Generation Loss

[MethodicalSlacker]

Navy SEAL quote? Now they were talking.

Max hadn't made any edits to the page yet, but he sure as hell was looking at it. His cursor was placed square in the middle of the essay—Bert was sure that if she counted the words from one end to the other, she'd find that he had the median word highlighted exactly, perhaps even down to the letter. She didn't register him as a math guy, but she did peg him as a weirdo, and that was good enough. Bert scrolled down further and placed her cursor at the bottom of the page, ready to type nonsense words just to offset Max's garbage, when suddenly a commotion started in the line.

Apparently, someone hadn't been served their coffee. Siyanda and the angry parent exchanged some words—Bert even recognized the poor girl that was stuck with the complaining customer consumer citizen crummy creepo c-word—but after a short while Bert's eyes drifted to the cartoon bear on her cup.

It's my fault in some way, isn't it? Ze was too focused on the bear, and not enough on the order.

She closed her laptop and sighed. There wasn't any way to communicate that to Desiree, was there? She could maybe tell Dean when he came over, but there wouldn't be any point to that. Siyanda couldn't find out, that'd only make zir feel bad, and Desiree's mom wasn't someone Bert wanted to be any closer to than she had to be right now. For a split second the thought of making a comment on the google doc crossed her mind, of asking Max advice on what to do, but she figured he was tied up with his own things at the moment or else he would have already marked up the essay more.

If she was less depressed right now, she would hold her phone up to her ear and fake one end of a conversation. She picked up the habit to cheer herself up from an anime she saw a couple years ago (Durarara? Spice and Wolf? Toradora? None of those seemed correct). It worked, most of the time, but only if she was just melancholy. Right now, she felt absolutely glum and guilty, and there was nothing she could do to let it out.

But what she could let out was a sigh. Looking back at the line, she hoped that Dean would take his seat soon.

[Pippi]

Wuh-oh. That was bad news. The always terrifying "Excuse me miss" uttered from the mouth of a customer that sent a chill down the spine of baristas and cashiers across the country. Desiree's mom didn't look like she had a roll of expired coupons in her back pocket, and she hadn't spelled her daughter's name something incredibly pretentious and white, like "Dezeyerii", but still, the mere potential of screaming and asking to see the manager caused Dean's heart to plummet.

And of course, poor Siyanda was going to get caught up right in the middle of it all. They didn't deserve that. Of course, none of the other baristas here deserved it, but Siyanda definitely didn't, considering they'd literally just got here. Dean glanced at Desiree, then at Siyanda, both of whom looked like they wanted to sink into the ground right now, then at the back of Desiree's mom's head. He tapped his fingers against his prosthetic, a nervous tic he'd developed. The dull metal noise was soothing somehow. He shook his head gently, then stepped forwards so he was in Mrs. Beck's line of sight.

"Hey, sorry, that's my bad," Dean said, raising his hand in apology. "Took ages to decide on my order and kinda held everything up a ton. I'm real sorry, I'll get moving now."

Dean smiled and nodded at Siyanda. Hopefully they'd get this all sorted out soon enough, then they'd be able to take a break and hang out, and, of course, shittalk Max. He grabbed his longboard, quickly looping his little finger around his headphone cord to stop it getting tangled up in the wheels, then gave the same smile-nod at Desiree. Maybe they could all hang out together, although, with Desiree's mom looming over her, that was a little less likely.

He strode over to where Bert was sitting, giving her the ol' nod and smile routine for a third time.

"'Sup."

He took a seat, leaning his board against his chair, wheels facing up so it didn't suddenly roll off and cause a series of slapstick events that Sideshow Bob would have been proud of. He idly span one of the wheels. Hmmm. Sounded like that one could do with tightening. Oh well, that was something to consider later. He turned to look at Bert, eyes quickly glancing over the little bear drawing on her coffee cup. Heh. Cute. He wondered if he'd get some sorta cute animal on his cup.

"Probably gonna have to get up soon, grab my drink, try and play peacemaker if Desiree's mom gets outta hand, but I figured I was probably holding the line up too long already. So how's things going? Aside from the whole Max debacle."

[Jilly]

Desiree's mother glared at Dean as he gave a half-hearted apology, or at least that's what Desiree could make out from both the noise pollution of the bourgeois atmosphere and her growing desire to jam a plastic straw in her own eye. Desiree watched Dean as he fled her mother (What was with that nod? Weirdo.) and joined a girl sitting with her laptop open—oh, of course, make that three people from school. They were probably already talking about the Asian cuntomer and her weird daughter and having a big old laugh about it.

