Page 29 of Gratification in Gluttony (Passing Through Cafe #2)

Chapter twenty-nine

Open Mic Night

The beginning of October marked the first open mic night at The Passing Through Cafe. Toni and Jude had practiced nearly every day for the past few weeks, and while Jude had reassured Toni that he was ready, his stomach still roiled with nerves as they set up the keyboard on the makeshift stage he, Quin, and Krul had constructed.

With several weeks to advertise, the word had spread, and the cafe was busier than Toni had ever seen for a Saturday night. Gem had jumped behind the counter to run the espresso machine while the Sypent—Toni still couldn’t remember their name—and a young Cervyn manned the register and bakery case.

Quin had reserved two of the largest tables for their crew and had pushed them together as much as was possible with their circular shapes. After Toni finished setting up the keyboard, he led Jude to where Oliver and Liel were already settled, the Gymnot whispering something in Oliver’s ear that was making him blush.

Tad sat on the edge of one table, legs dangling as she regaled a tale that Toni hoped was fictional—something about her fisting a man as he begged her not to stop—as Zef listened intently. They looked both curious and disturbed, but they didn’t interrupt, even when Tad started pantomiming violently.

Glyma was flitting around, talking with patrons as Quin followed her, significantly less enthused to be socializing. Rusty sat a few chairs away from Jude, shuffling a deck of cards, a pair of big headphones on his ears. Toni could hear the music—something punk-rock-ish in a language he had never heard before.

When Bob skittered under the table between Oliver’s feet, the human shrieked and nearly crawled into Liel’s lap to get away from the weird… bug? Honestly, Toni still didn’t know what Bob was, but he wasn’t overly worried. Weird creatures appeared in the Pentagram all the time, having slunk in from the forest or the dark sea or the desert.

At the appointed time, Glyma took to the stage and tapped the microphone with two fingers. “Hello,” she greeted the cafe in English instead of Hellia, which Toni knew was mostly for Oliver and Jude’s benefit, “and welcome to our very first open mic night. We here at the cafe are so excited to share our talents with you, and we can’t wait to experience yours. We strongly encourage all of you to participate in whatever way you wish, whether that’s singing a song or reading a poem. We’re even going to see some close-up magic.”

Rusty, who’d lowered his headphones when Glyma had started talking, slunk lower in his seat, like he was trying to disappear.

“But first,” Glyma said, gesturing to Zef, “I’m going to welcome Zef to the stage. You may recognize them from their act in Lust with The Madame. They kindly agreed to sing a song to start us out. Let’s give them a hand!”

As the crowd clapped, Zef stood and gracefully meandered to the stage. They smiled at Glyma as she stepped down to allow them to take the mic.

“Good evening,” Zef said. “I will sing a traditional Mantodea hymn for you. Enjoy.”

Zef sang a capella, their voice high and clear, and the crowd was mesmerized. When they finished and everyone clapped, Willow shyly took their place, opening a notebook and reading a poem in Hellia. Liel translated, and Jude leaned over Toni’s lap so he could hear.

After Willow finished, Toni and Jude gave it a minute to see if anyone from the audience would volunteer, but when no one moved, Jude took Toni’s hand and led him to the stage.

“Hello,” Toni said into the smaller microphone attached to the keyboard’s stand. “We’re going to play a song.”

“Whoo!” Gem whooped from behind the counter. “We love you!”

Toni snorted. “Uh, thanks, Gem. So, on lead guitar and vocals is the hottest human to ever grace this cafe with his presence—

“Hey,” Oliver whined.

—The one, the only, Jude,” Toni said with a lecherous grin at Jude. “And I’m Toni,” he added as an afterthought.

The crowd clapped and cheered, though it quickly morphed into whistles and cat-calls directed at Jude, and Toni scowled.

“Hey, keep it in your pants,” he bellowed into the mic, making it squeal. “He’s taken, okay?”

Laughter filtered through the audience, and Jude leaned into his mic and said, “We’re gonna play a cover of a human band most of you probably have never heard of. Enjoy.”

As the audience quieted, Jude looked to Toni, waiting for him to start. Toni’s bravado started to crack, the nerves shining through in the way his fingers shook as they hovered over the keys. But when he met Jude’s encouraging gaze, the fear faded to the back of his mind. He blew out the breath he’d been holding, then he started to play.

It wasn’t perfect. Toni tripped over the notes sometimes, and Jude mixed up a few lyrics—though Toni was the only one to notice. But Jude’s voice was strong and clear, his fingers confident on his guitar, and Toni’s harmonies were fucking tight. And when the last piano note faded, the audience erupted in cheers.

“I give you, Jude, the best human in the world,” Toni said, and Jude blushed.

“And Toni Maryno on keys,” Jude said, waving his hand at Toni.

“Thank you, thank you.” He made a show of bowing deeply. “Thank you very much. I’ll be here all week.” Another round of laughter rippled through the crowd, and Toni frowned. “Why you laughing? I am gonna be here all week. I work here.”

Before Toni could leave the makeshift stage, Jude grabbed him by the back of the neck and hauled him down into a firm, but chaste kiss. Kissing Jude back exuberantly, Toni circled one arm around his human, careful not to knock his guitar loose, and fist-pumped with the other. And the crowd went wild.

