Quarter Life Crisis

“So how’s your girlfriend?” Vic asked me one day while at work. I was washing dishes at the time and it caught me way off guard.
“My girlfriend?” I asked, momentarily forgetting that I had told him that. “Oh, right, my girlfriend … yeah, she’s alright.”
I mentally slapped myself. This could have been the perfect opportunity for me to tell him that we had broken up or something, but no. This lie was just going to slowly start to snowball.
“You don’t sound very sure of yourself,” he noted, leaning against the counter. I sighed outwardly as I dropped the tray I had been washing back into the sink.
“Vic, leave that boy alone,” Rita snapped from across the room near the ovens. Rita was one of the other employees at the shop- an older woman with her hair dyed a fake-looking dark red color. The color of her hair bothered me sometimes, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her it looked terrible.
“Oh, I’m sorry, let me just go wait on all of the customers that are out there. Oh, wait, there are none,” he muttered bitterly.
“Why don’t we see more customers?” I asked, genuinely confused. I had already tried the sandwiches and they were really good. We- well, Rita- made the bread from scratch and most of the ingredients were fresh.
“Because they’re all afraid of-“ Rita started to say, but then stopped herself when Vic shot her a menacing glare. “They just don’t know good food is all.”
I glanced over at Vic who had his arms crossed as he stared at the ground. By this time, I had been working for him every day for a week. I didn’t get many days off, but that was because he really only had four employees- me, Rita, this high school guy named Jack, and his sister, Allie. I had yet to meet Allie or Jack, though, because they were on some sort of family vacation that week.
Anyway, in this entire week with him, I really only knew two things about him: He lived in an apartment above the shop and he was twenty four years old. Other than that, I was still getting used to his personality and all that. Speaking of personality, it was really hard to gauge the kind of person he was- he was incredibly sarcastic and had a sense of humor, yet at the same time could be bitter and up-tight.
I remembered what Zoe had told me about him- that he was a psychopath and that he was probably gay. I hadn’t heard him discuss either of those things, so I wasn’t sure how valid they were. What did she mean by psychopath, anyway? Surely that was just an exaggeration.
I ultimately decided it didn’t matter, because Zoe never really knew him anyway.
“So, Kellin, where are you from?” He suddenly asked, turning the conversation back to me.
“What?”
“You don’t seem like you’re from around here,” he shrugged, “Let’s talk about you- what’s your story?”
“Um … I was going to school at NYU … “ I muttered.
“Was?” Rita chimed in. “You graduated?”
“I wish,” I sighed. “No, I dropped out.”
“Oh, no, don’t get me started on college, boy,” she said, shaking her head. “I dropped out of college and look where I am now- in my forties and working in the kitchen at a sub shop. You should be getting your degree and being successful- that’s what I keep telling Vic over here, but he doesn’t listen to anyone.”
“You dropped out too?” asked him, slightly relieved that I could share my mediocrity with someone.
“No, I never went,” he muttered darkly. “But, we’re talking about Kellin here, not me- so where are you from?”
“I’m from Oregon,” I finally said.
“That’s … interesting,” he said, though we both knew it wasn’t. “How long has it been since you’ve dropped out?”
“A couple of weeks?” I shrugged, as Rita made a ‘tsk’ noise and shook her head while she went back to the bread.
“Damn. What was your major?” he asked.
“Music,” I said, then immediately felt embarrassed.
“Huh … were you any good? What do you play?”
“I guess I sing.”
“Sing for me,” he said, clapping his hands together. I rolled my eyes and went back to washing that stupid tray.
“No way,” I said.
“Kellin, I’m your manager, I want you to do what I tell you to,” he said, firmly. I sighed.
“You’re joking, right? I don’t want to sing,” I said, feeling embarrassed.
“Yes, you obviously like singing if you wanted to major in it- now sing … the first thing that comes to your mind.”
I caved and closed my eyes, and started singing the song that was in my head at the moment, which happened to be “A Whole New World” from Aladdin.
I stopped halfway through the chorus, when I realized Vic was smirking at me.
“What?” I snapped, feeling embarrassed.
“Nothing, you’re good, It just gave me an idea,” he said, getting this look in his eyes, as he paced in front of me. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be turned on by that look, or utterly terrified of it.
“Um, what is it?” I asked.
“We should have karaoke night or something- it might attract some more customers, especially if we have someone working here that can join in,” he said, raising his pierced eyebrow contently. I sighed so I didn’t sound too eager; I couldn’t deny the fact that I enjoyed the attention that came with performing for people, even if it was just karaoke.
“No one’s gonna want to come to a karaoke night at a run-down sub shop where the previous owner-“
“Rita, stop,” Vic hissed. I was taken aback by his reaction, because whatever Rita was about to say really upset him.
“Well, don’t you think he’ll end up finding out anyway? Hell, he could walk outside and ask someone on the sidewalk what happened two years ago, and they’ll tell you,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air.
“What happened?” I asked, dying to know what they were talking about.
“You don’t need to know,” Vic said. We both looked up when we heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. “We have a customer. Go take care of them, Kellin.”
Feeling awkward amidst the sudden tension in the room, I shuffled across the kitchen to greet the person at the counter.
“Hey, Zo,” I said when I got home that night. I was eager to ask her something about Vic … but then I noticed she was sprawled on the couch with Alfie, so my chances of having any real conversation was shot. “Oh … hey Alfie.”
“Hey, fruit cake,” he said, then chuckled wildly to himself as if it were funny. I moaned and trudged into the kitchen as I listened to Zoe whine to him about not making fun of me.
“Baby, don’t be mean to Kellin, he’s my friend,” she said, pouting.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “I still don’t like it that he’s living with you.”
“Why?” she demanded to know.
“Because I don’t like the idea of my girl living with another man, even if he’s a fag,” he said, defensively.
I winced at his use of the word, because I couldn’t stand it. You’d think I’d be used to all the slurs and cruel nicknames by now, but to be honest, they still stung.
“Alfie, stop,” she said.
“Whatever, I gotta go anyway,” he said, standing up and heading for the door. Zoe got up and followed him to the door to kiss him good bye or whatever. I didn’t look for fear of it triggering my gag reflex.
“I hate him,” I said, as soon as he was out.
“I know,” she sighed. “I’m sorry you guys don’t get along.”
“He doesn’t get along with anyone though,” I sighed. “Whatever, forget about Alfie, I have to ask you something about Vic.”
“What about him?” she sighed, meeting me in the kitchen.
“Do you know what terrible thing happened at the Sub Shop two years ago?” I asked. The question practically exploded out of me, as I had been waiting all day to ask it.
“Um, I’m not sure, why?” she asked.
“Apparently something happened that made people not want to eat there anymore. One of the ladies I work with was saying something about it, but Vic told her not to talk about it. It sounded serious.” I said.
“I’m sorry, Kells, I’m just not sure. I don’t remember anything happening. To be honest, I never really went there anyway- I never liked it much,” she explained. “The last time I was there was in high school.”
I sighed, realizing the only way to find out was to just get on Vic’s good side … if he had one.

Notes