The place was packed.

It had been a while since Seth had seen The Grubbery this busy. Every table was filled, with people constantly coming and going as if they wanted to be in his way as he tried to take orders, deliver orders, and clean the tables.

Usually Tripp helped him with this, but the owner had sequestered himself behind the counter. He took payment, chatted with customers, and while he seemed to be busy with someone every time Seth looked, Seth got the sense that Tripp was taking it easy. It was like the man was purposefully letting Seth shoulder the majority of the work.

Seth told himself it was fine, that Tripp deserved a break after running the diner on his own for a week, but he couldn't help a small thread of resentment from forming. He hadn't slept, or at least, he didn't think he did, because he felt drained and achy like he'd just dragged himself through a hundred-mile run. Tripp, on the other hand, was his usual chipper self, all bright-eyed and bushy tailed.

"Hey! Hey, kid!"

The rude shout made Seth stiffen his shoulders, but he turned around, a pleasant smile firmly pasted in place.

The greasy man at the nearby table waved him over. "Gimme another, yeah?"

Seth's eyes dropped to the empty beer glass. It was the third one. The man leaned towards him, releasing a fetid blast of sour breath as he spoke. "Better make it two, yeah?"

"Okay," Seth said, though he wasn't sure if it was okay. This guy had been tipsy when he first wandered into the diner, and now he was treating this place like a bar.

He headed to the counter, pausing only to snag some empty dishes on a recently evacuated table.

Tripp had just finished ringing a couple through, and was actually free for once. Such convenient timing.

"That guy wants more beer," Seth said, and set the dishes on the counter. Tripp would bring them into the kitchen. "He's kind of drunk already."

Tripp looked past Seth's shoulder for a moment. Then he turned and pulled a glass from the overhead rack. "Tell him this is the last one. If he has any complaints, he can come see me."

"Okay." Once the glass was full of frothy amber liquid, Seth took it back to the table.

"Hey, there you are!" The man greeted him like a long-lost friend.

Seth set the glass on the table. "Boss says that's the last one."

"What?"

Seth repeated himself, a little louder this time. He was aware of the trio of young women watching from a table over, and felt the first hints of a stupid flush heating his ears.

"But I asked for two," the guy said, and he suddenly sounded forlorn. He looked at the glass, and reached out to cradle it protectively in both hands.

It was better than shouting and being rude, Seth decided, but it was no less awkward. "Sorry."

The man grunted and stared into his beer. He seemed to forget Seth was still standing there. There was no point in hanging around any longer so Seth turned, intending to grab a wet rag and wipe the empty table down.

"Excuse me!"

Frustration rose, but he bit it down. One of the women waved at him, as if he couldn't figure out that the person calling out to him wasn't seated right beside him. Smile growing strained, he asked, "What is it?"

"Can we get some extra napkins, please?"

He glanced at the counter. There was a little dispenser full of them, available for public use. It was also barely more than 8 steps away. All three women gave him dazzling smiles. He wasn't in the mood to be dazzled.

"Sure," he said anyway, and went and got them their napkins. They rewarded him with a giggle and chorus of cute thank-yous, as if they were high schoolers rather than working-class adults. His face reddened against his will, which only made them titter.

He left them as quickly as he could without making it seem like he was hurrying, and then set to cleaning the table. Why couldn't Tripp look after this section like he usually did? Seth preferred working in the kitchen. It was quiet and Jake rarely spoke or interrupted him.

The bells hung over the door jangled. Seth glanced over. Four men squeezed inside. They were big men, with leather jackets, jeans, and tattoos. Confidence clung to them like a second skin as they took a quick look around. They spotted the only empty table, which Seth was just finishing up with.

As a unit, they headed over. Seth felt a stab of anxiety - these guys looked dangerous, like they were part of a gang or something - and he wondered if they'd punch him if he didn't get out of their way.

"Can we sit here?" One of them addressed him in a friendly tone. He wore a blue bandana over his bald head.

"Yeah," Seth quickly moved back from the table. "Just finished cleaning it."

"Thanks."

"Appreciate it, man," another said, flashing a quick smile.

The four of them settled around the table, which looked absolutely dwarfed by them. They barely had room for their elbows. Seth watched, feeling slightly confused. These guys... seemed almost nice.

"Can I get you anything?" He asked.

