Chapter 16

Violet clutched the pencil in her hand while she watched the MagiShift club skirmish along the field. Amber magic overtook blue as Ruggie stole the disk out of another student's grip— just like Leona said he would. She groaned, flipped the pencil, and set to erasing the formation she'd been drawing out in her notebook.

That was the third play she'd trashed in a week.

Good thing Leona still had her on observation duty, otherwise Violet was sure she'd be back running pointless laps in flying class.

She was surprised. Violet had expected to have to whip out new plays by the minute with the way Leona had greeted her.

"Hope you came prepared," he'd said. "I'm not a fan of wasting my time."

And yet, after gathering the club and announcing she'd be their new playmaker, he simply told her to take notes. Hence why she'd cobbled together some spare change for a new notebook from Sam's shop.

Back on the field, the players were chasing Ruggie now. Most were students she didn't recognize from the match against Royal Sword, though a couple she did. Most notable was Epel, the first-year flyer. Considering he'd basically won the game, it didn't shock Violet when she'd spotted him readying his broom among the other players at the start of her first practice. No doubt another recruit made by the club's president.

There he went now, diving so low the blades of grass beneath him rippled, pen at the ready for a steal of his own. But Ruggie was slick, ducking to his left to avoid his attempt. Epel sailed at his side, but was forced to pull up when he came dangerously close to breaking formation. That bought Ruggie enough time to sprint forward towards the makeshift goal. He scored in the next breath.

The players dissolved once he did, both teams breaking up and intermixing with cheers and groans.

A burst of magic captured their attention.

"Take five," Leona called to them, "then back in."

They did as he said, both flyers alighting on the ground to join the others. Violet reached for her own water bottle. Watching them was enough to make her throat sticky with thirst. The break was much too short, over before half the team recovered their breathing. Still, they went back to it, either too passionate or too scared of crossing Leona to sit the round out. Violet suspected it was the latter.

As for the housewarden himself, he sauntered over to where she sat and settled in the grass beside her.

"Herbivore" he wiped the sweat off his brow with the hem of his gym shirt.

"Kingscholar," Violet muttered back.

Leona didn't react beyond jutting his chin forward and asking, "How're they looking?"

What Violet said next required her to take a healthy gulp of her pride, "You know your players."

She wanted to knock the self-satisfaction from his face. He glanced down at her pencil-smudged page, "Told ya."

The arrogance in his tone curled Violet's nose. She snapped the notebook shut, a move that served to send Leona chuckling. Thankfully, he seemed to run out of quips and turned his attention back to the field. Violet followed, her eyes trained on Epel as he doubled back high above the action. He managed to intercept the disk before the opposing team could get it, but he left his right side open for anyone to take it back. Violet peeled back the cover of the notebook and jotted that down for later.

"So," Leona spoke a handful of minutes later, "What's this I hear about you working for the Octo-punk?"

Just like that, her concentration snapped. Octo-punk?

His question caught her too off guard for any sort of panic to set in. Instead she wracked her brain as to who the hell this "octo-punk" was. The answer slapped her in the face when she recalled her shift the night before. Right. Ruggie must have told him.

"You mean Azul?" she asked.

"Who else?" Leona drawled.

Violet shrugged, "I'm helping at the lounge."

She heard Leona hum, a sound he tried to convey as boredom, but she could hear the interested purr rumbling underneath.

"You cut a deal with him?"

This time, she did panic; internally anyway. She refused to give any sort of sign. Relaxed her hands, chewed on the side of her tongue instead. She called on her irritation.

"What's it to you?"

Again, Leona was quiet but she could feel the intensity of his stare against neck. It was making the muscles in her shoulders contract.

"Just needed the extra cash."

It wasn't a lie. Violet could have used some extra income, especially considering she was living off Crowley's "generosity". For Leona's part, he nodded once. His tail swayed a little only to settle in a curve around his right hip. His gaze lost some of its edge. Whether he believed her or not, he was backing off. That, or his interest was waning.

Perhaps both.

