#FierroChase

Into Themselves We Fell

The only reason Alex has managed to survive so long in the service industry is obvious: she has a dark swirling void in place of where most people have souls.

"There," she says, as she spits into a steaming plate of kebabs. "Call me a slur again, asshole." That done, she serves the food up to the spiky-haired hipster who called her a fag under his breath.

"Enjoy your meal, sir," she says, beaming. I hope you choke, you sorry shitstick of a man.

A customer waves her over. They have shaggy blonde hair and a lazy smile, dressed up in an oversized hoodie and too-long jeans. Alex gives them an appreciative once-over as she makes her way over.

"Hi," she chirps, in her best Hello! I Love Selling My Soul To Afford College voice. "I'm Alex, and I'll be your server today." She checks his shirt, then sees that he's not wearing the usual pronoun sticker. "May I know your preferred pronouns and terms of address?"

"Oh," they blink, then smile as if pleasantly surprised. "He/him, please."

Alex waits. When he doesn't say anything else, she prompts, "Would you like me to call you sir?"

"Oh, uh," he scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed, "Um, 'Magnus' is fine actually."

On first-name basis with a customer already, she thinks wryly. Amir would be proud. "Sure. Are you ready to order, Magnus?"

It sounds strange on her lips, after being used to so many hours debasing herself for her customers.

Magnus doesn't hesitate. "The falafel, and some coke, please."

She makes a note of his order, then moves to take his menu. Her hand bumps into his as he passes it over, electricity sparking between them.

"Sorry," Magnus says, withdrawing his hand.

Alex stares blankly, then recollects her composure enough to ask, "Will that be all?"

"Yeah, for now." He smiles at her and oh, that is a cute smile. "Thanks."

She manages to make it back to the kitchen without passing out from sheer shock. Maybe her standards have lowered, but an attractive, yet still polite customer who has the words "thank you" and "sorry" in his vocabulary? Has she lucked out and should she expect Trump in their restaurant tomorrow?

"One falafel and one coke," she says, as she passes the order slip to Sam. "And a lottery ticket, while you're at it."

Sam rolls her eyes as she pins the order slip up on the board. "Why, what happened?"

"A customer who a) did not react badly to being asked his pronouns, b) seems to have a shred of human decency and c) manners," Alex says. So maybe she's being a little dramatic, but they work in the service industry.

Sam peeks over the counter at Magnus, who's leaning against the glass window and bobbing along to the ambient music. "And attractive, too," she notes.

"He looks okay," Alex says.

Sam smirks. "It's okay to admit you're attracted, Alex."

"What, I am not - "

"Amir," Sam says. "Alex's finally found someone who lives up to her impossible standards."

Amir appears at the window between the kitchen and the counter. "That's impossible," he jokes.

"I don't have impossible standards," Alex protests. "Mallory met them just fine."

"Mallory dumped you five months ago," Sam says helpfully.

"It was an amicable breakup," Alex says. "Mostly."