Jimmy Swanks' voice cuts through the air like a neon sign in the dark, making my blood freeze in my veins. Holly and I lock eyes in the storage room.
"Wait here," I whisper, my voice barely audible even to myself.
I stumble out into the store, running a shaky hand through my hair in a futile attempt to look normal. My uniform is wrinkled and disheveled, sweat cooling uncomfortably against my skin. The fluorescent lights feel too bright, exposing everything I'm desperate to hide.
"Hey Jimmy," I manage, my voice cracking slightly as I approach the counter.
Swanks is resplendent tonight in a canary yellow suit with purple pinstripes, a matching durag wrapped around his head. His mirrored sunglasses reflect my guilty face back at me, doubled and distorted.
Before I can say anything else, the storage room door swings open. Holly emerges like she owns the place, her cheeks flushed pink, hair slightly mussed despite her attempts to smooth it. There's a glow about her, a satisfied radiance that makes my stomach twist with shame.
Jimmy's head swivels between us, his gold grill catching the light as his mouth drops open slightly. Even behind those mirrored shades, I can feel his eyes widening as he puts the pieces together.
"Is this the silver goddess's daughter you told me about?" he asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet as he tilts his sunglasses down his nose to peer at Holly over the rims.
I sigh, defeated. "Yeah."
Jimmy strokes his chin thoughtfully, the rings on his fingers catching the fluorescent light. "The Swankster's powers of perception are telling him that you two were just engaged in some back-room copulation." He gestures between Holly and me with a bejeweled hand. "Am I correct in my assessment of the situation?"
My mouth goes dry. The truth spills out before I can stop it. "Yeah."
Jimmy stands perfectly still, an unusual sight for someone normally in constant motion. The silence stretches between us until it feels physical, like a fourth person in the room.
Then, with the dramatic flair of a stage performer, Jimmy extends his arm fully, index finger pointing directly at Holly. His gold rings glint under the harsh store lights.
"The swanks believes," he announces in his theatrical baritone, "that you are forcing my friend here into sex."
Holly's confident expression falters. Her brow furrows as she turns to me, eyes narrowing behind those wire-rimmed glasses. "You told him?" The accusation in her voice is sharp enough to cut.
"No, Jimmy just…" I start, desperate to explain.
"Jimmy Swanks doesn't need to be told anything," he interrupts, pushing his sunglasses higher on his nose. "The Swanks has eyes that see beyond the veil of deception. And what The Swanks sees right now is a young man in distress."
Holly recovers quickly, her momentary confusion morphing into that calculating smile I've grown to dread. She steps closer to me, sliding her arm through mine with practiced casualness.
"I think you've misread the situation," she says, her voice honey-sweet. "Daniel and I have a very special relationship. Don't we, baby?"
Her fingers dig into my arm, a subtle reminder of what's at stake. The video. My future. Emily.
Jimmy stares down at Holly, his usual theatrical demeanor hardening into something more authentic. He slides his sunglasses completely off, tucking them into his breast pocket with deliberate care.
"Look, little lady," he says, his voice dropping the third-person affectation, "I'm not sure what's got you love-struck over my friend here, but forcing yourself on him ain't the way." His eyes flick to my face, taking in what must be obvious misery. "Can't you see you're stressing the poor kid out? If you really want his heart, maybe try winning him over the right way."
Holly's grip on my arm tightens to the point of pain. Her smile remains fixed, but I feel her body tensing beside me.
"I appreciate your concern, but you don't understand our relationship," she says, her voice still sweet but with an edge like a sugar-coated razor blade. "Daniel and I have an arrangement that works for both of us."
"James T. Swanks very much doubts that," he says slowly, emphasizing each word like he's tasting them. "Swanky has seen coercion before, little lady. Recognizes it like an old enemy."
"Jimmy, just drop it," I plead, my voice barely above a whisper. "She's got me by the balls here, man. Literally and figuratively."
Jimmy's expression softens as he looks at me, the flashy exterior momentarily giving way to genuine concern. He rubs his chin thoughtfully, the gold rings on his fingers catching the fluorescent light.
"Young blood," he says, his voice gentler than I've ever heard it, "Swankatron has learned in his many years of street wisdom that things are very rarely as bad as they seem."
Holly's laugh cuts through the air, sharp and brittle like breaking glass.
"But sometimes they are, Mr. Swanks," she says, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Sometimes things are exactly as bad as they seem. Worse, even."
Before Jimmy can respond, the chime of the door signals another visitor. A small woman with long braids and flowing clothes enters the store, her movements quick but tentative. Her eyes dart around until they find Jimmy.
"James? Are you alright?" she asks, her voice soft with concern. "You've been gone so long, I got worried."
Jimmy's entire demeanor shifts, softening around the edges. "The Swanks is perfectly fine, my turtle dove. Just having a conversation with young Daniel here."
The woman approaches us, her steps light and deliberate. She's dressed in layers of earthy fabrics, adorned with crystals and beads that catch the fluorescent light. When she notices me, her face breaks into a warm smile.
