The fluorescent lights of Quick Mart turn everything the color of old dishwater, including Sienna's smile as she leans against the counter, giggling at something Zack just said.
12:21 AM. Another shift, another eight hours of pretending I give a shit.
Zack's still here, twenty minutes after dropping Sienna off. He's tall, built like he still hits the gym regularly even though his football days are long behind him. The kind of guy who peaked in high school and doesn't realize it yet. His work boots are scuffed, his t-shirt fitted just enough to show off muscles earned through actual labor rather than vanity.
I'm restocking the chip aisle, trying to tune out their flirting, when his attention suddenly shifts to me.
"Hey," he calls out, his voice carrying that easy confidence that comes from never being rejected. "You went to high school with us, right?"
I glance up from the Doritos display. "Yeah."
His eyes go wide, recognition dawning across his face like a fucking sunrise. "Oh shit, yeah dude. I heard about you."
My hands pause mid-reach for another bag of chips. Something cold settles in my stomach.
"You had that bum mom," Zack continues, completely oblivious to how his words land. "My friends told me you had to drop out to basically cover your mom's cancer payments."
My eyebrow flicks up before I can control it. The chip bag crinkles in my suddenly tight grip. "I never told anyone from school that."
"My friend Jerry from the football team," Zack explains, leaning back against the counter with casual ease. "His mom was one of the nurses that helped with chemo. She saw you always helping your mom out and stuff."
The fluorescent lights suddenly feel too bright. My throat closes up, memories flooding back unbidden. Mom's skeletal frame in that hospital bed. The bills stacking up like accusations.
"Yeah," I manage, my voice coming out flat. I turn back to the chips, needing something to do with my hands.
"Wow," Sienna says, and when I glance at her, there's something like pity softening her brown eyes. "You really had it tough."
The sympathy in her voice makes my skin crawl. I shrug, shoving another bag onto the rack with more force than necessary. "It's fine."
Zack's expression shifts, becoming more serious. "Did she recover?"
I shake my head, focusing on the perfectly aligned rows of chips in front of me. "No."
"Shit, man." His voice drops, and when I glance at him, there's genuine sadness in his eyes. "That must have been really hard."
The sympathy grates against something raw inside me. "It wasn't," I say, the words coming out sharper than I intend. "She spent my entire life chasing the next high. Only got clean because cancer didn't give her a choice." I shove another bag onto the shelf. "Part of me wishes she'd recovered. But she would've gone right back to drugs the second she could."
The silence that follows feels heavy. I can feel both of them staring at me, but I keep my eyes fixed on the chip display, my hands moving on autopilot.
"That's..." Sienna starts, then stops. "I'm sorry, Daniel."
I shrug again, that universal gesture of pretending shit doesn't matter. "It is what it is."
Zack clears his throat, and I can practically hear him scrambling for a subject change. "So you're married now though, right? Sienna mentioned it."
"Yeah." I grab another box of chips from my cart, grateful for the distraction.
"That's awesome, dude." His voice brightens, back to that easy confidence. "How'd you meet?"
I shrug, reaching for another bag of chips. "Oh, you know. Around."
"That's cool, man," Zack says, nodding like I've just shared something profound instead of completely dodging his question.
"I really love her," I add, and the words come out more defensive than I intend. Like I need to prove something to this guy I barely know.
"That's even better, dude." Zack's smile widens, genuine warmth in his expression. "Nothing beats being with someone you're crazy about."
The glass door chimes, and I glance up reflexively, expecting some drunk looking for beer or cigarettes.
Emily.
My heart does this weird stutter-stop thing in my chest. She just dropped me off less than thirty minutes ago. The silver braid, the expensive clothes that make her look like she stepped out of some fashion magazine, she's completely out of place in the fluorescent wasteland of Quick Mart.
Her eyes find me immediately, and she's moving before I can even process what's happening. Her arms wrap around me tight, pulling me against her chest in a way that makes the chip bag in my hand crinkle loudly.
"Danny," she breathes into my hair, and something in her voice makes my stomach drop.
I pull back enough to look at her face. "What is it?"
"I have some bad news." Her fingers tighten on my uniform vest, like she's afraid I'll disappear if she lets go. "I'm going to have to go on a work trip tomorrow. For a couple of days."
The words settle over me like cold water. Work trip. I can read through the euphemism clear as day. A client's paying her to spend a few nights with them. Multiple nights. Not just an hour or two, but sleeping in someone else's bed, waking up next to someone who isn't me.
"When do you leave?" I ask, my voice coming out steadier than I feel.
"Tomorrow around noon."
"Why not just text me? You drove all the way here for this?"
Emily glances around, suddenly aware of our audience. Sienna and Zack are both staring at us with undisguised curiosity. She leans in close, her breath warm against my ear as she drops her voice to a whisper.
"Because this is the first time I'm going overnight with a client since we've been together." Her fingers grip my vest tighter. "I felt bad. I wanted to tell you face to face."
