The diner was smaller, more worn out than Dennis had expected. If not for the warm glow of lights inside, he would've taken it for the ghost of a building or something to that effect. It was rustic, not as a style, but as a feeling. It was straight-up old, refurbished and restored a dozen times. Yet the intense sense of history and life was untouched.
Dennis double-checked the address. King's restaurant. His new job. He couldn't shake the feeling of excitement at the thought. There was something different about this place. Something special. He pushed open the door, wondering what beautiful sights awaited him.
He wasn't disappointed. Weathered red chairs on scuffed-up hardwood floors. Faded yellow wallpaper covered by framed and vintage posters and faded photographs.
King Orange stood behind the counter, smiling gently. "How are you doing, Dennis? Recovered from the… excitement… of last week?"
"As much as one can recover," Dennis said. Nothing would ever really be the same, but a few days of rest had done him good.
King chuckled. "Some things change you. That's part of life."
Dennis nodded. For better or worse, his entire perspective had shifted during this experience. His priorities had been violently rearranged.
"Well… Let's get ready for breakfast." King said, motioning to the kitchen.
Dennis followed. They worked. The work wasn't difficult, but it was unlike anything Dennis had ever done. Dennis listened attentively as King showed him how he prepared the food, what he could expect for the meal rushes, and everything he had to say to the customers.
Something about this place made him utterly content. Trying his best was actually good enough. He could make mistakes and be corrected. He wasn't expected to know everything right away, and that was okay. King was willing to teach him, and that made him all the more willing to learn.
Time seemed to move inexplicably fast. The adrenaline kept him on his feet throughout breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He did his job, did it well, and enjoyed doing it. He didn't have time to realize how tired he was, but that was part of the fun of it. He didn't want the day to end, but closing time was fast-approaching. Then a familiar figure entered the room.
Dennis was in the kitchen when it happened, but upon hearing the bell above the door, he flew to the counter.
"How can I help–" Dennis started. It was Kevin. He froze. This was something he was utterly unprepared for.
"Just water, thanks," Kevin said, not looking up from his phone.
"Okay," Dennis said shortly. He disappeared into the kitchen. He needed a second to compose himself, as well as retrieve Kevin's water.
A million fears rose inside of him. What could Kevin possibly want here? The logical voice inside of him said, "Dinner, probably," but that voice was lost in the panic. Irrationality reigns in these moments, and Dennis was sure that Kevin was here to get him.
The splash of overflowing water snapped him back to reality. Kevin was a customer. He had to serve him. It was the right thing to do.
Dennis took a deep breath and carried the water back into the dining room. His hand shook, but turning back wasn't an option. It didn't even cross his mind.
He set the glass down gently. He could've left it at that, but something told him that they needed to have this conversation. Better to face it head-on than wait. "Hello, Kevin."
Kevin's eyes shot up. "Dennis!"
Dennis felt his stomach lurch. "Yeah, it's me. Lemme know when you're ready to order."
Kevin looked confused for a second. "You're working here now?"
"Yes sir," he said. He tried not to sound cold, but making eye contact seemed an impossible task.
There was a long pause. Kevin leaned back in the chair thoughtfully. "Well, I should congratulate you, Dennis. I never would've guessed you were capable of it."
Dennis didn't try to hide his surprise. "Huh?"
Kevin gave a half-smile and looked back at the menu. "Standing up like that took a lot of… stuff. I wouldn't have guessed that you, of all people, would've done it. I mean, you had the heart, but… well… let's just say I never would've seen it coming."
Dennis sighed. It had been a rollercoaster. "Neither did I."
Kevin looked deep in thought, and then glanced at the menu in his hands. "Uh, number two without tomatoes."
Dennis nodded. He turned back to the kitchen to prepare the meal, but not before glancing at Kevin again.
He sat at a table, alone, in retrospect of times past. Although he tried to pass off as a normal guy who just wanted to enjoy his meal, he was plagued with worries and regret. He looked ashamed, and even a little angry. Not at Dennis for leaving the company. Angry at himself for staying.
Dennis wanted to say a word of comfort. Something to give him hope.. As he prepared the order, he rehearsed his words. He was ready.
The dish had hardly hit the table before Dennis spoke. "It's not too late."
Kevin looked up from his food. "What do you mean?"
"You can still leave it behind. You're a lead scientist! If you leave, it'll make a difference, maybe stop some of it altogether!" Dennis said.
Kevin was silent for a moment. "No, no, no. I can't just leave. This job is all I have. If Barbara wasn't constantly stabbing me in the back, I'd be well on my way to a promotion. It's an amazing opportunity. I'll never be able to find something this immmense ever again. You're young, with a fresh mind and a clean conscience. I'm not."
Dennis's heart sank, knowing he wasn't going to make any headway with this. He made one more last-ditch effort. "But it's slowly killing your humanity."
"A little late for that," he said, shortly.
Dennis felt chills, but let him be. He felt something uncanny in the conversation. Something familiar. Like he was looking in the mirror from last monday. He was unnerved by what he saw. Kevin didn't like what the company was doing, but had no alternative. It was slowly making him miserable. But Kevin didn't want Dennis's advice, and he couldn't force him to take it.
Kevin ate quietly by himself. Dennis attended to his other duties. Kevin paid his bill, left a reasonable tip, and then disappeared into the darkness again. This was the path he'd chosen. This was the path he'd follow.
The bell above the door rang again. Dennis's eyes darted back to the door. Maybe Kevin had changed his mind, and had returned to tell Dennis that he was quitting. For a moment, Dennis was hopeful. Then Purple walked in.
Dennis's face fell. Not that he was unhappy to see Purple in particular. He was just expecting - and hoping - for someone else. Purple paid Dennis's disappointment no mind, and grinned.
"How'd it go? And yes, the refrigerator is a nightmare to close, it's not your imagination."
Dennis chuckled. "Thanks. I thought it was just me. Overall, it went great. I had no idea how much fun it would be. And what about you?"
"Well, I lost a bet and promised the gang milkshakes. They'll be here soon. Care to help me make them?"
Dennis shrugged. "Okay. Show me how I can help."
Purple pulled some chilled glasses out of the freezer proudly. "Watch and learn."
For as much as Purple didn't like to cook, he performed the familiar operation with the extravagancy and dexterity of someone who'd known no other skill. To him, this was not simply the matter of making a milkshake. It was an art.
Dennis's attempt at following him was equally delicious, while his performance was not quite so artful. Purple timed everything with the dancelike grace of a deer fawn. While Dennis's final execution matched Purple's, his process was more reminiscent of a stumbling and errant calf.
When the gang arrived, Purple and Dennis served them with the reckless liveliness of friendship. Between the open silliness of old friends and the innate joy of ice cream, something made Dennis feel utterly content. This place was a pocket of peace from the turbulent world.
He sipped his milkshake reflectively. He didn't want a job at a mega corporation, or a potential six figure salary. He didn't want genius and aloof coworkers. He wanted a diner job in a family business. He wanted reckless and real friends. This is what he wanted. This was his dream.