TORPEDO ✓

the cat who blew the whistle

MARTY'S MART IS STOCKED AS usual on vapid Saturday afternoons, like this one; with human and material resources ardently stepping up the charts of sale managers and sweat glands of other employees like a G-5 fueled on semen.

Dorian's sweating non-stop despite the ACs whispering invisible frost across the wide expanse of people and goods. He's been stacking cartons of new goods into their respective shelves that his shoulders are begging him to take a break that has been long overdue since two hours ago, where he wasted it on purging the stale bacon he had for breakfast.

Now he's before one of the many cash registers, his fingers throbbing from slamming the hard keys for straight forty minutes without stopping. He's sure there's a train of smoke oozing from his ears now from his brain hitting yield point.

"Welcome to Marty's," Dorian whispers, almost lifeless if he's being less dramatic about his physical ordeal.

He snatches the cart from the customer in front of him without regarding them up to looking them in the eye. Dorian picks the content one by one, swiping them over the scanner with less care in the world. Maybe too much carelessness because this Darigold milk crate missed the scanner by an inch.

"Hey you missed that": Safe for the customer, who's noble enough to call his attention to it.

That voice.

Dorian perks up. Slowly, his eyes scan them--him from the beltline. Furry Balenciaga vest, arms up to the exposed, sunken neckline.

"Giovanni?"

"Dory!"

"What are you doing here?"

Just then, Dorian's co-worker, this emo girl with a permanent smile that completely ironizes the black and evil radiating from her spiky boots and death leather overalls steps into the scene.

"Dee." She blows a balloon with her bubblegum before popping it in a way it skillfully splatters just direct inside her mouth.

"Yes. Onee-chan?"

"What's onee-chan?" Gio asks immediately.

Rachel ignores Gio. "Boss says I should take over the counter for a while. There are boxes outside for you to stack."

"Ah," Dorian breathes but he doesn't make a face before he trudges away from the counter and from the queue to the backyard of the mart.

The autumn wind smacks his face and rids it of some sweat and he's thankful. But it's mixed with stuffiness, camphor and that old cardboard smell. His joints are aching so he tries to wiggle his discomfort out but ends taking in a whiff of his drenched armpits.

"Ha," he voices, with a smile on his face.

The moment he lifts the cartons, he doesn't realize how exhausted he's been before his arms give out and the package as a whole falls free.

Thanks to Giovanni who Dorian is just acknowledging his existence beside him. The blonde had extended his arms in that split second to cushion the fall.

"Woah," Dorian says, blinking the tiredness out of his eyes. "It's you."

"Yes, it's me." Gio rolls his eyes and scoops more than half of the stacked boxes from the other boy's hands.

"When did you come here?"

"Ugh." Gio deadpans. "I hope you're doing alright though. You look like a mess."

"Thanks," Dorian huffs as the camphor stench grows stronger.

"Well, you're a hot mess, not gonna lie."