New story! Of course, I'm starting this one long before I've begun to finish my first. Tis' life I'm afraid. So, this story was actually inspired from a number of 'Mobward' stories I've read and catalyzed from an NPR documentary thing of sorts. Actually, I guess it was more along the lines of an interview story. I suppose that's what a documentary is, just this one was on the radio. I don't have a television or cable or any of that jazz, so it's just me and my radio. Anyway, The Golden Apple is a diner in Chicago and the story on the radio was just so beautiful and colorful and chalked full of vibrant pop culture in the making. It gave me my setting and a fuck awesome name. That's probably about all that is true to the original inspiration, but oh well. Hope ya like the start.

The Golden Apple

Chapter 1

How I ever got to this point in my life, I'll never know. I had the whole world ahead of me – any aspiration within reach. And yet despite all that, I was still poor little Isabella Swan working at some dead-end waitressing job I was beyond qualified for. Universities claim their programs have great employment rates, employers say they don't discriminate, people say that there are jobs out there; and yet still here I am, a 23 year old college graduate taking orders and dishing out hamburgers in some corner 24-hour Chicago diner. I figure it's just one of those things you resign yourself to and move on with your life; fries and milkshakes won't serve themselves after all.

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My alarm went off promptly at 6PM, waking me up to another lovely Monday night. Murphy decided that since his best night shift waitress up and skipped town, he'd do best to switch his second best day shift girl to a whole new world. Guess now I was first best at something in my life.

Rolling out of bed, I quickly snagged the yellow 50's style dress uniform and white half apron that was my uniform. Working at the Golden Apple really wasn't all that bad, sure the uniform showed more skin than I was comfortable with and the money wasn't all that great, but from what Janet had been telling me, tips mysteriously picked up after 1AM and the customers becomes exponentially more interesting. Maybe I'd be able to stretch my sociology degree a little bit after all.

Like a zombie on autopilot, I snagged a granola bar from my shitty kitchen and was out the door by 6:30 for the 25 minute trek to the diner. The cold weather nipped at my exposed legs and I pulled my black worn coat a little closer with each step. I ended up making it to the diner a whole 5 minutes earn. Whatever it takes to stay warm.

"Hey Bella, you're early!" shouted Matt the cook as I walked in through the back to hang up my coat and clock in.

"Hi Matt. It seems the colder the weather, the quicker one walks to get out of it." He nodded his head in agreement before calling an order up and tossing another fist full of fries in the fat.

"You ready for tonight?" He asked, not pausing in his work to look at me.

I shrugged my shoulders noncommittally, but realizing he wasn't paying attention replied, "I suppose. Can't be too much different than the day shift right?"

"Are you kidding?!" He laughed, yelling for Tony to hurry up and wash him some silverware. "These night walkers are fucking crazy ass mother fuckers. There ain't nothing good 'bout no one walkin' in for a burger and some rings at 3 in the morning. Better keep your wits about you girlie."

I walked out not responding, heading up to Sandy to see where I'd be tonight. "Just go fill up the coffee on number five and I'll assign you a section." She said, handing me the pot she was juggling with three plates of pie and two milk shakes. I swore at times that lady grew a spare hand no one knew about.

The old geezer at five stared at me funny when I filled up his coffee, but I did it anyway and quickly walked back to the counter. It always took me a good ten to fifteen minutes to warm up to the food service industry. After that I became everyone's best friend and daughter. Ass kissing was never high on my list of things, but sure did make for better tips.

Sandy ended up sticking me on section three, which was all of our big tables. They were suppose to seat only 5 to a table, but I'd seen people make an eight top out of the small space. For as run down and seedy as The Golden Apple looked, it was the cultural icon and center point for this neighborhood and people flocked here at all hours too.

By midnight, the atmosphere had taken a drastic swing. Usually the day shift consisted of the blue collars taking their last meal before heading home at the odd hour of six or their day shifters rolling in for a morning cup of joe, then the place transformed into a nostalgic diner with cute old couple having some lunch and your odd straggler getting a burger.

Now there were tons of partiers coming in and more people with hardware in their face and ink on their body then I could count. My last table I swear was passing around a joint under the table. Matt certainly was right when he said I needed to keep my eyes peeled.

I had a group of frats who walked in around two. They were a rowdy and drunk bunch obviously trying to get something to soak up the alcohol in their stomachs. Just as I was pulling their order from the window, Sandy grabbed my arm and pulled me aside.