Violet waited two breaths, then went back to the game in time to catch one of Epel's team mates throw the disk out of bounds. The players paused, collected the disk and reset their places all on their own. About halfway through this new round, Leona spoke at last.

"[Indirect warning.]"

Violet furrowed her brow. [Indirect warning?]. What was that supposed to me? She turned towards Leona, but he was locked onto the action on the field. Rather, he was refusing to look at her. His meaning was clear: they were done talking about this. It occurred to Violet then that somehow, he'd managed to turn the tables. Now she was the one left with questions. But she wasn't brave enough to voice them.

With nothing keeping her tethered to their previous discussion, Violet flipped to a fresh page and began another play.

Line

"Three rounds of lobster dip!"

That night at the lounge promised to be another busy one, though nowhere near as chaotic as the last. Violet clipped her latest order to the adhesive strip by the line cooks. Not one of them paid her much mind. That is, except for Ruggie.

"Three rounds? Must be nice…" he muttered, though if he were annoyed it didn't show.

Violet shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Ever since their last parting, she fought to reconcile with what he'd said. About the trainer premium. She shouldn't have been surprised. Who was she to him, anyway? They'd barely known each other through MagiShift, hadn't spoken before or since her shift. He had no loyalties to her, no connections. And it was better that way. The less people around, the easier it would be to maintain her cover as Parker— with Azul's help or no.

She took a deep breath, leaned against the closest wall. Her section was taken care of for now. Five minutes. She could rest for five minutes, let the sizzle of the pans, the grill's heat, the smells of garlic and fish and vinegar overpower her senses. Just for a little while.

That night at the lounge was proving to be another busy one, though nowhere near as chaotic as the last. There was a steady stream of customers from the time they opened. While it took a second for Violet to gather her bearings, she found her rhythm early on. Of course, she would have found it sooner if her fellow waiter did his job. Floyd was assigned the dining room that night. His section neighbored her's and yet she hadn't seen him in over an hour.

"He does that sometimes," Ruggie told her when she'd complained. "Worst case you just ride it out. He'll come back eventually."

He'd better, she thought and shouldered her table's order.

"Lobster dip."

Ah. Just like that, her moment of peace was gone. She arranged the dishes on her tray. Her vision adjusted from the fluorescents of the kitchen to the more intimate lighting from the chandeliers as she re entered the dining room. Voices replaced pots and pans as she made her way to the table and delivered the food. As soon as she straightened she scanned the room, noticing a new party in one of the booths by the window. She readied her spiel as she made her way over. There were only two people sat at the table, though she noticed a third menu and set of silverware placed in an aisle seat. She was so focused on that detail, she didn't recognize the familiar face that sat closest to glass until she arrived at the table.

"Epel?"

The smaller boy blinked, shifting his attention from the utensils before him up to Violet.

"Oh!" he brightened with a delicate smile. "Hello, Parker. I didn't know you worked here."

Violet would have responded had she not been dumbfounded. This… was Epel? Everything about him was all wrong. He was subdued. Downright demure compared to the fierce competitor that tore through the skies during MagiShift. His lavender hair flowed free, his eyes doe-like and rimmed with subtle hints of liner that made him look even more feminine. But what stuck Violet most was his accent.

His country twang was gone.

In its place was a neutral tone that fell more in line with most people at the school.

"Ah! C'est bien! You know each other!"

Violet was shaken from her surprise by Epel's companion across the table. He was older, taller. His skin was light, but faint redness at his nose and cheeks spoke of someone who was used to spending time outdoors. Violet glanced down at the feathered hat in the seat beside him, catching sight of the purple and red band around his arm.

They were dorm mates, she realized. Pommefiore, if she remembered correctly.

"Yes," Epel was quick to answer. "We met at the RSA match, he made the last play."

Violet nodded her agreement, still trying to adjust to the new sound of his voice.

"Did you?" the older boy didn't give Violet the room to answer. "Such skill, such sportsmanship! A thing of beauty indeed."

Oh, Violet thought after taking a long look at him, he's crazy.