Her mother stormed back to their table. She rummaged through her purse, muttering something colorful under her breath as Desiree took another sip; her grip tightened on the cup as she silently watched her mother's growing rampage.

Her mother ripped out the receipt and journeyed back to the front, cutting the line and flashing the receipt in Siyanda's face. "Venti iced caramel coconut milk macchiatto. Espresso shot," she said as she slapped the receipt onto the counter.

[backslash]

Well, Siyanda had only asked for halfway civilized, hadn't ze.

And what a stupid order. Ze wasn't surprised. Espresso shot on top of all that sugar? No wonder Desiree's mom was high-strung. After passing Dean's cup down the counter so it could wait on Rae to get back, ze pulled a plastic venti cup from the nearby stack and scribbled the abbreviation for Desiree's mom's mockery-worthy drink onto the side. Hell, maybe ze had taken the order before, right at the start of the shift. That or ze'd had about this exact experience just too many times to count by now.

"And your name?" Siyanda glanced back up, marker poised over the side of the cup, plastic customer service smile firmly in place. A glance down the line informed zem that the few people waiting on this little debacle were shifting around uncomfortably or buried in their phones. None of them looked impatient enough yet to join in on the scene, nor did anybody seem likely to step in.

Siyanda was tempted to drag things out just a little longer in response to how unpleasant Desiree's mom was being, but that would probably just make her angrier. Of course, she seemed like a paragon of reason and benevolence to begin with, so there probably wasn't much Siyanda could do that wouldn't make her angrier.

Kiss my ass-presso, how about that, ze thought, and had to clench zir teeth behind the fake smile so that ze wouldn't laugh out on accident at the stupid, lame pun zir overtired brain had decided to come up with. God, ze needed a nap. Ze'd had one right before work, impromptu as it was, but ze needed another.

[MethodicalSlacker]

Things were escalating over at the counter. Siyanda looked more and more like ze wanted to quit with each passing moment, and Desiree's mom got more and more agitated, even as her needs were seemingly being met. Bert glanced around at a few of the other customers. There were a few middle school kids in one booth that were recording the argument on their phones, staring wide eyed at what couldn't possibly be the first time they saw a customer get mad at a cashier before. For a split moment Bert recognized one of the girls from a figure skating class at the rink that she sat in on once before she turned her eyes elsewhere. Some weird hipster looking guy at one of the tables that had his head buried in a copy of a book that looked like something the Starbucks would sell. A lady speaking on the phone in rapid Spanish. Besides the middle schoolers, Bert couldn't see anyone that was looking at the counter debacle, though this might have been due to her position in a booth.

Dean had said that this was all his fault, but Bert knew that was (probably) wrong. Each passing second was a second that she hesitated to explain what (she thought) was the answer to the conundrum, but thinking on it more she realized that a possible explanation would only make everyone involved look bad. Miss Beck could assert that Siyanda was more focused on zir friends than on zir job, and then that would just erupt into a whole new can of worms.

"I think," she said, "I'm a little upset right now."

She couldn't take it anymore. She peaked around outside of the booth, leaning out of her seat further than she had before to see if any others in the cafe were looking at the dispute. It didn't matter who she saw, though. Even if they weren't staring now, they would be in a few moments, or they had already. Maybe they were just pretending to look. She felt a little shiver go through her shoulders, just a touch of nerves bustling like the gentle rumbling of kitchenware on a shelf in a kitchen right next to some train tracks.

"I thought I'd be able to get some work done today."

She sighed, and exaggerated a shrug. Really brought those shoulders up. Hands flat horizontal. 45 degree angle on the elbows. Emoji-perfect.

"Maybe I'll head over to the library, even though I don't really like it there either. A bit better to work in, though? I dunno, what do you think?"

[Pippi]

Oof. Man, it looked like Dean had wandered himself right into the crossfire here, huh? Tensions rising at the counter behind him. An upset girl at the booth in front of him. Alright, kinda a tenuous use of the word ‘crossfire’, he’d admit, but still, you got the gist. All he’d wanted was to grab a coffee, maybe chat with a couple people he knew from school, then head on out to get new headphones, and now, drama was unfolding around him.