"Look, I know you are damn good at your job, but table 8 just got sat. Don't fuck up. They have been coming in at 2:30 every day for the past God knows how long. They are important. And for God's sake, don't spill anything on them!" She hissed before walking away. Her last comment made me blush. Despite being one of the best here, I was still quite well known for my clumsiness, having dropped many a things on customers over the past months.

Quickly, I dished out burgers to the guys and sneaked a peak at table 8, which was next to the frats. There were five men sitting there, all stiff as a board, dressed in black suits. If it wasn't for the fact that they were sitting in the middle of a diner, you'd think they were in a very serious business meeting. Stashing the tray under my arm, I made my way over to their table and plastered a smile on my face – Sandy said they were important so I figured I could at least try to pretend I liked my job.

"Hey guys. My name's Bella. What can I get you guys to drink?" I asked, pulling out my paper from the front of my apron.

No one turned to look at me, instead continued to look at the guy on my left. He was tall with a head of disarrayed copperish hair. He had a hard lined expression on his face, and I got the impression that I just interrupted a conversation. Good job Bella.

He turned to me then, his expression unchanged save for the addition of knitted brows.

"Where's Julia?" He asked, staring his bright green eyes into mine.

"Uh, that's a great question. If you find her, let her know we don't appreciate her up and leaving. In the mean time, what can I get for you to drink?" I knew I sounded bitchy, but he could at least smile at me and not question the whereabouts of the lady that landed me here. I mean, hell, it's almost three in the morning and I've been on my feet dishing out greasy food since seven with four more hours to go.

He frowned, and said he'd have a water. That was the cue for the rest of the group to chime in with their orders. The tall blond to his left asked for some sweat tea in his lovely southern drawl. The two across from him went with water as well. As I looked towards the giant hulking of a man on the end, he smiled widely and exuberantly told me he'd take a cherry coke.

I got their drinks quick, taking a pitcher of coke with me to fill up the frat group. As I leaned over their table to grab one of the guy's plastic cup, I felt a hand rest on my ass and give a squeeze.

I stood up quick, turning to look at the guy to my right. "If you don't take your hand off my ass right now you are going to get a pitcher of coke in your lap." I seethed through my teeth. I am a college-educated woman who works tooth and nail for everything. I will NOT be reduced to letting assholes grab me for some fun.

"Awh, don't be like that sug'." He said, laughing and looking up at me as he squeezed his hand that was on my ass again. All the frat guys around the table laughed with him.

Roughly I snatched his hand off of my ass and pushed his arm back toward him while raising the pitcher in my left hand.

"I told you not to grab me, you asshole. You need to cool the fuck off." I said, my voice rising as I tipped the whole pitcher all over him. The look on his face was of pure shock and the guys around him stopped laughing. They obviously didn't think I had the balls to do it.

"Here's your check," I said, throwing their check on the table that I grabbed out of my apron. "Pay it and get the fuck out, there are non-heathens who want your table." I walked off then, praying my boss wouldn't fire me for that.

I noticed as I walked towards table 8 to take their order that the noise level in the café had drastically dropped and that people were staring at me. Trying to shrug off their eyes, I pulled out my paper again and put it on my try to use as a desk before asking what I could get the men in black to eat.

"Whoa, that was awesome!" Said the giant man at the end of the table. I choose to ignore his comment.

"What can I get you to eat?" I asked turning towards the copper top man. He had the most unusual look on his face and I couldn't place it. He didn't say anything for a whole minute, then busted out laughing; like fully belly laughing. The other suits looked to each other then followed his lead in laughing.

I huffed. "I don't know what's so damn funny. If you guys are going to be assholes too then I'm just going to leave." I asked again.

The copper top finally stopped his laughing and smiled at me. "That was well done, though I must admit, I had higher hopes that you'd deck him. I'll have a Rueben on marble with onion rings." Pursing my lips, I wrote down his order then look to the others.

Not wanting any more comments on my coke-dumping debacle, I practically ran back to the counter to place their order and grab a rag to clean up the mess I had made. Luckily it hadn't been a full pitcher else I'd of had to break out the mop. Before I could escape to cover up the scene, Hal grabbed my arm and pulled me into the side hallway that led to the bathroom.