An exasperated sigh sounded just behind her shoulder, "Rook, you really mustn't exaggerate things."

Violet faced the unfamiliar voice and stopped dead. In the month or so since she'd arrived, she'd seen many an outlandish thing. Beast men, monsters, and mermen to name a few. But nothing could prepare her for the sight she beheld. He was tall, fair-skinned and blond. The most gorgeous man she'd ever laid eyes on. So beautiful, in fact, the air around him seemed to shimmer. He wore make-up— applied with such precision and care she would kill to know his secrets. In that moment, she never hated her charade more.

"Excuse me," the student addressed her and her knees almost buckled. "You're blocking my seat."

He said this with an elegant boredom befitting Leona.

"Sorry," she muttered, springing back to let him pass. Watching him sit was like watching a dance.

"Let's not forget why we're here, gentlemen," he said. His lips puckered into a perfect pout. "What have I said about slouching?"

That last bit was directed to Epel. He straightened his posture at once, folding his hands in his lap as he did. With the correction came another shift in attitude. Where he was quiet yet pleased to see her, he became serious. Almost nervous. Like any mistake would cost him dearly.

Something akin to sympathy flashed in Violet's chest.

"Bien sûr, Vil."

The handsome man, Vil, looked to her then. It took Violet nearly a minute to understand he was waiting to be waited upon.

Right.

"Good evening," Violet dipped her head in greeting. "I'm Parker, I'll be your host. Would you like anything to drink?"

"Sparkling water. Light ice. For the table please," Vil didn't hesitate. Meanwhile, Violet didn't miss the way Epel's expression shifted in defeat. She wanted to ask him directly, see if Rook objected as well but he only wore a placid look. Something strange was happening here, but Violet sensed it wasn't her place to ask. She swallowed her discomfort.

"Right away," she left with another bow, making a beeline for the bar. Lucky for her, it was dead now. She caught Jade as he polished an empty glass.

"Three seltzer waters, light on the ice," she told him. He answered with one of his amused grins, getting to work assembling the drinks. Meanwhile, Violet kept an eye on Epel's table. From where she stood, she couldn't see him from behind Rook. She could see Vil. He was talking to Epel, unfolding his bundle of silverware just so. What was his deal? Violet had to know.

"Hey, Jade," she didn't peel her eyes away from the table. "Do you know what's up with table 18?"

Jade let go of the tap extension as the liquid reached high in the glass, "Oh? You mean the Pommefiore table? Yes, I've noticed they visit quite often. At least once a week."

"Do you know why?"

This time Violet did look at Jade, catching the way he glanced over to them and back at the drinks he was prepping.

"What an odd thing to ask."

Had anyone else, like Riddle or Crowley, said it, Violet would have felt silly and little chastised. With Jade, though, she could see the mischief dancing in his golden eye. He was toying with her again. She leveled him with a flat stare.

Jade chuckled, "It appears the Pommefiore housewarden has taken a special interest in one of his first years. They use the lounge as a sort of… training ground if you will."

Violet tilted her chin lower, "Training ground?"

"Composure," Jade said. "Dinging etiquette. He's a bit rough around the edges for Pommefiore." He went back to filling the drinks, perching a thin lemon wedge to the rim of each before handing them over, "Best not keep them waiting."

No sooner did Violet place the third sparkling water in front of Rook that Vil shooed her away with a wave of his hand.

"We'll summon you when needed."

And just like that, his intimidating beauty, the shimmering, the poise— all his impressive charm died in Violet's eyes. She balked. Fought the urge to gape and lift a finger and utter her coldest Excuse me? No. She knew better. Besides, she doubted he'd appreciate being ripped to shreds in front of Epel. She did, however, go out of her way to catch Epel's eye, lean in and say:

"Let me know if you want anything else to drink."

She walked away, fully aware of the three pairs of eyes trained at her back. It wasn't much. Not by a long shot, but it was the only way to release some of her rebellion. At least, in a way that wouldn't land her in trouble with Azul.

