Tommy came back moments later with 4 coke bottles, a bag of chips, one chocolate bar, and a cup of yogurt.
"Here comes our great Tommy Matthew with the goods!" Micky declared happily. "What do you have for us today, my dear favorite worker on this train?"
Tommy rolled his eyes and handed him the chips.
"Mr. Dolenz, we are not a restaurant here. And I am not a waiter." He said sternly, handing each a Coke bottle and the cup of yogurt to Peter.
"I did the best that I could," he sighed heavily as he handed out the items.
"Thank you, Tommy," Peter smiled, gladly taking it. Tommy let out a deep sigh.
"You're welcome, Peter. Oh hey, Jones!" He called out and tossed the chocolate bar and Davy.
"I don't want it," Davy said quickly, trying to hand it back.
"I'll take it!" Micky offered and everyone glared at him for a moment. Tommy sighed and turned back to Davy, offering him a sad smile.
"It's a gift. Take it as a sort of apology from the rest of us in the staff."
"Apology for what?" Mike whispered to Micky, who waved him off as if to say "don't worry about it".
Davy let out a deep sigh and looked down at it, reluctantly opening it.
"Thanks," he muttered, taking a bite.
"As for Mr. Nesmith," Tommy said, turning toward Mike.
"Naw, I don't need anything," Mike said with a slight shrug.
"There are specials tonight for new passengers. It's a tradition to make everyone feel more at ease here," Tommy said, pulling out his notepad.
"What're the specials?" Mike asked, frowning.
"What do you want them to be?"
"For the record!" Micky jumped in, grinning at Tommy. "I will gladly take anything he doesn't eat."
"I know you will," he sighed. "But it's only for new passengers."
"Not even the friends of new passengers?"
"Mr. Dolenz, would you please let me do my job?" He asked sternly, becoming frustrated.
"Right," Micky said quietly, looking down. "Sorry about that."
"I really don't need anything right now," Mike said. "If Micky wants anything, he can use my spot."
Tommy closed his eyes and let out a long groan before he spoke again.
"What do you want, Dolenz?"
Micky grinned and looked at Mike.
"A large cheese pizza, a turntable, and a birthday cake for Peter."
Peter smiled.
"Carrot cake, please."
"Yeah," Mike said looking up at Tommy. "What I want is a pizza for Micky and a carrot cake for Peter's birthday. Please."
Tommy scowled at them, clearly this was something he usually had to deal with. He sighed and reluctantly wrote down the order.
"Don't expect anything…" he muttered as he wrote it down. I don't know if they'd allow me to bring you guys any of this. I'll do my best, but once again, don't. Expect. Anything."
Once he was gone, Micky let out a hollar and patted Mike on the back.
"That was great, Nez!" He said happily. "He might actually bring it this time!"
Mike let out a laugh and looked down at his bottle, opening it.
"Why'd you call me that?" He asked in a tone that Micky couldn't tell if he was curious or offended.
"What? Nez?" He asked and Mike nodded. "Sorry."
"No, it's just," he shrugged. "Why?"
"'Cause your name is Nesmith, and I just thought…you know, Nez."
Mike let out a laugh.
"It's Michael." He said with a smile. "My name, it's Michael."
"So's mine," Micky smiled. "Well…middle name. That's where Micky comes from. Guess that makes us Micky and Mike."
Mike wanted to correct him and say his name was "Michael" but refrained.
"Davy, are you alright?" Peter asked quietly and the two turned to Davy.
"I don't want their pity chocolate…" Davy muttered, glaring down at it.
"Hey, man," Micky said, trying to be of some comfort to him. "I'm really sorry about all that. Everything will be alright."
"How do you know?" Davy asked angrily, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat.
"I don't, it's just what I believe." Micky sighed and Davy scoffed at him but didn't say anything. He turned away and pressed his head against the window, staring out at the flashes of light passing by him.
"Is he alright?" Mike asked in a whisper.
"He's…he's had a rough while…" Micky explained and Mike frowned, turning to look as Davy slumped down in his seat. "I don't think I have any right to tell you…you know, betraying his trust and all that…he'll be fine though…"
"I understand," Mike nodded.