I force my lips into something resembling a smile, leaning in so my words are only for her. "I trust you, Emily. It's fine."
Her arms tighten around me like I've just given her permission to breathe. She pulls me closer, her silver hair brushing against my cheek as she buries her face in my neck. The familiar scent of her perfume wraps around me, grounding me even as my stomach churns with feelings I can't quite name.
"That's your wife?"
Sienna's voice cuts through the moment, sharp with surprise. I turn my head slightly, keeping Emily close, and meet Sienna's wide brown eyes. Her whole expression has shifted, confusion mixing with something that looks almost like disbelief.
"Yes," I say, my arm wrapping more firmly around Emily's waist. The word comes out possessively.
Zack's eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline. His mouth opens slightly, then closes again. He's staring at Emily like he's trying to solve a complex equation, his gaze tracking from her expensive clothes to her silver hair to the way she's clinging to me.
Emily pulls back just enough to look at them, and I watch her slip seamlessly into that polished version of herself. The vulnerability from seconds ago disappears behind a warm smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"Hi," she says, her voice taking on that melodic quality that makes people instinctively trust her. "I'm Emily. Danny's wife."
"Sienna," Sienna manages, but she's still staring. "We went to high school together."
"That's nice." Emily's fingers find mine, interlacing with a grip that's just a touch too tight. "Danny's mentioned you."
Sienna's eyes flick between us, and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. The age difference is obvious, impossible to miss. Emily could easily pass for someone in her mid-thirties if you didn't look too close, but she's still clearly older than me by a significant margin.
"You're not what I expected," Zack says, and there's no judgment in his tone, just honest surprise.
Emily's eyes shift to Zack, her expression cooling by several degrees. "And who are you?"
The question comes out polite enough, but there's something underneath it that makes the temperature in the store drop. Her fingers tighten around mine, and I feel her body language shift, becoming more rigid against my side.
Zack straightens up, that easy confidence faltering just slightly under her gaze. "Zack. I'm Sienna's boyfriend." He gestures vaguely toward Sienna, who's still staring at Emily like she's trying to solve a puzzle. "I went to high school with Danny, too."
"How nice," Emily says, and the words sound like they're coated in sugar and poison in equal measure. "It's always wonderful when Danny reconnects with old friends."
The way she emphasizes 'friends' makes my stomach clench. I squeeze her hand, trying to ground her, to remind her that I'm right here and these people mean nothing to me.
Sienna finally seems to find her voice again. "You two are really married?" The question comes out before she can stop it, and I watch her face flush as she realizes how it sounds. "I mean, sorry, that came out wrong. I just... you seem really different."
I feel Emily's entire body go rigid beside me. Her fingers turn to ice in my grip.
"What do you mean by that?" Emily asks, her voice dropping to something dangerous.
Sienna's eyes widen, realizing she's stepped on a landmine. "I just mean... like, you're really put together. Sophisticated. And Daniel is..." She trails off, clearly scrambling. "You just seem way out of his league."
The words hang in the air like a grenade with the pin pulled.
Emily's smile doesn't waver, but I feel the tremor that runs through her body where she's pressed against me. The pleasant mask she's wearing cracks just slightly at the edges, something cold and furious bleeding through before she wrestles it back under control.
"Please don't poison my husband's mind with your own insecurities," Emily says, and her voice comes out smooth as silk despite the way her nails are digging into my palm. "I really don't appreciate you projecting whatever issues you have onto our relationship."
Sienna's mouth opens, then closes. Her cheeks flush deeper.
"Danny is perfect exactly as he is," Emily continues, and there's steel wrapped in honey in every word. "And I'd prefer if some convenience store girl didn't get in his head and make him feel like he's somehow unworthy of me."
The words land like slaps. I watch Sienna's face cycle through shock, embarrassment, and then anger in rapid succession. Zack shifts uncomfortably beside her, his eyes darting between the three of us like he's watching a car accident in slow motion.
"I didn't mean it like that," Sienna says, but her voice lacks conviction.
"I'm sure you didn't…"
The glass door explodes inward with enough force to make the bell chime violently. A figure in a bright purple suit bursts through, mirrored sunglasses catching the fluorescent lights, golden grill flashing as his mouth opens wide.
"YOUNG BLOOD!"
Before I can even process what's happening, Swanks is across the store, his arms crushing me against his chest with enough force to knock the air from my lungs. Emily stumbles backward, her hand ripping from mine as Swanks lifts me slightly off the ground.
"Your alive!" His voice cracks with genuine emotion, and I feel his whole body trembling against me. "The Swankster thought you were dead, baby boy. Dead!"
"I can't breathe," I wheeze, but he's not letting go. His grip tightens, and there's something desperate in it, like he's afraid I'll disappear if he loosens his hold even slightly.
"My calls weren't going through," he says, and I can hear tears in his voice despite the theatrical delivery. "My texts weren't going through. They told The Swanks your back got injured, and that worried the Swanks greatly."
