Eclipse

16

Shion
"The flu?"
I paused mid-pour, looking up at Rose. She was standing by the service bar during our mid-week prep, her fingers tapping a tight, anxious rhythm against her clipboard.
"First Melanie, now half the floor team," Rose sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Two of our main security officers just called out with fevers. If this virus spreads to the rest of the staff before next Friday night, we are going to be operating on a skeleton crew. I can't afford to lose anyone else."
"Don't look at me, boss," Maya chirped from the prep table, confidently slicing lemons. "I'm basically a cockroach. I have the immune system of a dumpster diver. I'll survive a nuclear war before I get a runny nose."
I let out a quiet, cynical huff. "Cockroaches don't usually brag about their health right before a massive weekend rush, Maya. Don't tempt fate."
"I'm invincible, Shion," she laughed, throwing a lemon slice into the garnish tray. "Just watch."
She wasn't invincible.
The very next evening, the "invincible cockroach" arrived for her shift looking like a walking ghost. Her skin was deathly pale, her eyes were glazed, and she was moving at a fraction of her usual speed. When she tried to lift a tray of clean highball glasses, her hands shook so badly I had to reach across the counter and take it from her before she dropped the entire inventory.
"Maya," I said, my voice dropping into a stern whisper. "Look at me."
She blinked up at me, her eyes unfocused. "I'm fine. Just... a little cold. The AC in the lounge is really high tonight."
I reached across the narrow space separating us and placed the back of my hand flat against her forehead.
My heart did a strange, sudden flip. Her skin was burning hot.
"What's going on back here?" Rose asked, sweeping into the station.
"Ms. Cockroach is burning up," I told Rose, keeping my hand on Maya's forehead for just a second longer than necessary before pulling back. "She has a massive fever."
Rose took one look at Maya's flushed cheeks and closed her clipboard with a definitive snap. "You're going home right now, Maya. I'm calling you an Uber, and I am formally forbidding you from getting out of bed until you are completely recovered."
"But the floor support—" Maya protested weakly.
"Go home," me and Rose said in unison.
By the time the next shift ended, the breakroom was thick with worry. Maya lived completely alone in a tiny, rented studio apartment. She had no family nearby, and knowing her chaotic personality, she was probably trying to survive on stale ramen and tap water.
"We should go check on her," Christina said, pulling her coat on after closing. "She's probably miserable."
"I'm in," Liam agreed.
"Let's meet up later today after we've all had some sleep," Christina suggested, adjusting her scarf. "We can head over to her place together."
I hesitated, my hand resting on my bag. It felt like a massive breach of my usual boundaries. I didn't do house calls for coworkers. But the thought of her sitting in a dark, empty apartment, too stubborn to ask for help, completely eroded my willpower. "Alright. I'll come too."
Later that afternoon, I stood outside the concrete entrance of Maya's subway station, squinting against the dim light until Liam's sedan pulled up to the curb with a sharp tap of his horn.
"Hop in," Liam called out, leaning across the passenger seat to throw the door open. "Move it before the traffic cop behind me writes a ticket."
Christina quickly slid into the back, and I took the passenger seat, shutting the door as Liam hit the gas and pulled back onto the quiet city avenue.
Finding her place turned out to be a tactical puzzle. Liam drove while I stared intently at my phone as Google Maps struggled to locate the narrow, outdated alleyway where her building was tucked away.
Before we rang the bell, Christina dragged us into a tiny bakery on the corner. "We can't show up empty-handed," she insisted, buying a box of fresh pastries.
We walked up the creaking stairs to the third floor, located her door, and I hesitated for a fraction of a second before pushing the buzzer.
I expected the door to stay locked, or to see a miserable, blanket-wrapped Maya peek out. Instead, the lock clicked instantly, and the door swung wide open to reveal a middle-aged woman.
I froze, instantly modernizing my posture. "Oh. I apologize. We must have the wrong apartment—"
"Mom? Who's at the door?"
Maya's distinct, scratchy voice echoed from the living room.
The woman's face lit up with a massive, incredibly warm smile. She looked exactly like an older version of Maya, right down to the bright, expressive lines around her eyes. "Oh, goodness! You must be Maya's coworkers! Come in, come in! Don't just stand out there in the hall!"
Before any of us could explain ourselves, Maya's mom practically pulled us inside, her words tumbling out in a cheerful, unstoppable torrent.
