Shot in Love and Crime (DNF)

Chapter 74: Spanish

10 (9.5) chapters left.

The countdown begins for King of the Cell
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Dream POV

“Dream, why did you yell at him, you muffin head!?” Bad asked accusingly, making me lower my head slightly in shame as both he and Karl glared at me from the couch opposite the one I was sitting on.
“I was just upset that he’d been telling the cops about us.” I grumbled under my breath. “Plus, I apologised after.”

“Well he apologised too, didn’t he?” He continued, raising an eyebrow.
“He did,” Sapnap stated as he slid onto the couch beside Karl. “Several times.”
“Yeah, I know.” I nodded at him. “It’s just I didn’t know how much he said to the police and thanks to him we had to leave the mansion.”

The three of them had been grilling me for the past hour about how much of an asshole I was for yelling at George. Both Karl and Bad had gone to check on the brunette but he’d just been crying and refused to talk to them. It just fell into a cycle of them yelling at me, going to check on George who was upset, and then coming back to yell at me again because he was upset.

The only fortunate news had come part way through the middle of this confrontation, where Sapnap jumped up to announce that the trap had worked and that a bunch of cops had been killed by the explosives. Although that didn’t get me off the hook cause a minute later I was being yelled at again.

Suddenly Karl got a text, which once again distracted the group as he stood up. “Guys, Quackity messaged. He’s at a restaurant on the ninth floor in a private function room.”
“We’ll finish talking to you later.” Bad said to me as he began following Karl to the door.

All four of us stepped into the hallway and Karl looked over his text again. “So the restaurant is called ‘Restaurante Que Es Español’ and it is on the ninth floor. I’ll see if George wants to join us and meet you downstairs after that.” Sapnap and Bad nodded as they pressed the button to call the elevator.

For the first time since I met up with George at the mall I wasn’t wearing my mask. It was sitting in the safe along with my documents and papers so that nobody knew I was here. Now as I stood in the hallway I was just a blond nobody that nobody would pay any attention to, because nobody knew what I looked like.

When the doors opened it was empty, which made sense seeing as we were on the second floor from the top. The only floor above us was the roof, but since it was almost Winter nobody was up there. We stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to head to the eleventh floor.

It took about a minute to get down to the eleventh floor, only stopping to let a rich elderly couple on the fifteenth floor. Once we stepped off the elevator we looked around at the signs over different shops and restaurants before noticing one beside the eleventh floor entrance to the casino.

All three of us walked inside, and a waiter immediately noticed us before walking over.
“Buenas noches señores.” He greeted us in Spanish, although it was clear that he didn’t know too much of the language aside from basic greetings. “Bienvenido to one of the greatest Spanish restaurants in L’manburg.”

“Ohh… Um… Gracias.” Bad responded, clearly not sure if he should go along with using Spanish words in parts of our sentence with no reason. “We are here to have dinner in one of the private function rooms with our friend.”

“Of course, there is one function room that is being used at the moment. Is that where you’re meeting your amigo?”
“Sí,” Sapnap responded as we were led on a weaving path between the tables to a function room.

It was one of two at the side of the restaurant beside the bathrooms. There was a chalkboard by each of the function rooms which both had a tacky birthday sign that said ‘Feliz Cumpleaños to _____ from everyone here at Restaurante Que Es Español’, but neither had anything written on them.

Quackity was sitting at a round table which had six seats. “Hey guys. How are you?” He smiled as we filed in.”Where’s Karl? I was looking forward to seeing him.” His voice was a low hum as we all sat at the table.
“He’s on his way,” Sapnap reassured. “He’s just getting George.”

“And why isn’t George here?” Quackity continued to question as the waiter put some menus around the table.
“Dream did something dumb and irrational.” Bad stated with a harsh look at me. “That poor muffinhead has been in his room crying all afternoon.”

I felt bad about what I did, and saw the rest of them look over at me without saying anything but didn’t respond with anything. The waiter walked around the table, giving us a smile. “Would any of you like a glass of agua to drink?”
“Get six glasses.” Quackity instructed, waving him off.

Once the waiter nodded and disappeared he sighed. “I hate that fucking waiter.” He grumbled for all of us to hear. “He claims he was born and raised in Spain and moved here last year, yet couldn’t speak a word of Spanish when we hired him. Now he only knows the odd word or phrase which he throws into the middle of a sentence to impress old rich white couples and get tipped better.”

All of us laughed just before the man returned and poured each of us a glass of water. Not even a full minute later Karl and George came into the room, and it was clear that Karl had helped the shorter brunette to put on some make-up to cover his blotchy cheeks from crying. The Brit didn’t make eye contact with me.

“Karl,” Quackity purred. “I saved a spot for you.” Karl thanked him and settled down, with George sitting down beside him. Bad was sitting between me and the brunette as he buried his head in the menu without saying anything. The others at the table gave me a look before eventually Quackity decided to talk about work.

“So, without the mansion how is business going?” The gambler asked. “Can you still run the mafia from here?” I felt somewhat happy for the change of topic and I responded to him.
“All our drugs, weapons, and other things had nothing to do with the mansion. They were our main source of income besides businesses we own a share in.”

George was glancing at me as I continued talking about how the business would probably go now that we were out of our home base. The same waiter that spoke in Spanish once in a while walked into the room. “Are you guys ready to order some bebidas? Or do you all want to move straight onto alimentos.”

Quackity grumbled under his breath before we all began looking down at our menu at the options.
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1282 words

I was thinking. Should I do another Christmas Special like I did last year? Where I did a chapter set on Christmas day of questionable canonicity.

Last year I did a Christmas chapter for Demons, so what story would you like to see me write a Christmas chapter for?
(Preferably written this year so Gods, Heroes/Antiheroes, Manipulation High, or this story, but will also be willing to do one for earlier stories such as Hunger Games)