Dear Diary | Proxies

ii. gloved and ungloved hands

'At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet
And a freight train running through the middle of my head
Only you can cool my desire
Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire.'

As I sang, I got closer to the window, almost expecting him to vanish into thin air, but he didn't, standing as strangely still as the hallucination last night, but this one didn't throw his head to the side like the other. I hummed along to the final lyrics quietly as I moved to slowly close the window and shut the curtains. I had conjured up weirder images than a man in a mask before.

Still, a quiet thought pushed through my skull. Why were they not see-through in the slightest?

"Juniper," Margaret's voice was more of a squeal than anything as I stepped through the front door of the restaurant.

I gave her a small smile as I stepped behind the counter, grabbing a ticket book. "Didn't expect to see me again so soon, now did you?"

She giggled and shook her head. "It's a good surprise though! Did someone call out?"

"Tyler."

She let out a low 'ohhh' and nodded her head. "Yeah, okay, yeah. Well, you can have that side – I know you prefer it. There's someone sitting at the low bar that I haven't gotten to yet, and I'm going to clear the one booth in just a second."

I began to tune out her rambling as she apologized for the mess already there. It wasn't her fault; it was the shift before's, but I supposed she felt it was her responsibility since I wasn't normally this late. I moved around the restaurant quickly, taking care of tables and Margaret as much as I could. It was fairly boring. After ten, people didn't come in too much unless they were drunk, high, or both. Two police officers came in at one point, and I rolled my eyes, passing the table over to Margaret who took it with a wary smile. Police around here were rude as hell, and I didn't care to deal with it tonight.

I was nursing my third cup of coffee in the back, the time reading midnight – only an hour left = when Margaret stepped near me, motioning to the high bar. "There's someone who asked if you could serve them."

I quirked an eyebrow. When was the last time that had happened? But, when I stepped into the main area, I understood.

"Back again so soon," I asked, a playful smile on my face as I handed Toby his silverware and menu.

He snapped his head to me, having been staring outside the dark window. A grin lit up his face, and he bounced slightly in the high seat. "I-I wasn-n't going t-t-t-to, but th-then I-I-I got an urge ffff-for waff-ffles, but the oth-others were alrrr-ready assss-sleep." He clicked his tongue and cracked his neck before scratching his nose lightly.

"Do you want three chocolate chip ones again with a Hi-C, or something else?"

He nodded his head quickly. "Yesss-s, yes, that."

I grinned at the enthusiasm and stepped back a few steps, deciding to make them myself since Jeremy was outside smoking at the moment with Margaret. "Well, I guess I'll make sure to make them with extra love, huh?" He giggled at the statement and kicked the bar in front of him lightly, probably swinging his legs by the looks of it. There was no one else in the restaurant, so he had my full attention. "Do you normally get the urge for waffles at midnight?"

He nodded. "Y-yeah-eah, actuallyyy, but normal-normally I have h-hel-help. I-I-I'm not allow-ed in the kitch-kitchen mmm-much."

I hummed at that and gave him his drink. "Comfort food?" He nodded. "That's me with Doritos. The amount of bags I have gone through of those is insane. Also, sometimes, I show up outside of work here to get one of the sandwiches."