Ah well. Wasn’t the first time that’d happen, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. And this absolutely paled in comparison to, well, anything that happened when you spent even a couple of minutes hanging around Ivy and her crew.

“I get you.”

Dean moved his hand away from his board and his eyes away from the cartoon bear on the coffee cup, dedicating his full attention to Bert. He nodded as he spoke, fixing her with a sympathetic look.

“Been in that boat before. It always feels kinda… gross inside, when you make plans to get something done and it just doesn’t pan out, right? But, hey, day’s still young, right? Maybe a change of environment would help matters. ‘Specially considering what’s going down in this environment right now.”

Dean glanced over at the counter again. Desiree’s mom wasn’t saying anything particularly inflammatory anymore. For the moment, at least. Fingers crossed it stayed that way. He looked back at Bert, giving her soft smile.

“Doesn’t feel right leaving Siyanda alone to deal with this, though, not ‘til Mrs. Beck’s gotten her order. I think I’m gonna wait and see how this turns out, then I can come with, if you’d like, maybe drag Si along with, if you’re cool with that.”

Dean paused in his speech, studying Bert’s facial expression. He’d said quite a lot already, in comparison to Bert’s relatively scant conversation, but he felt like he needed to say just one more thing whilst it was in his head.

“There anything else bothering you? Not trying to pry, scout’s honour. Just wanna know if I can help.”

[Jilly]

What Desiree wouldn't give to disappear right now. Everyone in line looked like they wanted to say something but decided to pretend to check Twitter for the 28th time in a row because they don't want to get in between a VIP and her victim. A group of middle school girls were recording the shitshow on one of their phones. Desiree fantasized about getting up and just smashing that phone on the ground, but it wouldn't fix the problem. There was nothing she could do.

Desiree's phone buzzed; it was just some rando/probable spam bot leaving a comment on one of her super old videos from probably 2013, nothing exciting. But she took this opportunity to call for help.

[+] Parker Green

"Who are you talking to?"

Desiree's fingers stopped as her eyes shot up and saw her mother leering from across the table. She tapped the sleep button and flipped the phone over on the table. "N-no one, ma'am."

"I see," her mother scoffed. "I'm going to the restroom; please get my drink if my name gets called." Desiree nodded, and with that she was now left to fend for herself from the people still ogling. At least now that 7th grader put away her phone; she probably got bored it wasn't going to resolve in a police arrest.

Vulture.

[backslash]

It was a movie-perfect finish, with Desiree's mom giving her name -- Marisa, with only one "s", thank you very much, only she didn't say thank you at all -- and then storming back off. From the looks of it, she turned some of the vitriol onto Desiree before leaving the Starbucks altogether, presumably on some other very important errand that required yelling at minimum wage workers.

Siyanda had a brief, very depressing moment of wondering if ze had just gotten an intimate look at what Desiree's home life was usually like. Ze wrote Melisa on the venti cup ze had selected instead of Marisa and felt a bit better.

Rae finally re-emerged from the back, looking vaguely guilty in a way that suggested she had heard the commotion going on outside and decided to wait it out. Siyanda handed her the cup without preamble as she resumed her place behind the counter. "Venti iced caramel coconut milk macchiatto. Espresso shot. Don't ask."

Ze shot a glance over at Bert and Dean, half-hoping to make eye contact with one of them. How long was it until zir break now? It felt like ze'd already been on the clock for an eternity. Maybe by the time ze reached the end of this line, ze could take a moment.

"I can help the next person," Siyanda called out, absently twirling the marker again as the waiting customers seemed to breathe a collective, subdued sigh of relief and shuffled forward again. None of them mentioned what had just transpired in front of them. Siyanda didn't mention it either. Business as usual once more.

[MethodicalSlacker]

She appreciated the sentiment from Dean—really, she did—about coming with her. It was honestly a little sweet of him, to make sure that she was okay. If Bert said that she wasn't touched a little, she'd be fibbing. But at the same time, he also made it clear that he wanted to wait and get involved with the situation at the counter further before he did, and that rubbed Bert the wrong way. She wasn't sure that she wanted to hang out either way. She was going to go somewhere that she could get work done, not socialize. Bert knew that she was lucky to not be too involved to be able to extricate herself from the situation.

"Oh no, no, don't worry, everything's fine," Bert said, "But, um, I think I'm going to go now." It was a hard decision to make, especially since she hadn't finished her coffee yet, but she knew it was the right one. Into her bag her laptop went. "You should go see if you can say hi to Desiree. She looks like she wants to be rescued."

