The song that changed my heart

Under New Management

Tw: Internalized biphobia

   

Rody's mind had been in haze ever since he left his conversation with Vincnent. Once again he could feel eyes watching him. Every once in a while he would catch a glimpse of a chef staring at him before quickly returning to the food they were preparing. Vincent had left the kitchen and sunk into the office. Leaving Rody confused on the tension that remained. Although Rody's eyes would catch someone else staring at him. A waitress Rody didn't know, nor had he ever seen. She was a white woman in her twenties, maybe early thirties. Her hair was black, and presumably shoulder length. Though it wasn't easy to tell with it tied back in a ponytail. Her brown eyes would stare at him. Whenever she wasn't doing anything. To say it made Rody feel uneasy would be an oversimplification. She put him more on edge than Vincent, and that really said a lot. As everyone else seemed like they wouldn't touch Vincent with a ten foot pole. Yet luck seemed to be against Rody Lamoree as they were both left waiting for a dish to be made. "Hi." The waitress said in a friendly voice. "Hi?" Rody replied back. "I've never seen you around. Are you new working here?" She asked. "Uhm no I've been working here for almost two months." Rody replied. "Oh. I've just never seen you around. I'm Lauren by the way." The waitress introduced herself. "Rody." "So do you know what happened to the person before you?" Lauren asked. Rody raised a brow. Holding silence for several seconds. Person before him? Lauren seemed to have gotten a hint. "Usually whenever someone new starts working on a day with Vincent it's usually a sign someone messed up, and incurred the wrath of Vincent." Lauren explained. Rody didn't know what to make of it. "Though I'm surprised you have the courage to talk to him. Barely anyone would touch Vincent even if their life depended on it. I go to ask why? Is it because he is hot?" Rody had a double take. "Pardon?" He asked as he shook his head. Lauren shrugged as a plate was placed on the counter. "Nevermind." With that she walked off. Rody looked back into the kitchen. Vincent had returned to his previous spot in the corner. Rody looked back at him. Thinking about what Lauren had said. Sure Vincent looked like he would be the type to pick up many girls. Dark eyes that could capture the soul. Making him wonder what secrets may be held behind them. He couldn't help but feel himself sinking deeper, and deeper into them. "ORDER UP!" Rody snapped out of his trance. Seemingly one of the chefs fuming over a dish waiting on the counter. Rody quickly rushed over grabbing the plate, and serving the plate to the customer. Rody could once again feel eyes upon him. Though his mind had wandered into new ideas. Lyrics, and rhythms bubbling in his head. When he'd get home he'd have to write it down.

Rody wiped his forehead as he finished moving the mop back and forth on the tile floor. Almost everyone had left. Leaving only him, and Vincent. The rain had continued throughout his entire shift. Leaving its calming patterning to echo throughout the empty restaurant. Rody returned the mop to the closet, draining the water from the sink before shutting the closet and turning off the lights. The restaurant was now completely dark. It sent a shiver up his spine. The restaurant gave off the aura that he was going to be murder. He turned around and almost jumped out of skin. His heart was pounding as he placed a hand on his chest and let out a sigh of relief. "Vince, you scared me." Rody said as he stood back up, and walked over to him. Vincent approached him as well. Handing him an umbrella. "For the ride home." Vincent said as he let go of the umbrella. "And it's Vincent, not Vince." Rody looked down before looking back up at Vincent standing in the open doorway. Letting the chilly air flow into the restaurant. Rody walked to it. Opening the umbrella and putting it above him. He looked back as Vincent shut the door. The water now flattening his hair. His shirt, pants, and apron started to also dampen. Leaving it to slightly stick to his skin. Giving Rody a glimpse into his figure. His imagination began to wonder what he would look like without one on. He could feel his cheeks warming up. He shook his head in attempts to drown those thoughts from his brain. He walked over quickly holding the umbrella over Vincent as well. Vincent looked back at Rody confused. "If you're going to let me take your umbrella at least let me walk me to your car dry. Vincent stood there eyeing him before nodding. "Alright then." Vincent said as he began to walk slowly away in the opposite direction from where Rody had locked his bike. The two stood side by side. Their shoulders brushing against each other every now and again. The two walked in an awkward silence. Vincent led him into the parking lot. Rody had never seen the parking lot as empty as it had been. All that was left was a single black car he could only dream of affording. As they approached it Rody's mind thought back to Lauren. "So I have a question about something a waitress said." Rody said quietly. Breaking the silence between the two. "What is it?" Vincent grunted through his teeth. "Well the waitress said that when someone gets put with you it means they're usually stuck with you as the manager, is that true?" Vincent shrugged as they made it to the car doors. Vincent unlocked it and slipped inside. "Good night Rody." Vincent said, looking back at him. "Goodnight Vincent." Rody said before walking back to his bike. Pedaling through the rain was much more pleasant with the extra layer of protection above his head. Though it may have slowed him down a bit. As returned later than usual to his cozy, dry apartment. He quickly discarded the umbrella beside his front door, and kicked off his shoes. Without hesitation he sprints over to a notepad and pen on his coffee table. Scribbling down lyrics that formed in his head earlier that day. What started as a few lines turned into a chorus, and then a verse. Rody looked back at the page. Reading over the page. His heart began to pound as his eyes wandered over the page again. The pronouns of he leaked off of the page. He shook his head and slammed it on the table. Shaking his head. He slapped his hands over his face and dragged them down. "I did it again." He muttered to himself. He grabbed the page standing up and held it over the trash can. His hands ready to crumble it. Yet no matter how hard he tried he couldn't bring himself to do so. He closed his eyes and huffed. Crouching down and then reaching under his couch. Feeling around until his fingers gripped over a plastic cover. He grabbed it and pulled it out. Giving its poor neglect some reveal to light. Throwing it open revealing a small pile of paper. Words that had been etched with ink and lead. Made over years, and left to rot in shame. Shame for the idea that he would've even written these words. No matter the appearance, no matter when, all they had been filled with were not about any of the exes, the many other poems, and songs he had written. He shoved it in with the other pages filled with repeated pronouns of he, and him. Slamming it shut and shoving it under the couch where it belonged. He sat up on the couch rubbing his hands through his hair. He needed to do something else. His eyes landed on the guitar laid against the wall. He grabbed it, pulling it onto his lap. Strumming the strings with the tunes that he had in mind from the night before. Though his mind began to wander back to the lyrics. A new tune began to form. Though this time Rody didn't refuse. He let the tune engulf him, bringing him some peace at the end of the day.