Mystic Resonance

The Pig Wants to Eat the Turtle

I left Merrill with his ex, Courtney. Seeing her jump to my friend, I got angry. I didn't find anything unnerving or crazy. She looked like a normal girl with no heavy drama. She's pretty, and rich (from what I heard), and I'm certain she's popular. And, bonus points, she's a cheerleader! They bring peppiness and spirit to the game and outside.

Above all, she's human. I can't compete with that!

All of Merrill's exes are human. He dated Alex, Lydia, Kendra, Courtney, and many more I haven't met. I'm certain none of the other exes were yokai or human. Hey, I'm his first... well, not for long. Watching Merrill easily talk with his ex in a public place made me uneasy. They looked like a picture-perfect couple. Imagine it as a rom-com sitcom: The Peppy and the Emo. They'll be on the cover of every magazine and internet screen for months. Maybe years. This is the kind of person Merrill should be with. Not a weird, talking, mutant turtle like me.

I left them alone saying I was going to the restroom. I wanted to... then, I noticed a problem: which restroom to use. So, I sat against the wall beside the restrooms hugging myself. I could easily escape but that required me to go through the front and be caught. I wanted to leave; however, I didn't have the strength to leave Merrill behind. I guess there was a small part of me that Merrill's affection for Courtney was nothing more than friendship.

Or so I hope.

I huffed. Tonight is OUR night! I waited, hyped, and prepared myself for this night! I'm gonna go over there and tell that lil' cheerleader to back the fuck off and take a hike! I stood up with conviction. I slapped my cheeks ready to head into the fray. "You got this! Nothing's gonna stop you!" I perked. "Don't stomp over to them. Walk with class. Sashay my way through. Make an entrance. Make that girl, Courtney, wish she never let him go! You got the rizz! Time to use it! Make Merrill whet his appetite!"

"My. What a motivational speech you have." I quickly turned around to see the stuck-up, beaked-nosed host narrowing his eyes. I nervously chuckled as I rubbed the back of my neck. "My night couldn't have gotten any stranger than it already has."

Well then... that piqued my interest. "Other than seeing a couple of punks step into your fancy domain? One of them one-up you in French."

The man's nostrils flared and I saw his nose hairs blowing out of their little caves. This guy needs a trim. "I am not discussing my problems with a teenager with questionable fashion sense", he said with his schnozzle up in the air.

I crossed my arms. "Says the guy who hasn't trimmed his nose hairs." The host was taken aback by my remark. "Just 'cuz I'm different doesn't mean I can't lend an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on. You look like the kind of guy who holds in their tears. Maybe you're one of those closet emotional guys." I know I'm stalling. I could be marching over to the two "happy couples" talking about memories. Ugh. I SO wanted to end their happiness. I mean – COME ON! Who comes over to someone's date and talks while you're being ignored?

"I should turn in my resignation." I blinked back to reality. The man frowned deeply. "I have no respect here. Not once did Mr. Charles let me assist in the kitchen, especially with how shorthanded we are! Mr. Charles called in an old mentor of his to assist the night. I never get to see who this mentor is. All they wore is a large, filthy cloak and metal gloves. This restaurant has fallen ever since Chef Torque resigned."

Interesting. The description piqued my curiosity. Mr. Charles – I'm guessing the manager – asked his mentor to help him on short notice. I think I know who it is, but I need to check to be sure.

"You wanted to work in the kitchen? You don't strike me as a cook", I stated.

"Hmph! I majored in the Culinary Arts! I took pride in my craft", he said, puffing his chest. "I wanted to be a chef. Graduated in top honors. Now I'm reduced to escort guests to their seats. The assistant manager was not in my priorities."