The Time Triangle

Lack of Tea

**No POV**

"Do I get a raise?" Rody asks, and Vincent chuckles, "Pfff- no. Why do you need the money anyways?" Rody was quick to answer, saying, "It's for this really special girl- her name is Manon. Maybe I could get enough money by the end of the week to do something for her."
Vince just shrugs in reply, "You make tips. If you're good at your job, you and Y/n can split them, and you'll probably have enough. Plus, Y/n's getting a raise soon (don't tell him), and I bet he'll lend you some money."

Another pause, another question from Rody: "Do you even like this job?" Vincent crossed his arms, saying, "I've dedicated my life to making the Bristo the way it is now." He didn't clarify, so Rody repeated the question.
Vince answered with a question of his own, "What do you mean by that?" Rody shrugged, "For someone who OWNS a restaurant, I've never seen you COOK." Vince was quick to change the subject with a simple, "What about you? BEFORE you came here?? I doubt you wanted to wait tables for a living."

Rody let out a small, nervous smile, saying, "I went to school for a bit, but it's kinda embarrassing what I went for." Vincent scoffed, "No need to be worried about that, it can't be any more embarrassing than it is now."
Rody groaned and rolled his eyes, "That's exactly what I mean." before leaving to wait more tables. The chef didn't seem to mind, and Y/n, who was watching from behind the door was quick to hurry and wait more tables. Rody was fast, but Y/n was always faster. Any work that Rody wasn't there for, Y/n compensated for.

It was honestly a breeze for him, to sit someone down, have them talk to you (writing down what they say), put in a meal ticket and give it to them. Even with his bad memory, he was able to remember every table's orders, while sometimes, Rody got the plates mixed up (Y/n never knew how he managed to do that).
Speaking of Rody, he was staring at a rat in a corner by the cooks. One of which, was practically shaking in fear. Rody placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, making the male jump. When the cook turned around, he sighed and said, "Oh, it's you." and nothing more. The ginger just simply walked out after that.

The rest of the shift went by, and Rody sighed and said to Y/n, "I want to do the ear thing, but not today. What I really need is some sleep." The other male didn't argue, and when Rody turned to look at him, he realized that Y/n looked just as worn out as he did.
Y/n undid his bun (that had been in for quite a long while, and he realized his hair probably needs to be brushed) and groaned, "This is going to be a long walk." Rody nodded, taking his bike and wishing the other good luck. Y/n froze at the phrase. 

Rody didn't notice though.
He was too busy crawling onto the couch, ignoring his grumbling stomach.
At least, when he woke up, he could say that being packaged was not a fun experience.

Nothing happened besides a small comment from Vincent, who looked at Y/n and Rody and said, "Geez, you two look terrible. Did you get any sleep last night?" Rody replied with, "Nightmare."
Y/n cheerfully replied, "Nope! I didn't even have time to make my morning tea." his eye twitched, and Vince froze, whipping his head towards Y/n. The chef grabbed the waiter by the wrist, and because Rody had nothing to do, he followed.

Vincent looked at one of the cabinets, before taking out a tea bag, filling a cup with water and handed both to Y/n. "You boil, I'll watch." He wasn't watching though; he was reading something. Y/n didn't seem to care. "What's that?" Rody asked.
Before Vince could reply, Y/n did for him, "Probably restaurant reviews- wait! Is this hibiscus (hibiscus tea is slightly sour- it's one of my favorites, but you can pick your own)? Oh Vince, you know that's my favorite! Appréciez-le ("Appreciate it." I used google translate, so tell me if it's wrong in any way)." Vince looked at Y/n for a moment, before a small, smile spread across his face, "I know." then, his face formed a dark expression, "I don't even want to know what happens if you don't have your daily dose of tea. All I know is that it'd be extremely bad for all of us."

"Can we take a break while Y/n drinks his tea?" Rody asks, and Y/n complains, "Slow down, it hasn't even gotten to a boil yet." Vince asked, "What? Did you not bring lunch? Maybe I'll let you finish some of the customer's unfinished meals if you're that hungry."
Y/n gagged in the background, and we turned to him as he commented, "I'd prefer one of Rody's burnt pbjs instead of finishing someone else's meal. Isn't that unsanitary?" Vince didn't even bother starting a threat like he was going to- Y/n had interrupted him, not that he had minded, because the guy had a point.

"What about a favorite food?" Rody asked. Y/n shrugged, "For Vince? Probably something sour, like lemons." The chef's eyes widened, "How'd you know?" Y/n shrugged again, "I didn't. I guess, even if you weren't able to taste it, you'd still be able to feel it. I like them when I lose my sense of taste while sick, though I bet you like them, even when you're not sick. You're a generally sour person."

Vince repeated his previous statement, "How'd you know?" Again, Y/n said, "I didn't." and Vincent sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "This is getting repetitive." Y/n smirked, "THAT, I know." There was a ring at the door, and Y/n left us to serve. Rody asked Vince, "How do you make tea? The water's boiling."
"It is?" the chef asked, before turning over to the kettle. "Oh, it is. I hadn't noticed." He poured the boiling water in the cup, before placing the tea bag inside, bobbing it up and down. Vincent asked himself, "I wonder how he knew." and Rody butted in, asking, "Knew what?" Vince turned to him, still bobbing the tea bag as he replied, "He knew how to serve correctly without my help on his first day, he knew I had no taste- he just KNEW. I know he knows, but he just pretends not to."

Rody nonchalantly points out, "He has a lot of scars. He keeps lying about where he got them from. Most of the time, I was just barely convinced. The way he talked, the way his body language said, 'Trust me.'-- it's just the eyes. Or eye. It's what always gives him away. He gets all cold when he's telling the truth, like something happened in the past he'd rather not talk about, or I was close to discovering something that was better left unsaid." Vince raised an eyebrow, "He does? I never noticed besides the one on his face, and that was only a day or two ago."

Before anything else could be said, Y/n walked in. His hair was sticking up in every which way, and he was slightly curling into himself, wincing every time he walked. He gingerly took the tea from Vince before chugging it.
Vincent was shocked. He was just about to inform his employee that the tea was hot, but that obviously didn't stop him. The scalding hot liquid burned down Y/n's throat, but he didn't even grimace. What was really killing him was his binder. Speeding around the place and forgetting to take it off really did a number on him.

"Can I have a day off? It's just one of those days- I swear this won't happen again."

"Fine, but just this once. You look like Sh*t, even after the cup."

"Feel better, Y/n. I'll try my best to cover for you."

"Thanks, Rody. Feel free to take my pay for today- you deserve it."

Then, Y/n left.