"Water all around," Mr Bald answered. "I heard this place had a mean burger. That so?"

Seth relaxed a little and gave a small smile. "It's the meanest."

"Then that's what'll have."

The others followed Mr Bald's lead, and Seth went over to the counter to pass the order on. Tripp was organizing a stack of receipts - the same stack he organized ten minutes ago, Seth was sure of it. Was the guy running out of things to do, or what?

He pressed his lips together, but didn't say anything. Instead, he went around the counter, stuck his head through the door and called out, "Four burger specials, please."

Jake was running the deep fryer, making a fresh batch of fries. He only grunted in response, but Seth knew that in about ten minutes, Jake would have four plates ready to go.

When he headed out, two tables had cleared, their occupants lining up at the counter to pay. After getting the four gang members their water, Seth grabbed the rag and went to clean off the tables. He was in the middle of the second table when snickering caught his attention. Pausing, he looked up.

There was a table of teenage punks sitting behind Drunk Guy. Two boys and a girl, all in black with more buckles than necessary. The girl wore so much makeup that she probably would need a hammer and chisel to chip it off later. One of the boys had a mullet with its ends dyed neon green and the other had a nose ring.

Seth had served them their food earlier, and his impression of their fashion choices hadn't improved at all since then.

Right now, Mullet Kid grinned and loaded up a piece of chicken into a spoon. With his friends giggling their support, he catapulted the chicken with perfect accuracy. It landed in the Drunk Guy's hood.

Drunk Guy didn't even notice. He hunched around his beer, muttering under his breath.

Seth stared in total disbelief. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed it. How juvenile could people get?

"Let me," Nose Ring grabbed the spoon from Mullet Kid. He loaded it with half melted ice cream. His friends grinned, while the girl looked delighted with the idea.

Seth was not delighted. As awkward as the drunk guy was, he didn't deserve the petty cruelness of a bunch of kids. Before he knew what he was doing, he walked over to the table of idiots.

Nose Ring paused, spoon still loaded. He smirked. "Yes?"

Both the girl and Mullet Kid stopped snickering, and fixed Seth with cool stares. The disdain couldn't have been more obvious. They looked at him like he was a bug beneath their notice, with just a hint of amusement that he dared to buzz too close to them.

Seth frowned. That look was all too familiar. It ground at his patience, and grated at his nerves, which were already raw to start with.

"Are you done with your meals?" he asked, because he couldn't quite bring himself to tell them to stop it right now.

"Nope," Nose Ring sneered. "So you can run back to doing dishes or whatever it is you do here."

The girl's lips curved. She shifted in her seat, gaze shifting to Nose Ring.

Seth glanced at their table. There wasn't much food left on the plates - they clearly ate their fill - but there was more than enough for ammunition.

His stomach tightened. "I see." He looked at Nose Ring. The smugness in those eyes dug into him. It was like looking at Ervante, the greasy, all knowing arrogance. Or his sister, with the same superior attitude as she slowly crushed him beneath her heel.

A strange feeling rose up, heady and thick. It coiled in his belly like a viper. He wasn't sure what it was, but was too tired to fight it or even care. Maybe he was still off balance from what Batin had done to him just a few hours ago.

Words formed on his tongue, fed by thoughts he didn't feel like holding back. "I'll bring you a rag," he calmly said, "so you can clean your mess when you're done."

He stepped back, intending to turn and leave because just looking at these punks made him annoyed.

Nose Ring's eyes instantly went flat, the only warning before he surged out of his chair. "What did you say?"

Seth stilled. He had to tilt his chin up, because Nose Ring was surprisingly tall. Which was odd, because Seth was used to the opposite.

No, not me. Severance.

"Should I bring a pail of water as well?" His mouth asked.

His eyes widened at the same time Nose Ring's did. He wasn't sure who was more surprised, because what the heck was he saying? Antagonizing these punks was a bad idea!

Nose Ring's face twisted into an ugly caricature of itself. He threw the spoon on the table and slipped a hand into his pocket. He came out with a little switchblade, which he flipped open.

"Say that again." His tone was low and full of dark promise. The girl gasped, but there was excitement all over her face. The idea of conflict apparently attracted rather than repelled her.

"You did it now, stupid," Mullet Kid sneered.

Seth looked down at the knife. The kid was smart enough to hold it between them, so that their bodies blocked the view of it from everyone else in the diner. But his grip was all wrong. No one held a weapon in a ham-fisted upwards grip like that.