Hal was a big guy, the kind of guy with a beer gut and an ugly face who sat so high on the chauvinist wall that he didn't even think women existed. He was the night manager here and no one really liked him. We all speculated that the only reason the owners kept him on was because the night shift brought in the biggest pull – why fix it if it wasn't broken?

"What the hell was that Swan?" He said breathing in my face. I had only had to work under him a couple times when I covered for someone. He always leered at me funny and made my skin crawl. Now with him touching me and three inches from my face I wanted to shower and puke all at once.

"I was defending myself." I argued. " I wasn't just going to let them feel me up when I was refilling their drinks!"

"If they want to touch your ass then you let them." He practically yelled. "You don't just dump shit all over them and tell them to leave."

"That's asinine! I shouldn't have to let some drunk frat boy squeeze my ass."

"You better watch it Swan. One wrong move and you're gone." He seethed, only pissing me off more.

"Are you threatening me?" I yanked my arm out of his grasp.

"No, I'm merely telling you that behavior like that won't be tolerated." He said stepping a foot closer to me.

"That's harassment Hal. Don't you threaten me. I absolutely refuse to let chauvinistic pigs like you objectify women just because they can."

"Now you listen here, little girl. I…"

"Is there a problem here?" A voice interrupted Hal. We both flicked our eyes to the entrance of the hallway where a tall man in a suit stood. I immediately recognized him as the copper top from my section.

Hal stood up straight and took a step back out of my personal space.

"No, no problem here. I was just making sure Bella was okay after what happened out on the floor." Sweet started to bead on his top lip, making a gross man look even more appalling.

"Good. I would hate to find out you were threatening my waitress."

Whom this man was I didn't know, but it was obvious everyone knew who he was and this power he seemed to hold. If he made Hal nervous though, I was fine with that. Sending a glare back Hal's way, I brushed my way out of the hallway towards the new interlocutor. Pausing, I looked up towards him and whispered a small thanks. I didn't like people sticking up for me, but if it kept me my job I wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. He didn't look at me, but continued to stare at Hal who was shifting from foot to foot. He gave a slight nod though and I took that as his reply and his dismissal.

Hearing Matt call out my order for table 8, I quickly made my way to collect it. Copper Top was just sitting down as I arrived carrying their tray of food. Handing out their plates, I made my move to leave them to their meal, but a hand jutted out to grab my forearm. A shock ran up my arm and where his hand was instantly began to tingle. He gave no indication of having felt it so I didn't say anything, just looked into his green eyes.

"Let me know if he bothers you like that again." He said. I nodded and left, mulling over his words.

They were a mysterious bunch and no one said much of anything when I was around. Turning back quick, I could see the giant of a man inhaling his food while nodding every now and then. The two men opposite Copper Top and the man with the southern drawl were talking, but I couldn't see if anyone was responding to them.

It seemed odd how he would make a statement like that. He didn't know me and it wasn't like he had any sway around here anyway.

After half an hour I picked up their plates and dropped their check, telling them to take their time. Copper Top looked up at me and nodded before turning back to the group. I filled their drinks up a few minutes later and went about checking on my other tables. The next time I did my rounds to fill drink, their table was empty.

Quickly I swept by to collect their used glasses and wipe down the table. Under the cup where Copper Top sat was a hundred dollar bill. My head shot up, looking around to see if they were still here. There was no way he meant to leave this. He probably grabbed this, mistaking it for a ten. Just put it in your pocket Swan. When he comes back realizing his mistake you can give it back.

He didn't come back though. By the time I was clocking out I felt it burning in my pocket along with my other tips. Janet had be right that tips certainly did pick up, but there is no way Julia got this treatment every time they came in else she was dumber than I thought to just skip town.

Though I was tired, walking home, I was wired. Ever bump and odd noise made me jump – I'd never had this much in my pocket before and it was making me nervous especially since I lived in one of the rougher neighborhoods. After what felt like forever, I made it behind the locked door of my fifth floor walk up. Immediately I went to my bookshelf and pulled out a box I had shoved in the corner. It was an old cigar box and had been holding my tip money for as long as I could remember.

Stripping down, I pulled the shades, checked the lock, and fell into bed. Working nights was going to prove very interesting.

So there it is. I'm interesting in perhaps co-writing this, so if you're jazzed about the plot so far and have awesome ideas, write well, and love you some good ol' fashion crime please PM me.

Jenn