Oh My God, They Were Roommates

[ 18 ] Carry On My Wayward Son

It was another (somewhat) early morning at the coffee shop where the spritely blonde manager returned the flash drive to Gon from over the counter. It had spent the night there, in her office where her name was marked on a plaque as "Bisky", and was now thoroughly reviewed.

"I don't see why not," she said, propping her hands on her hips.

Gon stared at her, speechless. It took a moment for him to realize that he needed to come up with a response— any response—to ensure her that he was still onboard.

"O-Oh, really?"

Fuck .

Bisky rose an eyebrow at him. "You don't seem all that excited."

Gon shook his head, waving his hands about wildly. "I-I am! Trust me, I really am. My brain just sort of imploded there. I'm—I'm glad you liked my work."

One of Bisky's coworkers asked for her assistance with some packages that were dropped off at the back door. Gon stepped back from the counter as Bisky said, "Take a seat somewhere—I'll be over in a bit to discuss scheduling."

The café itself was small and narrow, and seating was limited, but outside there were a few tables posted out on the sidewalk. He hesitated at the door, though, and glanced back at where Bisky rolled her sleeves up and heaved three boxes of syrup into the air like it was nothing. Gon's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Truth be told, he didn't know a single girl her size with guns like that , holy shit .

Gon recovered himself long enough to claim a seat out at one of the sidewalk tables. He studied the flashdrive he and Zushi had worked on before tucking it into the pocket of his plaid slacks.

When Bisky arrived, she was in the midst of tugging off her apron and folding it over her arm. She took a seat, crossed her legs, and propped an elbow up onto the table. "As you can see, we don't have that much space for equipment, but if you'll be bringing anything—speakers... microphones...—we can make it work."

"Oh, no, I'll just be doing acoustic," Gon confessed, waving his hands. "And I don't—I don't really sing much. I had a sample on there, but with the commotion in a coffee shop I don't know if that will add or detract from the aesthetic."

Bisky smiled at him and said, "You do have a lovely voice, but I agree. You get a pass this time, but one of these days I hope you can sing for us, Gon."

Before Gon could get too flustered, Bisky was on to the scheduling part of their meeting. Since Gon would simply be making commission off of tips from customers, Bisky suggested that he come during rush hour times—in the morning before class or around lunchtime. Gon factored it into his class schedule and decided that he could manage Wednesday mornings without a hitch.

So long as... he woke up on time...

Gon slapped on his brightest smile for class that day and, upon shimmying through the studio door, he caught eyes with Zushi and struck a pose.

Zushi gasped, throwing his hands down on the tabletop and startling Knuckle awake. "You got the gig!" Zushi said.

Gon broke into a little dance, buzzing with energy, and made his way over to their table. He dropped down, slinging his backpack to the ground beside him, as Zushi slapped his arm repeatedly. "She really liked it! I'm gonna be performing next Wednesday morning."

"Oh my God, we'll be there ," Zushi promised.

"We?" Knuckle said, groggy. "How early is it."