.

"Don't bother, I'll just carry her," her brother readily decided. I quietly observed how he didn't even bat an eyelid upon taking in the situation. Although something told me dear Lauren would still get quite the talking to when she was sober.

I took a step back and watched him tactfully hook his sister's arm around his neck, before he slowly pulled her off the chair altogether. He hoisted her up, and I spied the veins on his forearms duly stretch from action, before quickly tearing my eyes away. The movement caused Lauren to groan and mutter another drunken slur.

"The exit."

My brain finally caught up to me and I nodded, swiftly advancing towards the door before I held it open for them. The chilly, night breeze whipped my skin immediately.

Apparently, Lauren's eyes opened as he carried her out, and I caught her shoot a lopsided grin in my direction.

"Bye, Bruce."

I chuckled and offered her a small wave. "Bye, Lauren."

"That's your name?"

I blinked at first, and then I realized the question came from him.

"Nah, it's Cassidy," I corrected him with a little laugh. Afterwards, I shot Lauren a wink. "Bruce is only for the weekends."

His brow arched, and admittedly, his puzzlement was a bit of an adorable look. All the while, his sister only childishly giggled.

Most likely tired of us both though, he gave a nod without any further explanation, and fully let himself out.

I was about to close the door, but with a short cough, he stopped and looked my way.

"Thanks for all your help, Cassidy. Have a goodnight."

I couldn't help but smile at how formal he was being.

"You're welcome, and goodnight, Brian."

I didn't even realize it until his name had slipped past my lips. We never exactly introduced ourselves, and I easily just referred to him as though we actually knew each other.

Still, he thankfully thought nothing of it, and nodded once more before walking away. I found myself staying to watch him disappear around the corner with his sister in his arms, all the while convincing myself, that the increased chill was from the night air, and the night air alone.