She slung her backpack over her shoulder with a huff. Taking her coffee cup in hand, she said a quick goodbye to Dean and then walked to the door. Siyanda was back at the counter. Bert gave zir a wave and a smile and kept walking on. Desiree looked like she was caught up with her mother, so Bert would have to wait to talk to her until later.

Stepping out into the mall proper, Bert knew that she'd have to go far, far away to get any chance at peace and quiet. Her house wouldn't do right now. The whole reason why she hadn't stayed there in the first place was because the bathroom floor was getting re-tiled. Any of her friend's houses were out of the question; she'd only get distracted there. Really, there was only one place that made sense to get some serious work done at. She pulled out her phone and checked if traffic allowed for an Uber or a Lyft over, or if she'd be better off walking. Regardless, she walked to the mall's main entrance, fully prepared to buckle down for the long journey to her destination.

Bert was going to the library.

[Bert Wren continued elsewhere.]

[Pippi]

“She really does, doesn’t she?”

Dean chuckled softly, shooting a glance at Desiree again. ‘Wanting to be rescued’ wasn’t the half of it. The poor girl looked like she wanted to be evacuated, for the whole Starbucks to be burned down to remove any evidence, and for her mind to be wiped like she’d wandered onto a scene outta Men in Black. And that was without her mom lurking around the place.

“But hey, yeah, no worries. Take care, yeah? I’ll see you around.”

He waved Bert goodbye, then as soon as she was out of the building, he leaned back in his seat and sighed. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d misplayed that whole conversation. Bert had seemed happy for the company at first, eager to sit down and work with Dean on their schoolwork and maybe, possibly, shittalk the more… assholey of George Hunter’s student populous. But just now, she’d scuttled away from her seat like it had been set on fire. Maybe she just wanted some alone time and she was being as polite as she could be to get it.

Dean pulled a face, then shrugged, smiled, and relaxed into his chair. Well, if that was the case, definitely best to just let her go to the library. And if it wasn’t the case? … Definitely best to just let her go to the library. No need to pry on what could be a personal issue. Dean had asked if anything was up, and she hadn’t told him either way, and that was totally cool. She could tell whoever she wanted to tell whenever she wanted to tell it, and hey, maybe he had misread this whole thing and she was totally fine!

Jeez. Wasn’t he supposed to be the super chill one? This was an awful lot of fretting and not chilling. Turns out you worried when your friends didn’t seem like they were doing too hot, weird concept, huh?

Dean spun the wheels on his longboard idly once more, then stood up, stretching as he did so. He manoeuvred his way around the tightly packed chairs and tables back towards the counter, leaving his board leaning against his seat to mark that there was somebody sitting there. Still a chance that Siyanda had time to take a load off, or that they’d be able to drag Desiree away from her mom for a little bit, after all.

“Yo, Siyanda, Des,” Dean said, grinning at the two as he walked up, leaning against the coffee drop-off point to make sure he didn’t get in the way of the rest of the queue. “Bert’s headed off to the library to get some, like, focused work done and stuff. Everything okay here? Things, uh… cooled down a little bit?”

He shot a sympathetic smile at them both.

[Jilly]

[+] Parker Green

Desiree looked up from the phone screen and watched as Bert booked it out of the café. Probably upset the show was over.

Everyone else returned to business as usual, wearing facades as if the last couple of minutes never happened. Talking amongst themselves in the queue, side-eyeing Desiree as if she couldn't see them. She took her last sip of the bland coffee and threw it away, moving closer to the pickup area to wait for her mother's order with arms crossed.

She glanced at Siyanda as he took another customer's order, his fist clenching a Sharpie marker like it would erupt ink any second. She turned away and watched the other worker frantically run around to catch up on the new orders, understandably taking her time getting around to Desiree's mother's whenever she felt like it.

Ugh, maybe if she pretended to be deaf Dean would leave her out of whatever crap he was trying to pull. She rolled her eyes, taking care to not let him see; as if Mr. Diplomat cared about her! He should go bother Bert if he didn't have anything better to do.

Leave Desiree alone.

[backslash]

"It's fine," Siyanda said to Dean once there was another lull in the line. Desiree hadn't acknowledged them, and ze returned the favor. "You know how it is."

