Hell's Kitchen: The Truth Behind the Papa Louie Universe

Chapter Five

Wednesday nights always stressed Akari out now. Wednesday nights meant Thursday. Thursday meant Quinn. Quinn meant Olivia, but somehow that also stressed her out. She still felt so conflicted about her– the weird stuff with the Closer's the other day, the way she was acting so secretive about everything, hell, even romantically, as much as she hated to admit it. She was such a wreck. Busy week, work-wise, the building across the street, Roastwell Manor, was hosting a Halloween gala and the cafe was catering! Yippee! Cannolis only, and it wasn't bad, it was the inevitable filming day she was dreading. And the Closers didn't help with it all, although the appearance of their new Halloween costumes was fun. Now she got to be terrorized in style. She hated saying that, it felt so dramatic, but that's how it was. Terrifying. And not even one-dimensional terrifying, because the fact that it was terrifying probably scared her more. It shouldn't have been scary, and it was. The costumes took the edge off a little, Whippa's dumb mummy-robot costume made her look like a puppet, and those weren't scary. Petrona's plague doctor costume was pretty, and the lack of eye contact it provided was nice. Plus, it was easy to pretend she was fake scared of the costume when the chill that came with the door bell ring ran down her spine. She didn't like Duke Gotcha's though, his little Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde get up. It felt too telling, too accurate. He's the kind of guy who she didn't have any trouble believing had a dark side to his little newscaster front. But maybe it was just her. And that was the worst part, not knowing. Olivia had said she knew there were "other people who feel it too". Like she had some sort of sixth sense Olivia hadn't been blessed with. Still, if there was, she'd do well to know. She really wanted to.

Allan laid on the couch, watching a sitcom. He'd had hockey practice tonight, a rough one by the looks of it, because he was still in his practice clothes and hadn't moved from the spot since he got home. His gear was strewn across the floor, and Akari hoped that wasn't a common practice of his. The ice from his skates had melted into a puddle that better not ruin the floor. Taking care not to step in it, she took a deep breath, searching for a good conversation starter. What said: 'Hey, do you think we could maybe discuss if the Closers are, I don't know, demons or something?'

"First week done, huh?" It wasn't that, but it would have to do. Allan muted the TV.

Allan sighed. "Yep."

Maybe she should further the conversation, get closer to the topic, no pun intended, but she didn't have time for that. She was anxious to know what he thought.

"Do the... uh- the Closers seem... off to you?"

"Closers?"

"Like the last customers of the day."

"Oh. I don't know, Akari, I'm usually out on delivery during that time."

Shit, that was right. She hadn't even thought about that. But surely he'd had some interaction with a Closer, maybe he still knew something.

"Oh, yeah. What about– Petrona? Does something seem... not weird really, but uncanny? About her?"

"Huh. I don't really know. Don't think I was paying that much attention. Why?"

"No- no reason."

"Cool." He turned the sound back on.

Maybe it really was all in her head.

She stepped backward, forgetting the puddle of melted ice behind her. Gross, wet socks.

"Hey, Allan?" It was enough to set her off again, just a little. What, he wasn't gonna give her the assurance that she wasn't crazy about the Closers, and then his hockey mess was gonna give her trouble? Frankly, there are people who've killed for less. Besides, it was a discussion they should have had already.