“Get a room,” Oliver shouted, and the middle finger of Toni’s raised fist flew up.

“Good job, pretty boy,” Jude whispered against Toni’s lips, like a secret just for him.

“You too, bitesize.”

“Are you about done?” Rusty grumbled from behind Toni. “I want to get this over with as quickly as possible.”

With a glare at the petulant Pyclon, Toni moved his keyboard to the back of the stage and helped Jude store his guitar, before they stepped down. Like he was on his way to the gallows, Rusty shuffled onto the stage, tail flicking anxiously as his ears twitched.

“Uh, hi,” Rusty said into the mic, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I’m gonna do a card trick. I learned it from a stripper when I was twelve.”

“Oh, that’s so sad,” Jude said.

“I hope she gave you a discount,” Toni barked as he settled into the chair beside Oliver.

Quicker than Toni expected, Rusty slapped back with, “You should ask your mom yourself; I don’t kiss and tell.”

The crowd roared, and Toni growled. The little prick’s mouth twitched in amusement, but he covered his smile with a cough.

“Anyway, I guess I need a volunteer or whatever,” Rusty said when the audience quieted.

“Oh, me!” Gem shrieked from behind the counter, limbs flailing as he climbed over it, nearly face-planting on the floor in his haste. “Me, me, me! Ah, fuck, my ankle. Rus, me! Choose me. Put your fucking hand down, Brenda. I’m doing it.”

Since Rusty had no actual choice in the matter, he simply stepped to the side as Gem clambered onto the stage, vibrating with excitement as he took the mic from its stand.

“I’ll be your volunteer,” Gem said breathlessly into it, oil-spill eyes terrifyingly large.

“Uh, okay,” Rusty said, gulping audibly as Gem used his upper hand to hold the mic between them so it could pick up Rusty’s words. “So, these are the cards.” He held up the deck for the crowd to see, before he fanned them out. “You need to choose one.”

“You have to show them that it’s not a trick deck,” Gem said, gesturing toward the audience. “Come on, where’s the showmanship?”

Rusty blinked. “It’s not a trick deck.”

“You’re the magician; of course, you’re gonna say that,” Gem said, stealing the deck out of Rusty’s grasp with his middle hands and shuffling them so the crowd could see. “See? Not a trick deck!” He handed them back to Rusty with a whispered, “Okay, you go. You’re doing great.”

“Do you wanna do this trick?” Rusty bit out, and Gem rolled half his eyes.

“Oh my gods, I’m just giving your show some pizazz! Don’t get pissy.” Gem pouted as Rusty huffed and spread out the cards, facedown.

“Pick one.”

Gem did, dramatically pressing it to his chest so Rusty couldn’t see it.

“Show it to the audience,” Rusty instructed, and Gem did so with a flourish, ensuring, once again, that Rusty couldn’t peek at it. It was a purple three of keys. Once Gem had thoroughly shown off his card, he faced Rusty and waited.

Fanning the cards out again, Rusty said, “Put it back in.”

Gem slid the purple three into the pile, and Rusty immediately pushed the cards together. “Okay,” he said, stepping back to add some space between himself and Gem.

His tail swiped to the side, accidentally knocking over a bottle of water someone had must have forgotten on the edge of the stage. “Oh shit,” he said, and Gem lunged forward to catch it before it rolled off the stage.

“I got it,” Gem said, righting the bottle before he stood and patted Rusty’s shoulder. “No spills. Keep going!”

“Right.” Rusty cleared his throat again, and shuffled the deck, then held it out to Gem. “Cut the deck.”

Again, Gem obeyed with much fanfare and gusto, even adding several jazz hands when he was done. Rusty’s mouth twitched, like he was fighting a smile as he did another complicated shuffle before fitting the cards into a neat pile.

Before he could do anything, Gem blurted, “Can I say the magic word?”

“There isn’t a magic word,” Rusty said dryly, and Gem scrunched up his face.

“There’s always a magic word. You know, you’re not very good at this.”

Quiet laughter filtered through the audience, and Rusty’s left eye twitched. “Fine, you can say the magic word.”

With a wriggle of excitement, Gem tapped the top of the deck and shouted, “Alakazam!”

Rusty paused for half a second. “You done?”

“Yes,” Gem said with a bright smile.

Shaking his head with a huff, Rusty pulled the top card from the deck and showed it off to Gem and the crowd. “Is this your card?”

It was a green eight of shells.

Gem’s expression crumpled. “Uh, no, actually,” he said softly, wincing as Rusty’s tail stiffened.

“It’s not?” Rusty asked, and Gem bit his bottom lip and shook his head. “This one?” Rusty pulled the next one off the top of the deck—a red four of cups—and Gem shook his head again. “Shit.”

Now, Toni didn’t like the Pyclon, but even he felt bad as Rusty deflated.

“Was it me?” Gem asked, covering the mic poorly with one hand. “Was it the magic word? Did I fuck it up?”

“No,” Rusty said glumly. “I must have messed up.”

