The hallway outside the theater was quieter now, most of the crowd having already dispersed. Riza and I strolled leisurely, the lingering excitement from the movie still hanging in the air. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and glanced over at me.
"You hungry?" she asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
I hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, surprisingly."
Her face lit up, but as we both pulled out our holo-devices to check the nearby options, our excitement quickly soured. Every listing showed "Closed" in dull red letters, save for one familiar name that glowed persistently at the top of the list.
"15 Percent," Riza read aloud, her tone flat. She turned to me with a mix of disbelief and reluctance.
I groaned, shaking my head as I waved a hand in front of my face dramatically, as if dispelling the very thought. "There's no way she's working this late. It's practically midnight. She has to be off by now."
Riza immediately nodded in agreement, crossing her arms. "No chance. Under the Galactic Labor Standardization Act, Clause 4, Article 12, no one can work more than 10 hours a day. She was already messing with us during dinner. That was, what, at least six hours ago?"
"Exactly!" I said, gesturing emphatically. "She'd have to be home by now, feet up, probably watching some cheesy holo-drama while sipping on that same strawberry milk tea she was pushing on us."
Riza laughed, the tension easing slightly. "Right? There's no way she'd still be there. Even if she wanted to, the law's pretty strict about enforcing that cap."
I nodded. "So, we're safe. We can grab some food without worrying about more of her antics."
"Good," Riza said, flipping her holo-device shut. "Because if she is there, and she sees us again, I might just throw in the towel and give her my forwarding address. At this rate, she'll track us for the rest of our lives."
We shared a laugh, both a little more relaxed as we headed toward the only open food joint.
he 15 Percent diner was a surprising hive of activity given the late hour. The soft, ambient lighting reflected warmly off the polished wooden tables, casting gentle shadows across the walls adorned with elegant artwork. The faint hum of conversations, the clinking of utensils, and the soothing melodies of a low piano track created a welcoming atmosphere. Despite the hour, the place was packed, almost buzzing with energy.
Riza and I found an open booth near the back and slid into our seats. As I glanced around at the unexpectedly crowded restaurant, a sense of disbelief settled in. "I can't believe this place is this busy. It's practically midnight," I muttered.
"Same," Riza replied, her voice tinged with skepticism as she flipped open her menu. "I guess the midnight snack crowd's stronger than we thought."
We both leaned into our menus, scanning the options. The quiet hum of the diner lulled us into a false sense of security—until the sound of the door opening was accompanied by a painfully familiar voice.
"Oh my, out a little late, aren't we?"
Our menus froze mid-air, and we exchanged wide-eyed glances before slowly looking over, as if hoping we'd misheard. But there she was.
Our waitress.
She walked toward us, her presence somehow commanding the attention of the entire room. Her uniform—a sleek, tailored burgundy dress with subtle gold accents—seemed impossibly pristine, even after what must have been a long shift. Her glossy black hair was pulled into a high ponytail, the strands catching the light with every step. The soft glow of the restaurant highlighted her striking features—sharp cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes that gleamed with amusement, and lips that curved into a half-cracked, mischievous smile. She carried herself with an elegance that only amplified the undercurrent of mischief she was about to unleash.
"Good evening," she said smoothly, stopping at our table and placing her hands lightly on her hips. "Or should I say, good night? Didn't expect to see you two again so soon." Her eyes sparkled as she leaned in slightly, her tone playful. "Or did you miss me already?"
Riza and I sat frozen, utterly speechless. I glanced down at the menu, as if willing it to provide some kind of escape, but there was no getting out of this.
"Name's Lydia, by the way," she continued, straightening up with a flourish. "Figured it's only fair you know who's been keeping your evenings so entertaining."
She let the words hang in the air for a moment, clearly savoring the tension she'd created. Then, with a tilt of her head, she gestured toward the menus we clung to like lifelines. "So, what'll it be? Need a minute to decide, or does loverboy here already have it all figured out?"
The jab was delivered with surgical precision, and I felt the heat rising to my face. Riza fumbled her menu, nearly dropping it as she struggled to form words. "We—we'll need a minute," she managed to squeak out, her voice an octave higher than normal.
"Y-yeah," I chimed in awkwardly, forcing a weak smile. "A minute sounds good."
Lydia's smile widened, her lips curling into a full, mischievous grin. "Take your time, then," she said sweetly, stepping back. "But don't take too long. Wouldn't want you two lovebirds falling asleep before dessert."
With that, she spun on her heel and walked off, leaving us to drown in our own embarrassment. Riza slumped against the booth, covering her face with her hands. "I can't believe this," she groaned.
"I told you there was no way she'd still be here," I muttered, more to myself than to her.
Riza peeked at me through her fingers, her cheeks still flushed. "You're dealing with her next time."
"Sure," I said, though we both knew that wasn't going to happen. Lydia was a force of nature, and we were just along for the ride.
Lydia returned a few minutes later, her presence as effortlessly commanding as before. She approached the table with that same confident stride, a gleam of amusement still shining in her almond-shaped eyes. Her notepad was in hand, though it was clear from her expression that she didn't actually need it to remember anything.
"Alright, you two," she began, stopping at the edge of the table. "Are we ready to order, or do you need more time to—strategize?"
I felt Riza stiffen beside me, but before she could respond, I straightened up and nodded quickly. "Yes, we're ready," I said, my voice firm with determination.
I glanced at my menu one last time, ensuring my choices were as neutral and straightforward as possible. "I'll have two double cheeseburgers with bacon, no pickles. Side of fries. And, uh…" I hesitated slightly, feeling Lydia's eyes on me. "A chocolate milkshake for me, and a vanilla milkshake for Riza."
I closed the menu with a definitive snap, placing it on the table with what I hoped was an air of finality. No ammo, I told myself. Just the basics of two cheeseburgers for myself. Nothing she can twist.
But Lydia's mischievous grin only grew wider as she jotted down the order. She tilted her head, her ponytail swaying slightly, and then shifted her gaze toward Riza.
"And what about you, sweetie? What would you like?" she asked, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.
Riza froze, her menu halfway closed, her cheeks flushing a deep red. "I—I already placed my order," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lydia's grin became a full-blown smirk as she arched an eyebrow. "Oh, did you now?" she teased, her pen hovering over her notepad. "Well, isn't that thoughtful of him? Ordering for you like a true gentleman."
Riza looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole, and I wasn't far behind. "That's not—" I started, but Lydia cut me off with a wave of her pen.
"No, no, I get it. Totally adorable." She winked at Riza, her tone conspiratorial. "It's nice to see someone being so decisive. Takes the pressure off, right?"
Riza buried her face in her hands, clearly done with the conversation, while I just sighed, knowing there was no salvaging this. Lydia tapped her notepad with satisfaction and gave us one last grin.
"Alright, two double cheeseburgers, bacon, no pickles, fries, chocolate shake, and vanilla shake," she recited, then added with a playful lilt, "Anything else I can get for my favorite late-night duo?"
I shook my head quickly. "No, that's it."
"Perfect," Lydia said, spinning on her heel. "Be right back with your drinks. Don't go anywhere, lovebirds."
As she walked away, her laughter lingered in the air like a tangible weight. Riza finally peeked out from behind her hands, her eyes narrowing at me.
"This is your fault," she hissed.
I threw up my hands defensively. "How is this my fault? I tried to make it as simple as possible!"
"And yet she still managed to turn it into a whole thing!" Riza groaned, slumping against the booth.
I leaned back in my seat, letting out a long sigh. "Let's just hope she doesn't come back with a megaphone."
Riza chuckled despite herself, shaking her head. "At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised."