Theodessa looked down, blushing. “Oh.”

“They liked your music so much, my daughter said we should hire you.”

“I can’t work here,” Theodessa said. “My parents don’t allow me to have a job.”

“You’re in high school, right?”

Theodessa nods. “Senior year.” 

“Most parents would push their child out of the house or force them to get a job.”

Theodessa looks down. She couldn’t say her parents forced her into a different business. Or say her secret job as a funeral composer was too time-consuming. After all, she made it to the cafe a lot of the weeks to hang out with her friends.  

“It’s alright,” Alli said. “I understand. But once you’re out of the nest, the offers here if you need it.”

“Thank you.”

Like ice, Theodessa melted into the chair, comforting her. She slipped into a comfortable conversation with Alli.  

“Testing testing.”

Theodessa looked up and saw they were set up. Lex sitting in the drummer’s seat, spinning a drumstick with a hand as he waited for the other two to get ready. Carlet with a pink electric guitar strapped over her shoulder. Deral had one too, but a striking red, with fewer strings.

Deral celebrated as if the microphone was difficult to adjust. Not that Theodessa knew. They tuned their instruments and waited before telling Alli they were ready to play. 

Alli pulled out his phone and opened an app. Filled with on-off settings, scrolling until he saw the Midnight America setting and turned it on. 

 “Alright, you’re on the clock,” he called up to them. 

Deral gave Alli a thumbs up. A few seconds later, Lex started the first song with a steady beat. Then the guitars came in. Instead of their usual full force, instant energy, it was tamer. 

“Most of the customers didn’t like their music, so they toned it down.” Alli said. “They don’t post the songs on the internet because of the audience they’ve accumulated. Or so they tell me.”

“They could easily find another set of listeners if they do both.”

“They’ve probably thought about it, but I wouldn’t know. They are much better than I am. After all, I’m just a baker.”

Theodessa nods slightly. “But if your only one thing, you get trapped doing only that one thing. Kind of like them being scared to lose their audience.”

Alli nods but doesn’t reply, listening to the music for a while before turning to Theodessa.

“I have to get back to work. The pastries aren’t going to make themselves.” he smiles. 

Theodessa waves as he leaves, too upset at the thought of breaking the sound of Midnight America. She found this side of them easier to follow but wondered how much they enjoyed playing it. From their faces, they still had fun, but they were held back by their own chains. She wondered if they felt it holding back their wrists, keeping them from playing a note too strong, or playing too fast. Or if they even realized they were tangled in the chains. 

She looked out the window. Rain drizzled on the window. People came in seeking shelter from the dampness outside, cramping themselves inside. The sound of people talking drowned out Midnight America’s music, but from their faces, they didn’t mind. As if they were playing for a bubble of people that only encompassed them.