Maun would laugh his head off if he saw this.

Seth lifted his gaze to Nose Ring's face. The kid looked mean all right, with a sneer curling his lips and a cruel tension about his eyes. And yet, there was nothing to be afraid of.

Compared to Batin, Nose Ring was just a puppy. All yap, no bite.

He's trying so hard, Seth thought. He could see it, the way Nose Ring drew himself up and glared, the way he held his little switchblade rigidly. But there was no sharpness to his gaze, no intent or purpose past the initial bluster. The kid probably thought he was being serious here, but how could he when he didn't even know what serious was? He knew nothing,

Seth couldn't help it. He laughed. And then he turned and went back to the counter, laughing softly all the way. Nose Ring stood stupidly, knife out, for a startled moment before he looked around and shoved it back in his pocket. His face went splotchy with rage as he realized things didn't go as planned.

People were turning to look, but Seth didn't care. The whole thing was absurd and pointless. He wasn't going to waste energy he didn't have dealing with it.

"Seth?" Tripp came around the counter, brow furrowed. He looked past at the table Seth had just come from, his eyes narrowing a fraction before he refocused on Seth. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh, fine." Seth leaned against the counter, still chuckling. His chest hurt, like he couldn't get enough air. He took a deep breath, though it didn't help much. The laughter didn't want to stop. It just kept coming and he had to really work hard to tamp it down. "Just some kids being stupid."

Tripp stepped close. He kept his voice down. "What happened? He pulled a knife on you."

"You saw?" Seth lifted his head, nearly knocking heads with his boss. Then he looked back at the table. Nose Ring had sat back down, and was sitting with a disgruntled expression while his two friends leaned in close, whispering urgently. The rest of the diner had returned to their meals since nothing appeared to have happened.

"I did. It's hard to miss from this angle. Seth-"

"It's fine." Seth smiled, trying to be reassuring. "It wasn't like he was going to use it. He didn't even know what he was doing."

"It didn't look that way to me," Tripp said, and there was something in his tone and eyes that Seth recognized.

He frowned, wondering, but decided that this wasn't the time. They had a diner full of people, after all. "He was just trying to scare me," he shrugged. "It didn't work."

Tripp watched him for a long moment. The scrutiny made Seth uncomfortable, and he abruptly made to slip past Tripp.

"I better check that order."

A hand on his arm stopped him. It was a gentle hold that he could have pulled away from if he wanted to, but he didn't.

"Are you all right, Seth?" There was a faintly troubled cast to Tripp's expression.

Seth shrugged. "I'm fine. Maybe a little tired, but Chadley's been working me hard. Why?"

In response, Tripp let him go. He didn't say anything further, but Seth could feel his boss's eyes following him. Even after he delivered the four burger specials to the gang members and cleaned the punk's table after they made a hasty exit, Tripp's attention didn't seem to waver. It continued for the rest of his work shift.

It wasn't anywhere as sharp or unnerving as Batin's regard, but it still set Seth's nerves on edge. By the time he finished clearing the last tables and vacuuming the floor after the last customer left just before 8pm, his shoulders and neck ached from being so tense. His head throbbed, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. All he wanted now was to just go to sleep.

Maybe he could get a couple hours in before he logged into Eliona.

Jake had made him one of the burger specials for his end-of-day meal, but he decided to box it up and take it home for later. His stomach felt unsettled, so eating right now wasn't probably a smart idea.

He left quickly, grabbing his bike from its place by the back door. The ride home passed in a blur. He didn't really remember much of it, other than the fact he felt absolutely miserable. Not only did he ache, but the effort to pedal seemed enormous, like he was running on mere fumes of energy.

By the time he got home, he was soaked in sweat and barely able to keep his eyes open. The box of food went into the fridge, and he had the presence of mind to set his alarm for midnight before he flopped onto his bed.

He closed his eyes.

The alarm beeped.

Seth growled and slapped a hand down on the alarm. It felt like he'd just closed his eyes. If anything, he felt groggier than before. Laying there, in the dark of his room with the fog of exhaustion bearing down on him, he knew the smart thing to do was to just go back to sleep.

He lay there for a minute. Then he sat up, leaned over the edge of the bed, and grabbed the headset. It wasn't really a choice.