A/N: This is my second fic for Zero Day. I was talking with my fiance calgabriel about things we wanted to write, and he mentioned two things: the two of them hanging out after one of Andre's shifts at the pizza place, and about the two of them running away together. I decided to combine the two.

9:57pm

Three minutes, and I'm fucking out of here.

Throwing the sodden rag back into the bucket and straightening his back with a satisfied groan, Andre recalled his brother telling him that constantly checking the time only made time feel slower. Awareness is an affliction, he'd said, the time will pass, I promise.

Alright, sure. Time will pass.

Andre took his earphones out of his ears just in time to hear the pavlovian tinkling of the front door opening, the frame catching on the soft silver bell. He groaned in annoyance and pinched his nose bridge - he would have to sweep that floor again. He never understood why Stefan insisted it had to be spotless. It's not like people were eating off it like animals.

"Sign says closed!"

"Man, I wanted eight large pizzas. All the toppings."

Recognizing his best friend's careening tone, Andre smiled inwardly.

"Yeah? You want fries with that?"

"Nah. I'm on a diet."

He huffed a half-laugh out of his nose as he wrapped his earphones around his mp3 player.

"I'll be out in a sec."

Andre's knees ached from being on the floor, his forearms ached from handling the giant iron peel, his apron was smeared with chunky red sauce. But honestly, truth be told, he loved cleaning at the end of the night. He had his drill that he'd fallen into. Turn off the ovens. Flip the sign. Sweep the front. Head to the back, start with the counters, then the ovens once they were cool. Headphones in, Stefan fucked off home, a lone worker in his own world of routine. Fridges last. Then a final sweep and mop of the whole place before cashing up and heading out. And he was nearly done.

He grabbed the broom and started from his usual corner, shaking the urge to check the time again. The time will pass.

Finishing his sweep with ease, he realized he'd forgotten to put the mop bucket on to fill. Damn it all, Cal had thrown him off his routine.

As if on cue, Cal's sing-songy inflection reached Andre at the back of the store.

"I'm dying of old age!"

"Dude, shut up, I'm almost done!"

Andre let the bucket fill less than usual, speeding across the floor with the damp mop as Cal continued to complain good naturedly.

"I'm fading, I can see the light… holy shit, grandma, is that you?"

Someone had spilled sauce on the floor a number of hours ago and hadn't bothered to wipe it up. Lightly gritting his teeth, Andre gave it a little elbow grease as he bit back another retort. Cal wasn't going anywhere. He let out a quiet huff of triumph as the stain finally lifted, and he put the mop back into its corner with the bucket. He wanted to check the time again, but he resisted the urge.

"Alright, alright. I'm coming."

He still had to count the stupid cash. God damn it.

Hauling the register to the front, he finally saw Cal sitting on the counter. He was wearing a simple light blue polo shirt, his favorite shorts, and his beat up vans. Red beads around his left wrist. Headphones hanging out of his pocket. He was playing with the salt shakers, fingering them and threatening to topple them over. His focus broke when he noticed Andre clattering into the lobby with the cash.

"There he is. I was worried you'd fallen into the oven."

He was kicking his legs like a child, smiling at Andre, all teeth and shine. His braces had been removed a couple months previously - Andre hadn't really noticed the difference until now.

"Is that for me?" Cal pointed at the big tray filled with cash and coins, receipts threatening to fly out from under their silver clip.

"You wish. I have to count it. Give me a hand."

"So it is for me!"

"Sure, whatever. Start with the big notes."

A comfortable silence settled in the restaurant as they busied themselves with the count. The rhythmic slide of paper as Cal counted his notes was almost distracting, so Andre tried to time his own counting to the same pace. It helped. It always helped to be in sync with Cal.

They finished at almost the same time. Policy required a double count, but Andre was tired, and he didn't want to deal with Cal's bitching anymore, so he decided to leave it.

"How much have you got there?"

"Thousand seven hundred. That's pretty sweet. D'you ever get tempted?"

Absently writing Cal's count on a blank receipt, Andre replied easily.

"No. It's not worth it."

He slipped the days earnings into a plastic seal bag and stashed it in the safe under the counter as Cal replied casually.

"That's a lot of money though, Andre. What would you do with it all? If you did?"

"Could I buy your silence?"

Cal grinned his big toothy grin again.

"Never, that's priceless."

"Okay, what would you do? If you had two thousand big ones."

Expecting a quick and easy answer - probably outlandish or sarcastic - Andre untied his apron and slipped it from over his head, but Cal still hadn't replied once he'd stashed the apron into the bag of dirty rags by the back door.

"Well?"

"Sorry. Just thinking."

"About?"

Cal's fingers were on the salt shakers again, his big smile gone almost completely from his face.

"We could get out of here."

"Uh, yeah, I'm basically done anyway."

"No, Andre, I mean…"

He sighed like a big dog as a shaker finally submitted to gravity and fell over, spilling salt onto the counter.

"… We could, like, get out of here. Skip town. Go someplace far away."

Cal wasn't looking at Andre now. He seemed intent on drawing in the spilled salt with his finger.

Andre felt a block of ice slide down into his stomach. This was a hypothetical, right? A what-if? There was no way Cal was actually doubting the plan, doubting him?