The doors to the lounge burst open then, revealing a rowdy group representing a variety of dorms. She wasn't sure what Night Raven's policy on alcohol was outside the lounge—nor did she know what constituted the legal drinking age in Twisted Wonderland. Either way, it was clear this group had been pre-gaming. Hard. Violet's shoulders slumped. Not this. Not tonight.

She deflated further when she saw them stumble over to the seater's podium, shout, "Party o' six, mother—"and promptly make their way to the last available table large enough for their group.

Right in the middle of her section.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

Violet took a long, deep breath. Patience. Serenity. A healthy dose of restraint. She would need them all. The poor seater handed off the menus, clearly eager to get back to his post and away from the obnoxious students.

Now or never, she told herself. The faster she took their order, the sooner they would leave. In and out. Then she could have her shift back.

"Good evening," she recited the words more than said them. "My name is—"

"Two baskets of calamari and a jug of beer!" The guy who said it sported the ears of a bear and a yellow armband. Two others had animal ears, zebra and, if she had to guess, antelope, all with the same armbands. The rest hailed from Scarabia and one from Heartslabyul. She jotted the order down despite wanting to argue against the beer. They didn't need anything more in their system, but a fight wouldn't end well. Better ask someone in the back for advice.

"Coming right up," she muttered and powerwalked to the kitchen. She dropped the order off, getting another quip from Ruggie. From there she tried to make it to the bar, but a cry of "Yo, waiter!" stopped her.

"We want more," the bear student called. Others cast glances over towards the disruption, but ultimately deemed them unimportant. A small mercy. Violet trudged over, opened her notepad and wrote.

And wrote.

And wrote.

They order so much food, Violet took up three pages worth of paper before they were done. Well. At least half the tab was carbs. Hopefully that did something to sober them up. Back to the kitchen she went.

"That's the same table?" Ruggie's ears went flat against his head when Violet finished reading the order.

"Bunch of idiots," she grumbled. "Half from your dorm, by the way."

His ears rose an inch at that, "Yup, that sounds accurate."

He got to work right away, taking charge of the kitchen the same way he managed the dining room the night before. He reorganized the cooks, set them on different priorities until the last of the food was plated and ready to go. He grabbed two stands and tray of his own.

"I'll help," he placed some of the warmer dishes onto his tray with a hand towel.

Violet didn't protest. Screw her pride. She wanted this group gone.

"'Bout time!" Zebra crossed his arms, swaying a little in his seat. Both Violet and Ruggie ignored him. They got to work handing off the food, too focused to bother listing off each dish as they went. When at last they were through, Ruggie scooped the stands onto his arm and scampered away. Violet took one step after him when Bear yelled after her.

"Hey! Where's the beer?"

Violet clenched her jaw. Unclenched. Turned on her heel, "It's co-"

"We ordered beer!"

"I know," she couldn't keep the glare off her face. "It's coming."

Bear wasn't listening. His intoxication mixed with the lack of his pitcher drowned out all sense, all reason. His face grew ruddier by the second.

"Wan' it now! We ordered it!" he screamed, rising from his chair.

Oh, that's it. Forget costumer service. The only thing Violet was going to serve this jerk was a dose of reality. Who did he think he was, talking to her like that?

"Get it through your thick, primeval skull, you absolute waste of oxygen," She made sure to seethe low in her register. "Your godforsaken, seven-damned beer. Is. Coming. Now sit your ass down."

The rest of the table erupted into playful "ooooh's", clearly unimpressed with her and stupid enough to goad Bear on. One of the Scarabia boys nudged him.

"You gonna let him talk to like that?"

It was then Violet decided she didn't have time for this. She turned back around, locking eyes with Jade from across the room. He'd been watching the scene unfold. For once his mouth was twisted in a frown. Not a very deep one, but enough to tell Violet he was concerned. Upset at her or no, he was her lifeline.

