hEy BAND heY WHAT hEY BAND HEY WHAT

(Yes he realized he didn’t have anything to do)

Zackary jumped out of his skin when she clattered over to him, hastily sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
“I just needed somewhere to—“ He cut off with her interjection, opening his mouth to protest that he didn’t need anything (that he truly couldn’t afford it). He jumped again when a cup was slammed in front of him.
“I-I, really…” Back to a human, huh? He sighed softly and cupped his face into his hands again.

"Aw, come now." She leaned heavily back against the counter, putting a hand on one side of her mouth. "If I were being, honest, no one's tried it yet. And since you're technically helping me, how about I make it free of charge? Deal?"

Zackary glanced up at her, swallowing a little and his mismatched gray eyes shaded by his long hair. “I guess I could try it,” He murmured softly, grabbing the cup and sipping at the coffee. It tasted like a wonderous mix of cocoa powder, coffee itself, and what tasted like a hint of white chocolate. Not to mention the cream at the top.
“It’s eh… good.” He grinned a sharp-toothed grin.

Melody let out a light- heartened groan.
"Good? That was supposed to be the next invention of the century!" She turned back to clean the remaining dishes, leaving Zack to finish his coffee.
"But since I can't stand the silence, I wanna know every nook and cranny about you." She gave another mischievous grin. "That'll be your way of paying, I guess."

Zackary couldn’t help a tiny eye roll over the cup as. slipped at it again. “There’s not much to know about me,” The adult said softly, sitting down the cup with a clink against the surface of the counter. Nothing that you have to know, at least, Zackary sighed to himself, curling his fingers together.

Melody blinked for a moment, taken by surprise.
"Did you say something?" And before allowing him to respond, shook her head vigorously and flashed another sheepish grin. "Sorry, sometimes I hear people say things they don't really say. I guess that's what I get for having blaring headphones on all the time, huh?" She pulled a chair across from Zackary and sat down, resting her head within her arms. Her emerald eyes burned intensely, as if they were trying to peer within the man's very soul. "Amuse me with a story."

Zackary had opened his mouth to respond, deeming it fruitless to let his voice start with a repeat of his previous sentence. “Oh. Well that’s what happens when you do that type of stuff, I guess,” He sighed softly, rubbing his thumbs on the cup he was holding. He couldn’t bring himself to meet her intense gaze, keeping his snuffed out, tired one on his cup as the waves of steam split at his sharp nose.
“I don’t have a lot of stories worth telling. Not much at all. If I do, they don’t really end well.”

"That's alright." Melody gave an empathetic smile. "I've been told that my stories are too peachy and unrealistic, which sucks since I've wanted to be a writer for my entire life. Give it a go, and I'll help if you'd like." Melody's index finger rubbed against the cheap marble, whether she realized it or not, as if her mind had already been tuned into a song that only she could hear. Her smile glistened with the heart of an intense rhythm, one that her finger slowly began to dance to.

Zackary rubbed the back of his head, looking mildly confused and exhausted. This woman was very enthusiastic per say. The enthusiasm was quite tiring to Zackary’s addled mind.
“But how would you help me write a true story? It’s probably not fiction.” I hope it’s not…

“Hey, good writers have to flexible. Give it a go.”

“Give it a go…” Zackary repeated with a soft sigh. “Alright. Um… do I use a story that I went through and you provide the fictonality? Orrrr….” He left the question on hold, raising his eyebrows.

Melody shrugged lazily, a layer of glistening sleepiness in her eyes. “Surprise me, man.”

“I don’t do surprises,” Zackary said with a dull sigh. “I only do lazy college student. Which do you want?”

Melody pouted. "Writers do not make excuses either. But, since you're a beginner, do what you're best at."

“I’m not a writer. I’m an illustrator.” He rolled his eyes and sipped at his drink again. “Is there another way I can tell you about myself that doesn’t involve fiction?”

Something in Melody's eyes said that she was ready to throw both the chair that Zack currently sat on and herself.
"Dude, tell me literally anything. I haven't sat this long without doing anything in three years. And the last time I did it it was because I was in a coma. I need to hear ANYTHING."

“Well that’s a little mean, isn’t it? A bit of a hyperbole too, don’t you think? Comas usually last years, especially if they’re pushed into the vegetative state. So…. um… anyway, let me think. Okay?” Zackary couldn’t help getting somewhat defense at the look in her eye.

"Er- I don't really want to talk about my coma-," she hastily changed the topic. "Hey, what do you wanna do in life? We could start there, you know."

Zackary straightfaced and nodded a little, shrugging. “I’m not sure. I’m going to college to be a meteorologist, but I don’t know where that’s going to take me. What about you?”

"Mm, I gave up on college a long time ago. It kinda sucks, cuz I used to be really good at school. But my mom convinced me along the way that I wasn't capable of doing anything right, so after a while I started believing in it myself. This my friend's uncle's cafe, actually, and I'm just working here until I publish my first book. If it sells really well, then i'm hoping that I can start writing full- time!" Melody grew a starry expression, as if a part of her was already living in her fantasy- world.

Zackary rose his eyebrows skeptically but grunted nevertheless. “That’s a very nice… eh… vision. I’m quite glad that you have such an ambitious dream.” He grinned, though it was rather flat.

Melody rolled her eyes. 'Alright, Mr. Sarcastic, what do you want to do with this drag life we've all been cursed with?

Zack sighed softly and shook his head. “I’m not sure, really. I kinda wish I could live a more simple life, if that counts.”

Melody let out a giggle. "It does, but I kinda find it funny. When I was growing up, I wanted to be a Queen and lead my soldiers into a battle for the ownership of the Universe. I wanted fire powers and have a red lagoon surrounding my castle. I sound insane, I know, but I would still take the life if it was offered."

Zack rolled his eyes at the wall, sighing. "How does that count as a simple life? I could laugh at that if I wanted, really. You find my wish for life funny?" He asked in slight disbelief.

"Not funny. Just different is all. We're so different, but I totally feel a connection." She gives a lopsided smile and abruptly jumps up. She turns to the backroom, but then asks,
"Do you like music?"

Zack jumped slightly at her sudden movement, keeping his hands firmly planted on the counter as to not upset his cup. He glared at her back angrily as she started to disappear, and huffed.
"What type of question is that?" The Demon asked sarcastically.

"The type of question used to get to know someone better." Melody was pleased to see that she had caused him to show a little more emotion than before… even if it wasn't quite the one see was looking for.
"Well? I like anything, honestly, and I've tried a ton. But I like anything that keeps me moving."

Zack nestled back angrily into his warm flannel, snuggling into the high collar. "I don't care what you play. My genre of music is different." He took a sip of his cooling drink, sighing into the cup.

Melody laughs. "You're pouting like a child. That's so cute," she says, unaware of how her words may come cross. "But I'm interested in what your taste in music is. I'll try that next."