My stomach was finally sated. No more growls, simply a satisfied bloated state leaving me in a lethargic food coma. I clutched the back of my chair, wobbling a little as I stretched my back. I never knew how good meat and sweets could taste together. Then again, when I was still alive I never even considered the idea of eating chicken with waffles. The mere thought always made me leer. A smile peeked on my face at a distant memory; someone who might've been close to me before swore the combination would blow me out of this world. They had a huge smile on their face while eating, too—even when I leered at their plate. I think I got what they meant now.
Maybe that was my coworker. But no matter how much I tried to distinguish their face, my thoughts went static. Was there any point in trying? Even if they were still around, I wasn't the Lucille they knew anymore. My grip on the seat tightened as I pushed it under the table. That didn't matter right now; more importantly, what was I supposed to do with this discovery? I could only recall the mundane chores I did at work but could... could I somehow mash meat and sweets together like chicken and waffles? What I did with the macarons was interesting, but what about more variety along with the meat filling? How far could I go? Doughnuts, carrot cakes, cookies, sandwiches, and other snacks, all jam-packed with the finest meat slices.
Saliva gathered in my mouth. I slid my tongue over my lips before a drop could slip out. This was something worth looking to, if not for quenching my curiosity then to please my appetite. How many combinations could be made? C-Could blood be incorporated as an ingredient? Savages had the sweetest blood so it shouldn't have been a problem to take a bit. But where can I get some? No, no, I had to find recipes first. There was no way I could make this without some help. Maybe Charles could—
A hand placed on my shoulder shattered my concentration. The source turned out to be Wastia, wearing a crooked grin.
"You're smilin' kinda strange there, bud," she stated after a tilt of her head. "You alright?"
Mouth agape, I looked behind her to see Charles and Styke observing me with equal concern. Oh, that was close. I almost went out of line. My eyes lingered on the jaw-juggling zo... I mean, mortem, as I let out a sigh. "Fine, fine, but I think I'm gonna need Charles for a few days."
She removed her hand and shrugged. "Sure, take 'em."
"Hold up." Charles took strides toward us. He had deep creases in his forehead, more layered than the bacon I had this morning. "I'm not some last slice of pizza up for grabs, I'll have you know. It's the damn weekend. Don't you think I have plans?"
"Plans? You?" Wastia exclaimed, finger pointed at him. She then hummed as if in thought for a few seconds. "Nope, nothing comes to mind. Any thoughts, Styke?"
The guy scratched his stubble and stepped closer. "I bet has a date." Once he was by Charles' side, he draped his shoulder over the pale fellow with a smirk. "Ain't that right, lover boy?"
"Hm... you may be on to something," Charles teased, an air of nonchalance wrapping around him. He kept a sole finger centimeters away from meeting his lips. "But, that's a story for another time."
Despite Wastia's usual composure, a chuckle managed to escape her teeth's clutches. She gave Charles a light punch. "Knock it off; we all know you plan to spend it fussing over that treasure of yours. Still haven't eaten it?"
Treasure? Ripped stockings and drool dripping on flesh came to mind. Ah, that. I averted my eyes. H-How much preparation was needed to cook a l-l-l-leg? What sweets went well with it? Was the meat soft and tender, or... nevermind that. It was best to focus on this new opportunity. But, what was I hoping to accomplish with this?
"Um, guys?" I sliced through their bantering with uncertainty cracking my tone. When they turned to me, I rubbed my neck and looked to the floor. "Would you guys mind if I started working?"
I needed to buy ingredients to test this weird combination. If push came to shove I'd just use their money, but I didn't want to depend on someone else. That was probably how Jack got fed up with my BS in the first place, right?
Charles crossed his arms. "Are you sure you can handle it?"
"Doesn't sound like a good idea," Styke added on.
I faced Wastia, hands clasped together. "I won't mess it up, I swear. I just need someone to show me where to start."
"I mean, it's great you want to start looking but, do you remember any of the skills you used to have?" Her shoulders relaxed―a possible sign that she was warming up to me. "There's also the problem with you constantly calling us the 'z word.' That doesn't go well in customer service."
"I-I'm working on that, y'know," I said while we walked out the food court. All I had to do was stop myself from saying it in my head and we'd be hunky-dory.
She nodded. "Good. In that case, we'll have to explain the basics like we said."