“Oh,” Gem looked absolutely crestfallen as several of his hands reached toward Rusty, as if to comfort him. But he stopped himself short of touching the Pyclon, his hands dropping to his sides as he said, “Do you want me to go sit down?”

Rusty nodded, still glaring at his feet, and Gem fitted the mic back into the holder, cheeks darker than normal, clearly embarrassed on both their behalfs. But before he could step off the stage, Rusty stopped him.

“Actually, before you go, could you check your back pocket?”

For a moment, Gem frowned in confusion, but then his jaw dropped. “No!” he breathed as he patted several hands over his ass, then pulled out a card from his back pocket. “Oh my gods, it’s my card!”

With an ear-splitting shriek, Gem waved the purple three of keys exuberantly. The crowd cheered, and even Toni laughed as Rusty smirked, rubbing a hand through the fur on the back of his head as Gem bounced around, giggling excitedly.

“Rus, that was so smooth! I didn’t even feel it, and these shorts are hella tight,” Gem said, knocking Rusty in the shoulder. The Pyclon’s smirk widened into a small grin.

“It’s called sleight of hand for a reason,” he said gruffly, giving the crowd a tiny bow at Gem’s insistence. Then he waved a blase hand at Gem. “Give it up for my volunteer.”

“Thank you,” Gem gushed as he curtsied over and over. “I know. I was amazing! Thank you so much.”

As a patron, carrying an acoustic guitar, took their place on the stage, Gem shoved Rusty in the shoulder again, sending the Pyclon staggering several steps. “That was impressive.”

“Thanks. So was your”—he huffed—“pizazz?”

“I knew you liked my pizazz,” Gem preened, and Rusty rolled his eyes.

When they made it back to their seats, Glyma and Willow converged on Rusty, praising the trick, and Toni swore the Pyclon was blushing under his fur as he ducked his head and smiled uncomfortably.

“Dude, that was good,” Oliver said, reaching out to pat Rusty’s arm. “You meant to knock over the bottle, didn’t you?”

“Don’t answer that!” Gem said before Rusty could confirm—or deny—the claim. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“Everyone knows he knocked over the bottle on purpose, so he could slip the card into your pocket,” Toni said dismissively. “It’s not that complicated of a trick.”

“But you didn’t see him do it, did you?” Jude challenged, and Toni scowled down at him. “That’s what makes it a good trick.”

“Not to mention, Rusty just touched my ass in front of a room full of people.” Flipping his hair like a model in a commercial, Gem fluttered his lashes at a Rusty. “That, in and of itself, makes this night memorable.”

“Oh, blech!” Toni gagged obnoxiously as everyone laughed.

Rusty’s face had twisted into one of deep regret and disgust. “I did not touch your ass. I just slipped the card into your pocket while everyone was distracted.”

Gem hummed. “Mmm, still counts.”

With another exasperated huff, Rusty wordlessly held out his hand, and Gem froze. His eyes jumped from Rusty’s hand to his face, then back again, and Toni swore the crests of his gray cheeks darkened again as he slowly, hesitantly placed his upper hand in Rusty’s, curling his fingers around Rusty’s claws.

As one, everyone at their table cocked their heads in bewildered shock as Rusty’s tail went ramrod straight, his eyes widening comically. “What are you doing?” he demanded in a husky growl.

“What are you doing?” Gem echoed.

“I want my card back?” Rusty said, and Gem’s face definitely darkened in an embarrassed blush as he released Rusty’s hand like it had burned him.

“I knew that,” he blurted. “I was just joking.”

“What?” Rusty said.

“What?” Gem copied him.

“What was the joke?” Rusty asked.

“Your mom,” Gem mumbled.

“My mom’s dead,” Rusty deadpanned, and Gem made a choked noise, covering his mouth with his two upper hands.

“Oh, that’s right. I knew that. I’m so sorry. That was super not cool.” Gem hugged himself with several arms, and Rusty snuffled a tiny laugh.

“It’s fine, Gem. It was a long time ago, and I’ve made my peace with it.”

“Well, I didn’t know,” Willow said tearfully. “Rusty, I’m so sorry.”

Rusty’s tail lowered to curl around his leg as he sat down. “Oh, no, Wil, it’s okay. Like, for real. I was fifteen when it happened.”

Tears flooded the Dryad’s eyes. “You were just a kit!”

“Yeah, but I was okay. Like, I was only homeless for a little while,” Rusty said, as if it was somehow a reassurance. “The other kid who shared my cardboard box house was homeless at twelve. So, like, I had it super easy, you know?”

With a wail, Willow buried her face in her hands and sobbed as Krul fretted over her, petting her ivy hair.

Patting Rusty’s shoulder, Gem sat down beside him. “You should stop trying to make her feel better. It’s not working.”

“That got dark very fast,” Toni said.

“Psh, it’s just now getting interesting,” Tad said as she walked across the tabletop and plopped down right in front of Rusty, crossing her legs beneath her. Her bulbous eyes locked on his, and Rusty leaned back instinctively. “Tell me everything bad that’s ever happened to you.”

“No,” Rusty said, clutching his tail to his chest.

Tad grinned. “I’ll wear you down eventually.”