Did Dean know how it was? Probably not. That was an extremely vague statement to begin with. Siyanda wasn't sure that ze zirself knew how it was, or what "it" was in the first place. Life, ze supposed. Life sure was. Full stop.

The next customer approached the register, and Siyanda turned zir attention back to taking the next few orders before glancing over at Dean again. "Are you going to the library too after your errands, or...?" If he was waiting on zem to go on break, that was... nice. Dean was nice. Siyanda would have liked to talk to him more if ze wasn't slammed for time literally always.

God, finally the end of the line for now. Siyanda would have liked to have some words with whoever decided they only needed two employees in the shop at rush hour. Hadn't there been an additional person clocked in when ze got here?

Siyanda was tired, still tired, and now afflicted with the disconcerting feeling that the world was moving all around zem in a rush while ze was still stuck in a fog. Mechanically, ze started moving to prepare zir own coffee now that the customer activity had died down. Sleep wasn't an option and meth wasn't appealing yet, so legal drugs it was.

"Did she tell Rudolph to go fuck himself?" Ze asked Dean belatedly, letting the customer service voice drop now.

[Pippi]

Well, Desiree was giving Dean her best impression of a brick wall right now. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards as he turned to look at Siyanda, the closest to a grimace his eternally relaxed expression could manage. He wasn’t annoyed at Desiree’s reaction, not exactly. More the fact that he’d now ended up sticking his nose into two people’s businesses when they really hadn’t wanted him to. In the span of, like, three minutes, to boot. Ugh. Normally he was better at this. Better at getting a read of people.

Maybe he needed that coffee way more than he’d first thought.

He waited a little bit, hands unclenching in his pockets, as the line thinned out, and more people jumped onboard to bail Siyanda out, as the little patch of fog in his head dissipated. Gave him more time to get that easygoing smile back on his face, and for Si to finally get some space.

“Not in so many words, no,” Dean said, once Siyanda had gotten themselves away from their latest customer. “But I’m, like, 90% sure that essay’s gonna wind up with ‘Fuck You Max Rudolph’ written somewhere in the bibliography.”

Dean chuckled softly, running his hand up through the back of his hair; an action that didn’t take too long, considering how short he kept it cut. It was one of a handful of little nervous tics Dean had, little stress relieving actions he kept on rotation whenever he was pushed out of his normal veneer of chilled out relaxation. Stuff that looked just like normal actions, performed unconsciously.

That, of course, was the point.

“But I’m pretty sure she wants to just, like, knuckle down and finish her work by herself, so, hey, I’mma just leave her be. ‘sides, like I said, it’d be cool to hang out, whenever you get a spare moment.”

Dean glanced at the counter, then flashed a grin at Siyanda.

“You want me to hop over there and start helping out? Dunno how to make any sorta fancy coffee, but I can, uh, wash a mug up pretty damn well.”

[Jilly]

Desiree's frown flattened out as she bit the inside of her lip, listening to Siyanda and Dean's conversation. Maybe Bert and them really were just talking about some dumb essay. Of course, maybe they were just covering their tracks too now that Desiree was in their orbit. That was probable, too.

"Order for... Malasada?" The other lady behind the counter called out, squinting at the handwritten name. Desiree looked left and right. No one else seemed to be gunning for this one, so with a slightly raised eyebrow Desiree accepted the bean water and headed back to her seat.

But first, a detour. She stopped halfway down the road and returned to the counter with Siyanda and Dean standing around. "Sorry," she said, her eyes staring through Siyanda's neck before she retreated back to her table.

Within a couple more minutes, her mother returned and took a sip from the cup as Desiree held her breath. Her mother set it back down, satisfied enough to not start another scene.

"We need to get going. Grab our things," she commanded, waiting for Desiree to grab the bags before picking the cup back up and leading the train out of the Starbucks with a steady pace.

((Desiree Beck continued in Say Yes! To T!nn!ss!!))

[backslash]

Siyanda's eyes followed Desiree and her mother until they were safely out of range. Once the coast was clear, ze let zir shoulders drop and freed the deep, exasperated sigh that had been locked up in zir chest for the past... oh, however long it had been now. Time was an illusion.

"It's fine," ze told Dean. Over zir shoulder, ze called to Rae. "I'm going on break." Rae called back her acknowledgement from the sink, and Siyanda removed zir apron and hat before rounding the counter with coffee in hand. Ze got to Dean's side before it quite clicked that now ze was obligated to make actual conversation without any distractions.

"...So what are you up to now."