Someone grabbed her shoulder. Violet whipped around too fast for fear to properly sink in. Bear had materialized behind her. She only caught the barest glimpse of him before a fist connected with her cheek. Red hot pain exploded on the side of her face, inside her cheek as a tooth cut across the thin skin. She tasted copper. Somehow, she managed to roll with the punch at the last second, but that didn't stop her from tumbling backwards into the tray of another server.

It was sheer luck he wasn't carrying anything warm. Food and ceramic plates and glass drinkware spilled over her, shatter on the floor around her. Her back hurt. The world spun. Bear was looming ever closer.

"Wanna try that again?" he demanded.

He made to grab her by the shirt. Enough instinct clawed through Violet's spinning mind that she raised her arms to shield her chest. He was coming closer.

Bear yanked backwards mere inches from Violet's face. His eyes bugged out as he flew backwards by the collar into the waiting grip of Floyd Leech.

"Gotcha," Floyd crooned in Bear's ear. The way his face drained of color was something Violet would never forget. Neither was the terrifying way Floyd's pupils dilated while he wrapped a hand around Bear's thick neck. His back was to Violet now, but she could hear every word he said.

"No one hurts Shrimpy. Got that?" his voice went from chillingly soft, to strong and loud, "Or do I gotta squeeze it into ya?"

He began to do just that, tightening his grip until Bear started to cough, then choke. He was squirming now, but Floyd held true. The dining room was in a frenzy now, students crying out or begging him to stop. They all went silent as a door slammed open.

"What is going on here?" a pair of dress shoes clicked along the floor, punctuating every word. Azul's cane, then his ankles, then the rest of him came into Violet's view. He trained his attention on her, still crumpled on the floor. Turned to Floyd.

"He punched Shrimpy," Floyd shrugged like he wasn't holding someone by the neck. He'd relaxed his hold, but only just. Bear was back to coughing.

"I see," Azul pushed his glasses up his nose. "Floyd, please escort our guest out of the Mostro Lounge. And see to it he understands he's no longer welcome here."

Floyd's answering grin was anything but reassuring, "Right away, boss."

In the next moment, he shoved Bear ahead of him by the neck until they cleared the exit. Azul stepped forward and addressed the other five at the table, "Unless you want to end up like your friend, I suggest you leave."

The started to do just that when Azul stopped them with a hand. His voice was back to its usually, melodic tone, "Oh! And there is one more thing. I'll be sure to inform your housewardens about this little… incident."

All five looked on the brink of terror. Especially, Violet noted, the one from Heartslabyul. She didn't know what Riddle would do to him, but she had a sneaking suspicion it would involve that signature spell of his.

The remainder of the group sped off. Azul watched them go before adjusting the coat at his shoulders, "Apologies, everyone. For the inconvenience, we'll be happy to offer each table a complimentary dessert. As you were."

The dining room wound back up to its usual pace. Nervous whispers turned to chatter once again. Sounds of dining and jazz piano chased away the lingering tension in the air.

A white gloved hand appeared in Violet's vision. She stared at it before craning her neck to meet Azul. Pity was strong in his eyes.

"Come with me."

Line

Healing potion stung worse than the punch. Or at least Violet thought so. She was in Azul's office, away from the activity and bustle of the dining room. Azul had guided her to one of the couches, asked Jade to bring a spare shirt and jacket to replace her soiled uniform, even insisted she take his coat and drape it over herself until that change of clothes arrived.

His next order of business, the healing potion. A concoction that tasted worse than it looked and caused burning pain in the places Violet was injured. To help stave off infection, Azul explained.

Now, they sat in the quiet of the office. Lights kept dim for her benefit. She tried to stay still while Azul wiped away the smears of food from her neck and face with a handkerchief.

As for Violet's emotional state, it was safe to say she'd been better. She hadn't stopped shaking since Azul helped her to her feet. She managed to keep her breathing deep, her heartbeat steady. What she fought hardest against was the warm tickle in her eyes.

She refused— refused! — to cry. She talked a big game, stood her ground. She wouldn't lose it the way she had with Ruggie. The reigns she kept over her emotions tightened. This wasn't the first time she faced humiliation. Not the worst, either. Bear wasn't worth the thought, worth the tears. She'd let him win if she crumbled. She wouldn't let him win. Couldn't let him!

