The building itself looked like a neon fever dream—pink and blue paint peeling off the stucco walls, grease stains baked into the sidewalk, and a flickering sign. The windows were tinted, probably to hide the fact that the inside was even worse.

I didn’t care if BB was that kind of establishment. They were hiring, and I needed a job.

“Hello, welcome to Beef Babys. How may I help you?” a female cashier asked as I walked in.

The air inside smelled like fryer oil, and something sour that had settled into the floor tiles. The lighting was dim, but not in a cozy way—more like the bulbs were coated in grease and dust. The booths were cracked vinyl, the kind that stuck to your thighs if you sat too long. 

“I’m here for an interview,” I said, glancing at her name tag.

Paula. That was her name. I bet she thought I was checking out her tits. I definitely checked out her tits. Anyone working the front end of that joint might as well have been topless. Their uniforms were basically lingerie with aprons. I guess I was still into women, after all.

“You’re Tommy?” she asked.

“Friends call me Tom,” I answered with a smile, but she didn't reciprocate.

Beef Babys wasn’t a breakfast place, so hardly anyone besides employees was around. A few guys sat in the corner nursing sodas and pretending not to stare at girls when they walked by.

“Rick is in his office. If you can wait a few minutes,” Paula said.

“Sure, yeah,” I replied, adjusting the tie I’d knotted too tight around my neck.

I took a seat at a table that wobbled every time I breathed too hard. The surface was sticky—probably grease and ketchup, possibly something worse. I tried not to touch anything I didn’t have to. My dad's suit wasn't anything special, but I didn’t want it getting dirty before I spoke with the manager.

My father was a hardass, but he never made me get a job. Maybe he thought I was too stupid to keep one. Regardless, I tried to emulate what I thought he’d be like in my situation—charismatic, optimistic, direct. Dad was always that way at the car dealership, but never at home. 

He’d stopped calling me. 

My dad—he gave up, just like I knew he would. What surprised me more was the silence from everyone else. My brothers hadn’t called since they went off to school. Not even my friends from high school texted. Didn't they care, or had I distanced myself too far for them to remember me?

Being away from Nick made it easy to remember how alone we were. I missed him, but I had to reassure myself if I wanted to make it through an interview.

“So why do you want to join the Beef Babys family?” Rick, the manager, asked as he came to sit across from me.

He looked like he’d been deep-fried himself—late forties, built like a lineman, with a sweat-stained polo and a glare that could curdle milk.

“This is one of the fastest-growing food chains anywhere, and I want to be a part of it,” I said.

“But why?” Rick asked.

BB hadn't been around for more than a couple of years, so the state of its building was something between tragic and ungodly. How was it such a mess? No one in their right mind would want to work there. I tried to think of a clever response but went with something generic: “To serve customers and make people happy.”

It wasn’t in my nature to bullshit so hard, but I had to—for Nick and me.

“Come on, kid, let’s get real,” Rick said, finally giving me a grin.

His teeth were yellow and chipped. If he wanted honesty, I was willing to shift gears.

“Okay... I need to make money so I can take care of my...” I stumbled before I could say Nick’s name.

“Your what?” Rick asked.

I was too stupid to think of a workaround.

“My partner,” I said.

I might as well have said “boyfriend.”

He didn’t ask any other questions. Rick started going through a bunch of paperwork he’d brought with him to the table. Some of which clung to the surface.

“No drugs and no drinking on the job. You’ll be cooking Monday, Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday. Might call you in for more,” he said without looking at me.

It took me a moment to process.

“Wait, so I have the job?”