Exhaling carefully and ducking his head, Andre replied without a shake in his voice. There was no need to panic yet.

"How do you figure?"

Silence. Cal was still drawing in the salt. Any other moment, Andre would be pissed that Cal had made more mess for him to clean up, but this was miles more pressing.

"Cal, look at me."

His best friend's head snapped round with enough force to move his greasy bangs away from his eyes. Finger still in the salt. Andre repeated his question.

"How do you figure?"

"I just… I dunno, it's… you asked me what I'd do if I had, like, crazy money. And I guess that's what I'd do. I wanna hang out with you, and I hate this fucking town, and I…" he shifted his gaze back down to his finger in the salt.

"… I just want it to be you and me as long as possible. And I wanna not be here, and everything sucks so much, but if we had crazy money like that…"

"Cal. Are you good?"

"Yeah! Yeah, man, I'm good. I'm so good. I just… I know we gotta do this. Zero Day is the only option, I know. I get it. Glory and mercy and our message, I get it. But I like entertaining shit, you know? I like imagining things."

Andre sucked restaurant-air through his teeth. They shouldn't be having this conversation here.

"C'mon. Let's go."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No. Thinking isn't a crime. I don't wanna make you do anything you don't wanna do. I wanna talk about this. But not here."

"There's nothing to… talk about, really, Andre, I was just talking. I was just saying stuff! Andre?"

Cal called after his friend as he flicked the lights off and headed out of the door, but it was half drowned out by the tinkling of the bell. Andre stood outside and shrugged his jacket on, motioning for Cal to join him outside and brandishing the restaurant keys. He had to lock up. Hastily brushing the salt off the counter and righting the shaker, Cal slipped off his perch and joined Andre outside with an identical tinkle of the bell.

Andre slipped past Cal to lock the front door and gave it an extra tug to check the security. All clear.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he started to walk away from the restaurant. His car was parked right on the sidewalk outside, but he figured it was a good time for a walk. He wasn't tired anymore anyway.

Andre heard the rhythmic scuffing of Cal's footsteps as he briskly caught up with an indignant huff.

"Seriously, Andre, I didn't mean anything by it. I wanna do this. We've been planning it for so long. Don't get all in your head about it. Okay? Please?"

Noticing the pleading octave in Cal's voice, Andre slowed his pace and turned around to face his friend.

"Listen, take a beat. I'm not mad. Or scared, or in my head, or whatever the fuck. I'm concerned."

"I didn't-"

"No, listen. You've concerned me a few times now. With your stupid poetry mission the other day, with your dumb comments, there's just a whole lot of alarm bells ringing right now, okay? I'm concerned because-"

"Because what?"

"Because you have a whole lot more going for you than I do! God. You have your kid brother, your sister, and your friends, and Rachel…"

Andre couldn't help the venom that came with her name, but he pressed on.

"… And what do I have? A stupid job I hate, my pointless grades, my stupid sports, a brother I never see, a place at a dumb university I don't even fucking want, I have nothing. Okay? My life has nothing, it's empty, and you have… you've got…"

The rush of adrenaline that came with his sudden burst of honesty was fizzling out fast. He stopped to take a breath.

"Andre."

"What?"

"If your life is empty, what the fuck makes you think mine isn't? I'm not going to university. My friends don't even like me, and Rachel is… weird. Lately. She's weird with me."

"That's because of me."

"So what?" Cal's voice took on a sharp snap for the first time that evening. "So fucking what? You're part of my life."

There was a silence so thick you could scoop it with a spoon, the passing of cars the only thing keeping it from becoming deadly.

"And…" Cal continued quietly, unsure. "…And I'm part of yours too, right?"

"Of course you are. You're my best friend."

"Exactly. So don't ever fucking say your life is empty. Okay? That makes me feel like shit."

Andre blinked. Suddenly, Cal's reasoning made sense. They were each other's lives. They were all the other had. Of course Cal didn't want that to end. Of course he'd thought about skipping town, driving away and never looking back. As long as they were together.

"Apologize."

Andre laughed nervously, finally looking at Cal. He wasn't smiling back.

"What?"

"I said apologize."

"I…"

Swallowing thickly, his hand suddenly sweaty against the keys in his pocket, Andre trained his gaze steadily on his best friend's face.

"I'm sorry. Okay? I've got the best friend in the world. And he's not nothing. He's awesome. And I can say anything I want to him and he doesn't judge me. And he's never let me down. And he gets me."

Cal's stare was unreadable. A bubble of shame rose in Andre's throat. He wanted more than anything for it to burst.

"And… and he has a huge dick too."

That caught him off guard. A high pitched laugh rang from Cal as he reached out to shake Andre's shoulder.

"You'd better believe it. I'm King Kong, pHD."

Thank god. Relief washed over Andre, and he straightened his back as he laughed loudly. He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid.

"We're cool?"

"Hell yeah we're cool. Definitely. But I'm cooler."

"Sure, yeah. Way cooler."

His best friend. It felt like they'd been born knowing each other. Their meeting in sixth grade had been karmic, a gift for the two of them. And eventually, Andre half thought, a gift for their stupid fucking high school too. But Andre didn't want to get ahead of himself. The day would come. Time would pass.