A sob wracked through her chest against her will. She bit her lip. Shut her eyes. It was the shock, she told herself. Not the interaction, just her body dealing with the physical. She didn't need coddling. Didn't even miss Ace and Deuce. And she most definitely didn't have the desire to curl up in a ball while clutching Grim to her chest. She opened her eyes, sniffed, then rubbed at her face. Azul backed his hand away to let her.

"Never let them see how they effect you."

Violet hadn't expected him to speak. They'd spent the last several minutes steeped in silence.

"What?" she'd heard him, but she was tired.

For his part, Azul went back to cleaning the last bits of food from her left cheek. The one that was punched. His touch was gentle, careful, handling her like she would crack if he applied too much pressure. Just when Violet though he was done, he spoke again.

"Men like… that one thrive off intimidation. When that doesn't work, they escalate. Whenever they do try to retaliate, don't give them the power to see how deep their tactics go. They'll self destruct and you won't need to get your hands dirty."

Violet winced at pulse from the healing potion, "You sound like you're talking from experience."

Azul went quiet. He paused his cleaning, moved his hand away once more only to dive back within the space of a heartbeat. Had she struck a nerve? Violet wondered until she remembered her wince. He was probably just reacting to that.

"Not at all," he answered. He swiped away the last of the mess and folded the handkerchief. "I simply want to ensure that you're prepared."

The last of the healing potion was beginning to fade. Violet settled back against the couch, taking the rare opportunity to remove her hat. Lucky for that spell, she thought, or else that would have been it. She almost said as much, but it felt strange to. Clunky.

"Thanks," she said instead.

It was Azul's turn to be caught off guard, "Whatever for?"

"Helping me out," Violet turned her hat over in her hands. "You, Floyd. Jade."

"Ahhh, well," Azul cracked a smile. "I'm only upholding my end of the bargain, angelfish. Nothing more."

"Sure," Violet let a little of herself shine through.

Azul eyed her from his side of the couch, calculating and yet… not.

"Hm, I suppose you're pleasant enough for good company, too. At least Floyd thinks so."

Floyd. There was another piece to this whole thing. Violet had seen him at his friendliest. At his most playful and most cunning. But what she saw that night was him at his most dangerous.

"Does he get like that a lot?"

Azul tugged on his gloves, "Occasionally. Though only if he finds something worth the trouble. He must care for your friendship more than even I know."

He must, Violet couldn't help but agree. The truth of it was a little harder to dissect. They'd forged a bond over passed notes and hangman. And now deals and dirty dishes and rude costumers. Those were a lot of bits and ends that didn't appear to tie together until she considered one thing: Floyd, in every aspect, was intense. He played hard, worked hard when the mood struck him. His moods fluctuated between near-extreme versions of happy, upset, and even laid back. Perhaps that same intensity applied to his relationships as well. If that were the case, he probably experienced their friendship on that same level.

"I guess so."

A knock sounded at the door and Jade entered with a folded pile of fresh clothes.

"Go on and change," Azul stood, making his way to the door to give her privacy. "Then head back to your dorm. There's no need to keep you."

Violet frowned, "Are you sure?"

Azul waved her off, "That healing potion requires rest. What sort of monster would I be to expect you to push through an injury?"

With that, he left the office shutting the door behind him. Violet sat for a moment, trying to take the whole night in and failing. So much had happened and yet nothing at all. Her fingers traced he lapel of the jacket, its satiny material rich and luxurious just like the rest of the Lounge.

Well, Ace wanted proof that Azul was a man of his word and she got it. She buttoned up the new shirt, crisp and well pressed. Now, this was a uniform. Nothing like the jumpsuit Crowley fished out of who-knows-where. That alone showed the difference in her two arrangements.

She left that night feeling much better than she had in a while. What's more, as cryptic and aloof as he was, Violet found that she liked Azul.