The silence was interrupted by Tommy returning.
"Your large cheese pizza," he said, handing Micky a plate with a single piece of toast with a slice of cheese on it.
"And your carrot cake," he said, handing Peter a decent looking slice of actual carrot cake.
"Hey!" Micky yelled, pointing at him. "You sabotaged my order!"
"I told you not to expect anything of me," he smirked and turned to all of them. "Now, happy birthday, Peter. I'm sorry, Jones. Fuck off, Mr. Dolenz, don't expect any more from me. And I hope you enjoy your ride, Mr. Nesmith."
"Thank you, Tommy," Peter said with a smile. Tommy nodded and left again, missing Micky sticking his tongue out at him as he left.
"Well, cheers to that," Micky said with a smile, holding up his Coke.
"Cheers," Mike sighed, opening and holding up his. They clinked glasses and took a sip simultaneously, Mike frowned and spit out his.
"What?" Micky asked, confused.
"It's…it's nothing," Mike said, staring at the bottle. "Nothing at all. It's like…I'm drinking liquid air or something."
Micky let out a laugh and Peter smiled, taking a bite of his cake.
"You get used to it," he said. "It's all in the mind here. Everything has whatever taste, whatever feeling, whatever smell you choose to give it."
"What he means is," Micky said, putting a hand on Mike's shoulder. "Your Coke's gonna taste like air unless you think it tastes otherwise. Like you can make it taste like strawberry lemonade or beer or anything you want it to. You gotta give it taste."
"Why didn't you just imagine your chips were cheese pizza then?" Mike asked, slightly amused.
"Because the bag says potato chips," Micky said as if the answer was obvious. "So my mind starts thinking they're gonna taste like potato chips. Every time I try to think otherwise, I'm reminded that I'm just eating potato chips."
Mike laughed and nodded.
"Alright," he said with a grin. He stared at the Coke bottle's label and started imagining its taste. He didn't believe them but once he put the bottle back to his lips, he was drinking a Coke. Same flavor, same consistency, same everything. It was just like he remembered.
"Pretty groovy, huh?" Micky asked with a smile as Mike stared at his bottle in disbelief.
"Yeah…" he said, smiling slightly. "Yeah, guess it is."
"Cheers," Micky said, holding up his glass again. "To Peter's birthday, for Mike joining us, and of course, to the great great Tommy Matthew for all he provides."
Mike let out a snort and he and Peter held up their glasses as well.
"Cheers," they said in unison, drinking from their Cokes.
"Cheers," Davy whispered, opening his bottle and raising it up as well.
Micky lit up and patted him on the back.
"You're gonna be just fine, kid," he said softly. "Now, party?"
"Party," Davy agreed, going over to the rest of the group.
Micky led him back, keeping his arm around Davy, as they joined the others. Peter smiled and pulled out the deck of cards, handing them to Mike.
"What?" He asked, looking down at them.
"Do you wanna shuffle?" Peter asked with a warm smile. Mike looked up at him, then back down, hesitant to take them.
"Are you alright?" Peter asked, suddenly concerned.
"Yeah," Mike said, looking at them. "Why me?"
"They're just cards, Mike Nesmith," Micky said with a slight smile. "They're not gonna hurt you."
Mike sighed and took them. He parted the cards and began to shuffle them.
"I'm not very good at shuffling," he muttered, as if it was a good excuse for his discomfort.
"So?" Micky shrugged. "We don't care. If you're a bad shuffler, you'll just deal me all the good cards. And I don't mind that."
"Oh, really? Is that how that works?" Mike smiled as he continued.
"Mmm-hmm!" Micky grinned and Mike rolled his eyes, trying to hold back a laugh as he dealt them among the four.
"So, what are we playing?" He asked, distributing them all.
"What do you wanna play, Mr. Nesmith?" Micky asked in his best Tommy impression. It was not even close, but they all knew who it was and it got Peter and Davy laughing.
They didn't say anything about what they were playing. They all threw cards down and randomly took some up. Mike was trying to pick up on the rules, if there were any, but they seemed to constantly be changing. Eventually he seemed to catch on and joined in the chaos. Soon he was laughing and hollering right along with them, as if he had known them forever.