He pulls back just enough to grip my shoulders, his hands shaking as they frame my face. Behind the mirrored sunglasses, I can see wetness gathering at the corners of his eyes. His bottom lip trembles beneath that golden grill.
"Get the fuck off my husband." Emily's voice cuts through the moment like a blade, sharp and dangerous. Swanks freezes, his hands still gripping my shoulders, his whole body going rigid.
"Emily," I say quickly, gently extracting myself from Swanks' grip. "This is Swanks. He's my friend."
Emily's eyes narrow, studying him with an intensity that makes even Swanks take a step back. The purple suit, the mirrored sunglasses, the golden grill. I watch her take in every detail, her expression unreadable.
Then something shifts in her face. Recognition dawns slowly, like sunrise breaking through storm clouds.
"You're the one friend my husband has," she says, and it's not a question.
Swanks straightens up, adjusting his purple jacket with a flourish that sends his gold chains rattling. "Silver goddess," he says, his voice dropping to something almost reverent. "The Swanks has met you many times in this very establishment. You've graced these humble aisles with your presence on numerous occasions."
Emily's brow furrows, confusion replacing the recognition. "I... don't remember you."
A smile spreads across Swanks' face, warm beneath the grill. "The Swanks understands completely. The silver goddess was too busy eyeing her betrothed."
Her eyes flick to me, and suddenly she's smiling, that genuine warmth breaking through the cold mask she'd been wearing since Sienna's comment. "That's true," she admits, and there's something almost shy in the way she says it. "I had tunnel vision for this one."
I feel my face heat up as she reaches for my hand again, interlacing our fingers. The possessiveness from before has softened into something more tender, more real.
Swanks claps his hands together, the sound echoing through the store. "The Swankster knew it! The Swanks can always spot true love when he sees it." He gestures dramatically between us. "Young blood here deserves nothing but the finest, and the silver goddess? She's platinum, baby. Absolute platinum."
Sienna and Zack are still standing by the counter, watching this entire scene unfold like it's a reality TV show. Sienna's expression has shifted from angry to completely bewildered.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, frowning at Swanks. "Wait, I thought I gave you my new number?"
Swanks waves a hand dismissively, his gold rings catching the fluorescent light. "You probably did, young blood, you probably did. But the Swanks has been back to using his old Razr." He pulls out a hot pink flip phone from his jacket pocket, holding it up like a trophy. "This beauty right here. So maybe your digits got lost in the shuffle."
I can't help but laugh, the tension from Emily's confrontation with Sienna bleeding away as I pull up my contacts. "Here, let me give it to you again."
Swanks flips open the Razr with practiced ease, his fingers moving over the tiny buttons with surprising dexterity. I read off my number slowly, watching him punch it in letter by letter. When he's done, he snaps the phone closed with a flourish.
"Praise the moon you're alive, young blood," he says, and his voice cracks again with emotion. "The Swankster was genuinely concerned. Thought something terrible had happened to his protégé."
Something warm spreads through my chest. "Swanks, you don't have to worry about me like this."
He shakes his head, reaching up to adjust his mirrored sunglasses. "Life is too short to not worry about your friends, Danny boy. James T. learned that lesson the hard way." His voice drops, losing some of its theatrical quality. "When people disappear from The Swankster's life without warning, bad things have usually happened. Real bad things."
The weight behind his words settles over me. I squeeze Emily's hand, feeling her shift closer to my side.
"I'm sorry," I say, and I mean it. "I should have made sure you had my number."
"Water under the bridge." Swanks' smile returns, bright and genuine beneath the grill. "The important thing is The Swankle's whitest friend is alive, married to a silver goddess, and working this fine establishment on this beautiful night."
Emily's expression shifts, something cold flickering behind her eyes as she studies Swanks. Her fingers tighten around mine, and I feel her body language change, becoming more rigid.
"You're not gay, are you?" she asks suddenly, her voice sharp.
"Emily!"
Her gaze snaps to me, but there's no embarrassment in her expression. "No, it's not a gay issue," she says quickly, her tone matter-of-fact. "I just don't want him to try and fuck you."
The words hang in the air like a bomb nobody expected. I hear Sienna inhale sharply from the counter. Zack seems like he's trying his hardest not to laugh.
Swanks throws his head back and laughs, the sound rich and genuine, his golden grill flashing under the fluorescent lights. "The Swanks would never cheat on his two lovely wives!" He presses a hand dramatically to his chest, his rings catching the light. "Jimmothy Theodore Swankulous is a man of honor, silver goddess. A man of principle!"
My brain short-circuits. "You have two wives?"
The laughter dies immediately. Swanks' shoulders sag beneath the purple suit, and he lets out a long, heavy sigh that seems to deflate his entire theatrical persona. For a moment, he looks genuinely exhausted.
"Life comes at you hard, young blood," he says quietly, and there's something raw in his voice I've never heard before. "Real hard."
"What the fuck does that even mean?"