"We?" Styke and Charles sputtered at the same time, eyes threatening to roll out their sockets when they twisted their heads back to us.
Wait no, one of Styke's did. My hands swooshed out to catch it before it could do whatever eyeballs did when they fell to floors.
"I got it!" I cupped my hands around the moist ball. It rolled in my palm, leaving sticky goo in its path. Oh cripes, that was gross. Although I did my best to swallow my disgust, a leer still pulled my lips back. "Take it, quick."
"Alright. But if you drop that, you're dead." He grabbed his gross organ and pushed it back in his socket. It reminded me of someone putting contacts in, but on a louder, more disturbing scale. After blinking a few times, he crossed his arms and scoffed, "I don't plan on wasting time helping you spread your wings. In fact, you shouldn't either, Wasty. We have decent paying jobs."
"Yeah, but there aren't as many listings as there used to be." The mortem released a sigh while glancing to Styke. "Don't you think it's time we looked somewhere else?"
"Just because there aren't many doesn't mean they're gone. They're just finally using their brains."
I raised my hand, brows furrowed. "Uh, if you don't mind me asking―who're you two talking about?"
Styke peeked at Wastia. When she shook her head, he said, "We can talk about that another time. Anyways, I have to keep my promise from then, so just... ask me if Wastia's out."
This was all sounding very roundabout. Even so, I had to deal with them until I was up on my feet. "Great. So about my job-hunting...?"
Charles pressed the exit door open. Once we were all out the food court and heading for the elevator, he spoke up. "First off, what kind of job are you looking to get?"
My mouth hung agape as my thoughts searched for an answer. Something with sweets would be nice, since I want to delve into this idea more. But I'd have to research if other restaurants or bakeries were already doing this idea. What was this area called? Something management...
The doors slid open, but I didn't move. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't name it! Regardless, I had an idea. If I remembered anything else from when I was alive, it was―
"Lulu?" Charles called out while holding the doors open.
I arched my back and pulled my feet together. With bulging eyes, I blurted out, "I-I want to own a bakery."
"Great! We can talk all about it once you get the hell in here." Wastia's budding frustration seethed out with her words.
"Okay, okay," I muttered before sprinting inside. As the doors closed, jitters tickled my skin. It'd been so long since I could even fathom getting a career, much less anyone caring enough to ask what I wanted to do. Civilians were so cold despite having such warm bodies. What a pity.
"A bakery, huh? Guess that suits you." Charles nudged me with his elbow, a smile on his jigsaw-puzzle-of-a-face. "I think C-TAC has something related to that, right?" His last word rose an octave while looking to his companions for confirmation.
Styke just shrugged his shoulders. "Don't remember."
"They might've?" Wrinkles spread across her forehead when she looked up. "Can't say I recall; it's been awhile."
"Same. We can check later though," Charles noted.
"Oh, so you are taking her over the weekend?" Styke's stoic expression was broken by a smirk pulling his lips up.
He gave a huff in response to Styke's tease. "Might as well, since eating doesn't take the whole weekend."
"Whatever you say, pal," Wastia commented. She chuckled, then walked ahead with Styke by her side. She showed a softer grin when they chatted in hushed tones.
I watched them for awhile, curious. They seemed close; like they'd be alright in a world with just each other. Looked like they had a long history I shouldn't ask about. Instead of thinking about them further, I turned to Charles. "Thanks for taking time out your obviously busy schedule to help me out."
"Pssh, with that attitude I might stand you up," he grumbled.
With a shake of my head, I crossed my arms. "Unfortunately, there are no take backs. A deal's a deal."
He muttered a few curses, leading to me punching his shoulder.
"By the way, what's a uh,'C-TAP'?" I asked.
"Ah, CTAC?" His eyebrows rose once he spoke. "It's like college, but less...hellish. Well no, that isn't right. More straightforward, I guess? And funner. Definitely funner."
I couldn't help squinting at him while digging in my pocket for my key card. "That's a shitty explanation."
"You need to go there if you're serious about starting a business." Charles continued, ignoring my comment, "This'll be a nice chance to show what us mortem have to offer."
Hand on my doorknob, I looked back to them as excitement bubbled in my gut. "Looking forward to it. G'night, guys!"
Styke and Charles waved without a word, Charles in quick movements while Styke was slower than honey. Once I heard Wastia bid me farewell, I entered my room. It was hard to believe a nice dinner was all I needed to make this day sweeter.