"I'm Sarah, Maya's mother," she said, taking the bakery box from Christina with a gasp of appreciation. "Oh, you sweet things! Maya moved to this city some months ago and I have been absolutely worried sick about her every single day. And look at her! She gets the flu and doesn't even tell her own mother! It's a miracle I decided to visit her just to surprise her. I walked in and found her shivering under three blankets. I'm staying right here until she is completely back on her feet."
She ushered us into the tiny living room, completely ignoring our polite protests as she started setting up a pot of coffee.
"Sit, sit! Tell me everything. Is she doing a good job? She talks about you guys constantly," Sarah chirped, lobbing random questions about the club's inventory while shuffling around the small kitchen.
I glanced around the apartment. It was exactly what I should have expected. The small room was completely covered in colorful anime merchandise. Figurines lined the shelves, posters hung on the walls, and right there on the mismatched sofa was Maya.
She was buried under a massive, fluffy green blanket with a picture of Mao Mao, holding a remote control and lazily watching Demon Slayer on a small TV screen.
"Guys!" she wheezed, her voice thick from the cold, but a bright, genuine smile immediately broke through her pale face.
"You actually came. I thought you'd be glad to finally get a break from me."
"You look terrible," I muttered, walking over to stand by the edge of the sofa. "So much for the nuclear-resistant cockroach."
"Don't slander my immune system while I'm down," she wheezed, giving me a weak, dramatic glare from under her fluffy green blanket. Then, she peeked over the blanket at Christina and Liam, her eyes crinkling with warmth. "Thank you so much for coming all the way out here. And for the pastries! Mom, please stop interrogating them and let them actually breathe."
Sarah laughed, waving a hand dismissively as she set down the coffee mugs. "Oh, hush, sweetie. I'm just making sure your friends are well-fed!"
Maya let out a soft, amused sigh, leaning her head back against the sofa cushions. Her green eyes locked onto mine, a familiar, terrifyingly sharp writer's focus suddenly cutting through her exhausted gaze.
"So... Shion, how is Eclipse surviving without me? Did anyone dramatic come in tonight? Did Marcus show up? Tell me there's gossip. I need a plot twist for chapter fifteen."
I let out a slow, long-suffering roll of my eyes, but a wave of genuine relief washed through me as I looked at her mom bustling around the kitchen. She wasn't alone. She was being taken care of.
"No gossip," I said smoothly, leaning against the arm of the sofa. "The club was completely boring. But... I suppose if anything interesting actually happens, I'll call and let you know."
Maya blinked, her green eyes widening slightly under her messy bangs. "Really? You promise?"
"Don't make me regret it," I murmured.
"You're the best," she beamed, though a sudden cough cut her off. She sank back into the pillows, looking up at me with a lazy, teasing smile. "There's always something interesting happening at the club, Shion. You're just blind to it. You look at people and just see hollow shells."
"Focus on recovering, author," I countered, though I couldn't stop the microscopic smirk from touching my lips. "Save your energy for the manuscript."
We stayed for a few more minutes, sipping the coffee her mother practically forced into our hands, until Maya's eyelids started to grow heavy from the medicine. As we finally made our exit, Sarah followed us all the way to the door, talking at lightning speed about Maya's childhood writing habits until the elevator doors finally closed between us.
"She is a force of nature," Liam laughed as we walked out of the building. "Now we know where Maya gets it."
"Yeah," I murmured, shoving my hands deep into my coat pockets.
Down on the street, Liam unlocked his car. "Alright, jump in. I'll drop you off at your place first, Shion."
I looked down the block toward the main avenue, then back at the car. "Actually, don't worry about it, Liam. Go ahead and take Christina home. I'm just going to walk."
"You sure?" Liam asked, leaning his arm on the driver's door. "It's freezing out here."
"Yeah. It's fine," I said, shoving my hands deep into my pockets.
"Suit yourself. See you next shift," Liam waved, hopping inside and pulling out into the city street.
I walked down the sidewalk, the cool wind brushing against my face. Maya's scratchy voice kept echoing in my head. You're just blind to it. You look at people and just see hollow shells.
I thought about the glamorous woman who had tried to flirt with me on Friday, and Marcus sitting entirely alone in his dark corner for three years, staring at a blank screen. I had spent my entire career in hospitality building a wall, treating the guests like numbers and inventory because it was easier. It was safer.
But as I looked up at the towering, quiet buildings of the city, I realized something uncomfortable. Maya was right - every single person who walked through those velvet curtains had a timeline. A story. A disaster they were trying to outrun.
For the first time in a year, I found myself actually wanting to listen.