Melting the Devil

Who?

A/N: Update

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Friday arrives before Tin is ready, but he makes a valiant effort not to treat it like any other day. Anyway, it technically isn't even Cantaloupe's last day yet, since he's basically the man in charge of Sunday's big opening event. It is definitely his last day at the office, though, and his last day coming over to Tin's house in the morning and picking out his clothes—the last day an assistant will ever do so for Tin, after he realized how absurd and also intimate that particular routine was. He could never do any of this stuff with anyone other than Cantaloupe without it being weird.

For his part, Cantaloupe seems entirely centered that morning, greeting Tin with his cheery smile, a cup of coffee that has Cantaloupe's name scribbled on it, and a kiss that sets off sparks in Tin's scalp. He breezes through the day's activities when Tin asks: two meetings in the morning, then lunch with Cantaloupe (Cantaloupe's choice, Tin still has no idea where), and then another string of meetings in the afternoon. Tin's dismayed that he's apparently booked today of all days, but he nods dutifully anyway.

"Oh!" Cantaloupe says, looking up from the calendar on his phone, "I meant to ask you, would it be okay if I went over to Perault this afternoon to finalize a few things for Sunday? I'll be back before 5, of course, but —I mean, Kreepolrerk requested to meet."

Tin narrows his eyes slightly at Cantaloupe's slip (But whi? Who is who?), which is good, because it distracts him from the way his stomach drops at the idea that he'll get even less of Cantaloupe today. He's tempted to ask after the opening, especially since Cantaloupe's been cagey about any and all details about it, but he doesn't think he's going to get any substantial answers. Instead, he says, "Sure, that should be fine," resigning himself to a full day of meetings.

The first one of the day is the Huddle, which is what Tin decided to call his weekly round-up with his communications team. They're all keyed-up today, bouncing off the walls when Tin and Cantaloupe enter the conference room, but they settle down quickly, taking their seats and opening their laptops. Rei promptly starts her presentation, outlining the agenda, but Tin finds it distracting, how jittery everyone seems to be—Mai is twirling a pen rapidly between his fingers, Yacht's knee bounces incessantly, occasionally bumping the table, Prem fiddles with a paperclip from his clipboard, and even Jom and Loeweseem to exchanging looks at an alarming rate.

They miraculously make it through all the presentations in record time, but just as Tin wraps up the meeting, all the lights in the conference room switch off. He stands to get a look out of the window, wondering if the rest of the office experienced a power outage as well. "What—"

He never gets the rest of his question out, because the lights come back on at about the same time music starts blasting out of the system speakers—some techno boy band song Tin doesn't recognize that starts off with "Bye, bye, bye"?—and suddenly everyone is holding balloons and wearing Frozen party hats. To complete the surprise, Saint comes in carrying a cake in an unnaturally bright shade of blue with a messaged piped in white frosting. Everyone gathers around him as he presents it to Cantaloupe, kneeling dramatically, and, upon closer inspection, the dedication reads: WE HOPE YOU FAIL, YOU'RE DEAD TO US NOW.  

"Happy last day!" they all shout in unison, and even though Tin was never the target of this surprise, he feels warm from the gesture anyway.

Cantaloupe takes one look at the cake and starts laughing so hard, tears start forming in his eyes. (Or... Could he be actually crying?) "What the heck—I can't believe y'all! I was going to wait until the end of the day but—oh my god, just give me one second—"

Tin shares a confused frown with the rest of them as Cantaloupe flies out of the room, but he comes back almost instantly, carrying a cake box of his own. He opens the lid to reveal a much more appetizing (and better decorated) chocolate cake that reads, in elegant script: SORRY FOR YOUR LOSS (IT'S ME, I'M LEAVING!)