You Better Bring an Umbrella, Vol. 2

Chapter 3: What'd I Miss?

  I woke up in a panic the next morning, the memories of last time I tried to get Five to sleep flooding in suddenly. He didn't even get the chance to tell me what he was doing here, but given how impatient he was, there was a chance he would just jump somewhere else. Another one of our siblings would be a safe bet, but I still didn't know if the rest of them were in Dallas.

Five being here did give me hope.

Thankfully, when I carefully pushed open the door to the guest room, I found him fast asleep, wrapped up in the thick blankets provided. I found myself smiling as I looked down at him before I shut the door again. He genuinely just looked like a little kid there, and not an old man carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. It provided some much-needed comfort.

For the time being, I decided to just let Five have his rest. If he was still asleep now, he clearly needed it. In the meantime, I got to straightening up a little and preparing myself some breakfast. It'd be good to leave enough for Five, just in case he wanted any. Most of the time, though, he just had coffee for breakfast, and that somehow tied him over. I tried my best not to pass my criticisms, given that he'd been through so much, but I think he often forgot in body, he was still 13.

Right as the pot of coffee was finishing brewing, my phone rang, cutting through the sizzling, popping, and gurgling of breakfast. Completely forgetting the events of last night, I wiped my hands and strode over, picking up the phone without apprehension.

"Hello?" For a moment, there was silence on the other end, before a familiar voice started speaking.

"Mina? This is Robert Codere."

I froze. Robert was the husband of the woman who opened and ran the dance studio. They handled a lot of the business aspects of the place together, but we still saw him pretty frequently.

And he never made calls over the weekend.

"How can I help you, Robert?" My voice shook a little, but I tried not to let that bother me.

"Look, there's no easy way to say this, so I'll..." He cut himself off, as though he didn't feel he owed me an explanation. "We received some calls to the house last night from dancers of yours, claiming they'd seen you at one of those establishments for—" Once again, he didn't finish his sentence. "I'm sure you know."

"Yes, sir," I growled, my fear slowly boiling into rage.

"We just think there may be several people who wouldn't be comfortable working with someone... like you. Not to mention we have the studio's reputation to think about." I supposed he wanted me to ask what he was saying, but I refused to give him that. Not after the way he said 'like you'. "We're going to let you go. Please turn in your keys to the studio by the end of next week."

With that, the other line clicked, leaving me with an unceremonious and unjust firing. Part of me had expected this after last night, but that didn't make it any more infuriating. The assurance that things were more fair where we came from did absolutely nothing for me, because this was still happening, even back  in 2019... if there was even a 2019 to go back to. How someone could possibly consider treating someone different just because of their identity would never make sense to me.

I made an attempt to collect myself and shake things off, when I heard creaking on the stairs. My eyes followed Five as he made his way down the stairs, still looking slightly exhausted. He only looked to me for a moment before his brow furrowed.