Salmonella

Chapter 10

🫧Ten🫧

My favorite song in my playlist comes on—A Meltem Martino song. I wish Bloom were here and we'd be singing together at the top of our gills.

"Hm hm... I won't be part of your freak show... la la... so put the carnival mask, mask over my face..." I whistle along and mop at the floor. "I'm not the marionette, not the clownfish you know... La la... Little rag doll you discard, displace—" Oh shit.

I don't realize where I'm going and crash into the table face-first. I can hear Zig guffawing from behind the front desk.

"BENTIK!"

"Y-yes?" I scramble off the table, lowering myself to the floor and grabbing the mop. "Yes, Índigo sir?" When did he even get here? I thought he was still outside the shop.

He reaches over and pulls out one of my earbuds. "Let's talk." His tone is cold, expression unreadable. His face is colorless today, eyes bare other than some sharp black eyeliner. No purple, no blue. It's kind of jarring.

I ignore my coworkers' wheezing laughter as I'm escorted to the private room in the back. It's dim inside and the furniture is untouched and rusty. He shuts the door with his back—not fully, just enough so the others can't try to listen in, and gestures for me to take a seat. I move so I'm in front of the small round table facing him, but don't sit.

He sucks in a breath. "You scare off the customers, you waltz in and out whenever you please, you spill paint—"

"That was one time," I protest. The one time it was my turn to spill the paint but Zig failed to distract him long enough and I got caught in the act. Then instead of covering for me, the guys just threw me under the bass and only I got in trouble.

"One time too many." He folds his arms. "You do remember I'm leaving the store with you next week, right?"

"I know."

"For my gig at the—"

"Gig at the Pebblestone Theater," I say over him. "I know."

He leans down and speaks very pointedly and slowly, as though I'm a little child. "I expect nothing to be broken when I get back."

I nod, relieved that he's not mad at least. I'll take infantilizing anytime over that. I poke his arm. "Don't worry, Índigo sir, the only thing broken will be your fin." He cocks an unimpressed brow. "'Cause you're gonna kill that role," I explain, nudging him so he gets the horrible joke.

"...Thanks," he says blankly. Great, I made him mad.

Then he grows earnest. "Bentik." He taps my forehead. "No jokes. Give me your word."

"Yes, rocker that, boss." I salute him. "Nothing will be broken. You can count on me."

He gives me a single nod and takes his leave. This time I don't stifle the urge to roll my eyes.

I glide back to the main room where the others are watching me intently but Asslas is nowhere to be seen. "Uh, hey," I tell the guys, "I'm gonna be in the basement... sorting... paints."

I hear them laugh as soon as I've left the room, clearly thinking Asslas is punishing me again. But really, I just wanna be alone right now. I shut the door behind me and curl up in a corner, checking my phone. Fucking Asslas. Sure, leave whenever you want, but I gotta be stuck here.

"Luckily it won't be that way much longer..." I say aloud, scrolling through my folder of art projects. Not projects for school, but personal projects. Digital art I've made on my own, some that are just drafts; some that I've posted online. My account doesn't get too much attention, but I'm hoping I can get at least some people to commission my art. Take that, Asslas. You have to stay here, but my escape is near. After all, the best revenge is success.

Ding! rings my phone, buzzing in my hand. What? What was that? I check the notification and my eyes widen.

Oh shit, I think wildly. Should I wait until I get home? I bite my lip. My shift doesn't end for a while. Can I really wait? No, it's okay, I'm alone and no one's looking. Okay, I'll just make this fast and be really, really quiet.

I carefully tap the notif and it takes me to another app, opening a site I'm too ashamed for anyone to know I use...

WebbedToon.

I grin deviously down at my favorite webcomic app, opening the series that just updated. I hold the phone up to my face so my gleaming eyes are peeking just over the rim.

We're at the part in the story where the demigirl vampire and demiboy witch have finally found a lull in the middle of the brimming monster war to address their obvious feelings for each other. I cover my mouth, unable to believe it's really happening!

"Yessss, my shipppp," I growl demonically. Finally, my OTP is getting together after 200 whole episodes! I think I represent the entire fandom when I say I have been waiting for this moment forever!

I scroll down the panels with glee when—

Kiss. They KISS! 

"YAHHHHHH!" I kick my fins, squeal-screaming and doing a flip in the air, but I end up falling back and knocking into a shelf of boxes, sending them spilling over me. One of them falls on top of me.

I hear someone pause their singing to poke their head into the room. Through a hole in the box, I can see it's Zig-Zag Zone, 22, recently graduated from Fish, which got them absolutely nowhere. From what I've heard, he and Asslas became friends when he was the set designer for a show Asslas did. Then a year later, when Zig was desperate for work, Asslas pitied them and took them in.

I leap up, ignoring my phone zooming through the water, grab the mop and pretend to clean, the box still lying open on my head.

"Uhh..." Zig plucks the box from my head and I pretend to have just noticed him, grinning very innocently.

"Oh! Zig! Didn't see you there!"

"Everything okay in here?" they ask, cocking a brow at me, and I realize it's because I forgot to call them by last name.

"Yep! All good, Zig—I mean, Zone!" I try to laugh innocently but end up sounding maniacal.

He examines the perimeter of the room skeptically, as though I could be hiding a body in one of the rusty corners. "Why'd you scream?"

"I ..." Quick, think of something realistic. "I thought I saw... a whale."

A whale? Dammit, Ella. You could have said literally anything else.

"Ookay..." Staring at the weirdo that I am, my scarred coworker backs out of the room very, very slowly.