Fish Fridays {Tristan}

[aaron]

The moment Aaron walked into the diner, three things registered in his head. The first was the sound of general chatter that had built up to a deafening roar. The second was the sight of the diner. The decor was homey and slightly tacky; however, no one was paying very much attention. In fact, the broad diversity of the diner's customers more than made up for the uninspired decoration.

The third thing Star noticed was the pungent, nauseating smell of fish.

Star hates fish.

The giant chalk menu above the main serving area displayed everything from fish sandwiched to fish and chips. Salmon steaks and rainbow trout. Anchovy pizza, fish sticks, fish lasagna. Staar sighed and walked over to a table

"What will it be?" A man with a notepad was soon at the table, ready to take his order. He wore sunglasses, which were completely unnecessary indoors, and a bright name tag that cheerfully yelled "Hi! My name is COREY"

"Hey..." Aaron replied. "Uh.. does anything... not have fis-"

"We have salads." The answer was automatic sounding. "But no, we do not have Ceaser Salads, unless you want fish on them. No, we cannot pick out the fish, and yes I have heard this all before." The entire dialogue (more like a monologue) was presented in a dull, uninterested voice.

"Oh.. Okay then. A Garden Salad please, no dressing."

Corey didn't even nod as he sped away to the kitchens. Aaron looked after him for a few minutes, then turned to look at the window.

It was then that he realised with horror that the table wasn't empty.

[Tristan Marcus Dell]

In Aaron’s defense, it would have been hard to notice that the table he had chosen had already been occupied. Tristan was sprawled across two of the chairs on the opposite side of the table laying flat on his back, knees hanging over the side of one of the chairs, feet flat on the floor. Tristan Dell was a very kind, caring individual, but on that particular afternoon he absolutely hated his friends.

Come onnnnn Tristan. You haaaaave to go out, they urged him. Stop being such a girl! I don’t care where you have to be in the morning, you’re coming out with us whether you like it or not!

And so after a night of this and that and trouble that he only allowed himself to get into when he was with the most wonderful people in the world, Tristan was looking after the Why Not Diner while his mother took the day off to spend time with his nephew and future sister-in-law. And he was absolutely, uncharacteristically hung over.

“Don’t listen to him,” he muttered to Aaron, still hidden by the table. “We have whatever you want.” Slowly, but still too quickly for his recovering body, Tristan sat up, revealing himself to the kid who decided to interrupt his almost-slumber. He ran a hand through his messy hair and cringed from the noise of the diner’s chatter. It was certainly not helping his headache, and he decided that he needed to find some better friends.

“He’s just mad because he got fired this morning. He’s lucky we let him stay the rest of the day,” Tristan explained.

[aaron]

Aaron jumped. Was the booth.. talking to him? Nothing should really surprise him by now, but really, why animate a restaurant booth? What a waste of magic. Or perhaps it was a student from the Academy, who was invisible at the moment. Or maybe he had finally gone raving mad, the events or the last few months catching up with him.

Of course, there also could just be someone lying down, hidden by the table. Aaron blushed, half because he had woken this person up (why else would he be lying down) and half because he had become so paranoid that a perfectly logical solution had been the last he came to.

"Do... you, er, own the place?" Aaron wondered if he was the horrible person responsible for Fish Friday. "Are you... alright?" Tristan was speaking quietly, and he looked like he was in pain.

Aaron looked around for another table to move to, and leave Tristan in peace, but apparently the people of Seattle enjoyed their fish. An empty table was no where to be found.