Verse One

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"This isn't what I ordered," a voice whined nasally as my arm was clamped, halting me. "I ordered a Traditional American and this doesn't have any bacon."

Like you need bacon, I grumbled internally as I judged the overweight man. His stomach was nearly popping open the buttons on his sauce stained shirt for crying out loud! Pasting a sickly-sweet smile on my face and disentangled myself from his oily, burger hand grip.

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir!" I gasped with an appropriate level of horror. "Let me get that back to the kitchen right now for you."

"Thank you," he simpered.

Rolling my eyes inwardly, I scooped up his half-eaten burger and made a beeline for the kitchen, ignoring the annoyed scowl of the customers in my section. They would have to wait now until Tubby McTubTub got his bacon.

"Jason," I called out. "Can I get a piece of bacon for this burger, please?"

"Anything for you songbird," he crooned, and I smiled.

Jason was our cook and a damn good one. I always said he could do better than this place. We got along like a house on fire and part of that was because he was the only guy who had never tried anything more than just being my friend. He was a typical hipster, but he fashioned a damn good man-bun and a solid beard. I could do without the boat shoes but thankfully, he had to wear his proper kitchen boots here.

"Bacon for you," he smirked.

"Thank you," I chirped before I looked at him properly. "Jason, why do you look so happy? It's not even ten o'clock."

That man usually needed five coffees before he'd even acknowledge your existence.

"Why am I happy?" he asked as he looked offended. "Are you telling me that you don't know?"

"Know what?" I demanded.

"Nope," he shook his head. "Go deliver your bacon, we'll talk later."


"Katerina!" Charlie called from the bar. "Your section is overflowing!"

Hastily, I shoved the bacon inside the burger and scurried back outside, depositing the meal before moving along to my other tables. I was distracted though, while I worked. What was Jason so happy about and what didn't I know? What was I supposed to know?

By the time the end of my shift rolled around, I had made a measly amount of tips and been yelled at more times than I could count. The diner was quiet now, being late afternoon and close to closing time. I washed my hands hastily and tucked my apron into my hand bag as I watched Jason slip out the backdoor for a cigarette. Bingo.

Grabbing my keys out of my bag, I followed him.

"So," I started. "What am I supposed to know?"

"Oh Kit-Kat," he laughed. "I can't believe you don't know! Don't you check your emails?!"


"Okay!" he raised his arms, his smoke hanging from his lips. "America's Popstar has just released their online application forms. They put out the notice this morning."

"What?" I shrieked as I frantically scrambled through my bag, trying to find my phone. "Are you kidding me? What time? I checked right before my shift started!"

"Did you check your junk folder?" he asked as he took a long puff.

Idiot, I smacked my forehead.

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