"Oh, hello, Daniel," she says, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Hello, Mrs. Swanks," I respond automatically, grateful for the interruption. Jenny has accompanied Jimmy to the store several times before, always radiating a gentle kindness.
She waves her hand dismissively. "Please, just Jenny. Mrs. Swanks makes me sound like James's mother." Her words come out unhurried, each syllable given its full weight.
Jimmy wraps an arm around her shoulders. Jenny smiles up at him before her attention shifts to Holly, who's still clutching my arm like it's a life preserver. Jenny's eyes narrow slightly as she studies Holly with uncomfortable intensity.
"Oh my," Jenny murmurs, her hand rising to her throat. "Your aura is extremely soggy, dear." She tilts her head, squinting as if trying to see something invisible to the rest of us. "Did you just have sexual relations with someone that doesn't like you?"
Holly's mouth falls open. Her fingers release my arm as she takes a step back, eyes wide with shock behind her glasses.
"What the actual fuck is with the people who shop here?" she sputters, looking between Jimmy and Jenny like they're aliens who've just landed in the Quick Mart.
"At least these ones are nice," I mutter, thankful Diesal Steve hasn't shown up.
Jenny turns her attention back to me, her dreamy gaze softening with concern. "Oh, Daniel," she says, reaching into the flowing pockets of her skirt, "before I forget, I've been worried about your nutritional alignment."
She extends her palm toward me, revealing several smooth stones in varying shades of green and brown. They glint under the harsh fluorescent lights as she deposits them into my outstretched hand.
"Thank you," I say automatically, staring down at the small pile of rocks now weighing down my palm.
What the fuck am I supposed to do with these? Are they supposed to be eaten? Carried? I wait for some explanation, but Jenny just smiles serenely, apparently satisfied that she's solved some problem I didn't know I had.
I slip the stones into my pocket, their cool weight settling against my thigh. Jenny nods approvingly, like I've passed some cosmic test.
"Jimmy baby," she says, turning to her husband and touching his arm gently, "we're really in a rush to get to the party, baby. We should grab what we need and let these young people continue their... conversation."
Jimmy doesn't move. His eyes remain fixed on me, reflecting concern behind those mirrored shades that have somehow found their way back onto his face. Holly shifts uncomfortably beside me, her earlier confidence visibly shaken by Jenny's unexpected aura reading.
"It's fine, really," I say, forcing a smile that feels like it might crack my face. "I appreciate you guys stopping by."
Jimmy nods slowly, reluctantly. "Alright, if you say so. But you have my digits, my little protégé. The Swanks is available for consultation day or night, should your situation become... untenable."
The weight of his words hangs in the air between us. I take the card, nodding my thanks as Jimmy leads Jenny toward the snack aisle, though he keeps glancing back at me over his shoulder.
Jimmy returns to the counter with an armful of snacks and drinks. I ring them up mechanically, my movements wooden as Holly hovers nearby, her presence like a weight on my chest. Jenny stands slightly behind her husband, still studying Holly with that unnervingly perceptive gaze.
"That'll be twenty-seven fifty," I say, bagging their items with trembling hands.
Jimmy slips me a fifty and waves away the change. "The Swanks is feeling generous tonight. Consider it a tip for exceptional service."
I try to protest, but he's already guiding Jenny toward the door, their colorful figures like exotic birds against the bland convenience store backdrop. At the last moment, Jimmy turns, lowering his sunglasses to lock eyes with me.
"Remember what The Swanks told you, young blood. No situation is permanent unless you decide it is."
The bell chimes as they exit, leaving a vacuum of silence in their wake. Holly stands frozen for several seconds, staring at the door like she's trying to process what just happened.
"I don't understand..." she finally says, her voice uncharacteristically small. "James T. Swanks? Who the actual fuck was that?"
I sigh, leaning against the counter for support. My legs still feel like jelly, my mind reeling from the rapid shifts in this nightmarish evening. "Don't think about it too hard. I used to think he was a pimp, but then I met Jenny." I shake my head, almost smiling despite everything. "Honestly, I have no idea what he is."
Holly turns to me, adjusting her glasses with that precise gesture I've come to recognize. "Are all your friends fucking freaks?"
The question hangs in the air between us. I stare at the linoleum floor, suddenly aware of how pathetic my life must seem from the outside.
"Swanks is my only friend," I admit, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
Holly stares at me, her expression shifting from mockery to something that might almost be pity. "That's sad."
I shrug, trying to appear unaffected by her judgment. "I guess I have my cousin, who's kinda like you, though, too."
Her eyebrows shoot up behind those wire-rimmed glasses. "You have a cousin that wants to sleep with you?"
"No," I say quickly, remembering our previous conversation about this. "I said it before. They're autistic."
Holly blinks several times, her brain visibly processing my words. Her face flushes crimson as understanding dawns, her eyes narrowing to dangerous slits.
"I'M NOT FUCKING AUTISTIC," she snarls, stepping toward me with such sudden ferocity that I flinch back.
"There's nothing wrong with it," I say, raising my hands in a placating gesture. "My mom did a hell of a lot worse than take Tylenol when she was pregnant with me. There's zero shame in it."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, DANIEL!"