Frank attempted to look contrite as he stuck the scalded part of his hand into his mouth. He moved to run it under cold water, switching to Italian as he resumed muttering and cussing.
"Just because I don't understand it doesn't mean I don't know what cussing sounds like," the overly religious barista complained.
Frank just rolled his ees and turned the water off. It wasn't hte worst he'd ever done to himself, and it certainly beat grease burns, but it still fucking hurt. He found the first aid kit and carefully applied Neosporin and a bandiad. He'd take care of it more when he got home, where he had better stuff. Toro might have made fun of him for it but he could probaby do open heart surgery with his first aid kit. Well... sort of.
Working at the coffee shop had just kind of happened - he liked it for the most part, and it was a job. It could be worse - he could be locked in an office all day like Toro was, or without any kind of job other than the band, like Alex seemed to be. Then again, he kind of fucking admired Alex for just quitting (nevermind the crippling fear of needles) Skin Deep to focus entirely on the band. Frank kind of wanted to do that too, and he thought of the conversation he'd had with Wani. He really did want the Killjoys to work. Fuck, he'd moved from New Jersey just so they were all in the same place, so they could keep making music. Toro had too - they'd followed the Black brothers here as soon as Alex said the word 'Killjoys' into the phone one night. He loved this band, he fucking loved being on stage and just tearing it up every time they played.
Hell, they were even getting regular gigs now, and Theo said they would have a regular spot at Betwixt and Between on Saturday nights. They'd started recording another album. Well... maybe the first one didn't count, since at the time it'd been him, Alex, and three other guys in a band up in New Jersey while Alex was still in art school. He was kind of hoping to get an interview at Geller's place, actually. Never actually met the guy - he'd applied there with some dude named Steven. He figured since they hadn't called him to say 'no thanks' then maybe he'd still get a call in for an interview. Or they were just dickwads that didn't call people they decided not to hire. Whatever.
"Hey, I'm gonna take a break."
"You're not gonna try to get worker's comp, are you?"
"... fuck you, dude. I just want a cigarette."
Frank figured getting scalded was just part of the job - he'd been burned, cut, scalded and whatever else in all his time working in kitchens and even as a server. If he hadn't bitched about it then, he wasn't going to bitch about it now. He headed out back and winced when he heard the door shut. Fuck. It locked from the inside so he'd have to go around front again to get back in. Whatever, he'd deal. He managed to light a cigarette without catching any part of him on fire and checked his phone. Text from Alex, missed call from Theo, missed call from his mom. Frank wrinkled his nose at that last one - she fucking hated that he'd moved this far away, but it wasn't like they never talked to each other. He always told her she should have had more kids. He decided to be productive and went with the lesser of two evil.
"Hey Theo, what's up man? Do you like... never leave messages?"
"I figure if you see you had a missed call you'll probably call me back just to figure out what I wanted. It worked, so yeah. I never leave messages. Uh, look about movie night--"
"If you tell me you have a girlfriend or boyfriend or something I'm going to call you a liar, so don't even try, Dungeon Master."
"Whatever dude, it's not my fucking fault your characters keep dying. If the DM asks 'are you sure?' you should probably think a little harder about what you're doing... Anyway, no, that's not it. I'm not sure Alex is gonna make it, that's all. Uhm. Some stuff is going down."
"Rat stuff?"
"Yeah, sure. Rat stuff."
"Okay. Uhm, he's okay, right?" They'd been friends for a long time, and Alex was all kinds of fucked up but none of them ever knew what to do about it other than to try and snap him out of it. That never worked for long.
"Yeah, I think so. He will be." Theo's voice sounded really hesitant and Frank frowned, flicking the ash off his cigarette. "Yeah," Theo said agian, like he was trying to make himself believe. "Yeah, he'll be good."
"Okay man. But you're coming, right?"
"Yeah, definitely."
"Cool. Bring fucking food this time, I'm tired of shopping for you motherfuckers and you probably make more money than I do anyway."
"Whatever, you always bitch about the food I bring."
"Canned cheese is not a fucking food. It's an insult to silly string at best."
"Whatever. I'll see you later."
"Ciao."
"Dude. What? Why would you even say that? It's not like you're from Italy, you're Italian. There's a difference."
Frank just rolled his eyes and played up a really heavy Italian accent. "Voglio fare impazzire, l'amore appassionato a tua madre. Vaffanculo!"
"What? Frank what did you just say about my mom--"
"Ciao!" Frank cackled and ended the call, then put his phone back in his pocket. He'd get back to fruppacinos and corporate nonsense in a minute. Right now he had to think of what the hell they were going to watch tonight - it was his turn to pick.
