We’re already a few hours into the day, and Dani is still pouring on the charm. They’re a master at this; dazzling smile, perfect vocal tone—just pleasant enough without being condescending or irritating.

For most people, at least.

“Serenity. Mondo. No Carb.” The VIP speaks in clipped phrases, hardly looking at us.

Dani turns to inspect the shelves on the back wall and grimaces slightly, baring teeth. Then, they turn back with the most plastic smile I have ever seen on a human being before. “I’m awfully sorry, Madam; Emotiv doesn’t currently produce zero-carb Serenity.”

The woman raises a perfectly plucked brow and purses her bright red lips. “Really? I wonder what your manager will say to that.”

Dani nods. “Right away, Madam. FRANK!”

Our manager lumbers into the serving area, rubbing his face like he’s been sleeping. His loose cotton shirt is untucked at the back of his trousers, and his eyes are red and swollen. If he looked exhausted when he came in at opening time, he seems even worse now.

Frank assesses the scene; I’m standing at the back of the serving space, trying to make myself small and keep out of trouble. Dani is waiting, one hand on their hip, the other gesturing to the VIP waiting at the counter.

She’s tall—imposingly so when you factor the stiletto heels into the equation. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a worker dress so sternly, but this look is seemingly the fashion for VIPs right now. She could have crawled out of a vintage magazine from a bygone era; one filled with shoulder pads, pencil skirts, and manmade materials—lurex, vinyl and viscose.

Nothing like how normal human beings dress—cotton, hemp, linen. Pale greys, whites, and creams. She’s all in black, with those garish red lips highlighting every sneer.

The VIP waves a dismissive hand in Dani’s direction. “Your girl here—” I’m shocked that she misgenders Dani when they’re clearly wearing a nonbinary bracelet, “—says you don’t stock Serenity in zero-carb.”

“Dani is correct, Madam.” Frank doesn’t fight with her—we all know our places in this room—but I admire how he still stands up for Dani without starting an all-out brawl.

“Well, I suggest you do something!” she continues. I imagine her face flushing with anger, but it’s impossible to see under inches of precisely applied makeup.

“Of course, Madam. I shall contact head office and request that they develop a zero-carb variety, just for you. In the meantime—” he shoots Dani a look, and they nod, reaching past me for a small glass, “please allow us to give you a sample of our newest drink on the house.”

Her eyebrow arches even further, but he’s caught her attention. She tilts her head. “New?”

I watch Dani’s movements, remembering I’m meant to be shadowing them. They indicate the glass, staying silent to allow Frank and the VIP to talk, and point to a bottle.

Understanding.

I bite my lip to suppress a giggle.

Dani pours a double shot into the glass—fuchsia, bubbling like soda water—and hands it to Frank.

“What’s this?” the VIP glares down her nose at the glass.

“This is a new variety, Tranquility, very close to Serenity, but a little less sharp, easier on the palate.” Frank gestures emphatically, a connoisseur of all things Emotiv.

Seemingly entranced by his sales pitch, the VIP takes a sip. Her eyes light up instantly—the lines between her brows smooth out, and now she’s less stern, more… motherly. I’m stunned at the difference.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” she smiles at Dani, “I’m sorry, dear. Of course, I understand you don’t have any control over stocking issues.”

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Dani grins, but I notice it’s all teeth—she’s still wearing her plastic smile. She kicks me under the counter, and I turn my attention to the VIP, grinning in the same manic way. I imagine we’re all thinking the exact same thing.

Please don’t call the Wardens.

“Well, this will do nicely, I think.” The VIP taps her bracelet on the countertop, and the checkout system beeps to confirm her payment.

“It was a free sample, Madam,” Frank says.

She waves her hand, “Psht! I can afford it, really. Have a good day, all of you.”

We all heave a sigh of relief as she walks out of the door.

“Note, young lady,” Frank raises a finger to me, “if I ever catch you slipping emotions to clients without my saying so, I will sack you. It’s a risk—a big risk. Only for extreme circumstances.”

I nod. “So she was extreme?”

He shrugs. “She could have gone that way, yeah. These VIPs think they rule the damn world.”

“They do rule the world, Frank,” Dani laughs, wiping the countertop.

Frank grunts and wanders into the back room again. I pick up the half-used supplies behind the counter, cleaning them and making myself useful.

“Dani, do you think this could have gone bad?”

Dani leans over the counter and murmurs in a conspiratorial way. “It can always go bad, Kyla. Be on your guard.”

I try to hide my nervous gulp. The VIP class controls Skycross; it’s always been that way. But I hadn’t thought about how much the VIPs—and their constant shifts in mood—could affect my daily life at work.

The door opens and our AI assistant, Meli, speaks over the tannoy. “Greetings, patron. You will be served by Dani today.”

Our customer approaches—in contrast to Miss VIP, he is bent double, leaning on an old hospital crutch which is broken at the bottom. His clothes are dirty and worn, and he hasn’t shaved in months, maybe years.

His eyes are a piercing icy blue. They have a sad look to them—the wrinkles at the corners, caked with dirt, turn downward like he’s spent too much of his life frowning.

He isn’t wearing a bracelet. My skin tingles as I stand to attention. I’m not sure what to do—I know an Abandoned when I see one, but for him to walk in like we’re actually going to serve him... I can’t decide if he’s brave or stupid.

No bracelet, no credits, no service.

I need to watch closely; Dani will have to get this man out. In the back of my brain, my dose of Focus reminds me that one day, I might have to do the same, so I should pay attention.

Dani stands at the counter, waiting with a smile on their face. The man shuffles to the counter and leans on it. I grimace, wondering whether his dirty arms will leave a mark for me to clean. Dani leans in, so their faces are almost touching, and whispers something in his ear. He nods, his face lighting up with an eager grin.

Turning around to face me, Dani holds up a finger to their lips. What the hell are they doing? They get a paper cup and fill it with water, swirling it around to clear the chemical taste from our steriliser. Then, they lean down to the bottom shelf and pour a double shot from the bottle labelled ‘Blessed’.

I open my mouth, then close it again, but I let out a tiny squeak. Dani just told me—No bracelet, no credits, no service!

I’m worried Frank will come in and catch them. What if I get blamed too? I like Dani well enough for someone I’ve just met, but I don’t want to be dragged away by Wardens for them.

They hand the cup to the man, who clutches it close to his chest, and signs quickly to Dani, “Thank you so much.”

Dani signs back, “Blessings to you and yours,” and waves him out.

He scurries away, and Meli again says, “thank you for your patronage.”

“Dani!” Frank calls from the back. “Who was that?”

“No one, Frank. I think Meli’s on the fritz again.” Dani shoots me a warning look, shaking their head.

My stomach sinks. So now I’m Dani’s accomplice. Wonderful first day, Kyla, great job. Would you like to dispose of a body now?

Reaching for my writing pad in my back pocket, I hastily scribble a note and shove it under their nose.

I will not go to Reform for you.

Dani rolls their eyes and reaches for my pen. I practically throw it at them, and they write a reply, tutting under their breath.

Calm down. You didn’t do anything.

My pulse pounds in my ears until I think I might pass out. I lean back on the counter, taking slow, calming breaths. The Focus I drank earlier allows me to visualise the source of my discomfort and shrink it. Now it’s a smaller black ball in the pit of my stomach—smaller, but still there.

“Kyla, are you okay?” Dani moves in close, putting a hand on my shoulder, and leans in to whisper. “Chill. Please. They need this more than the VIPs do, don’t you think?”

I shake my head, constantly checking Frank’s door to ensure we’re alone. I remember the seminars they held at school about The Abandoned. It’s too risky to help them; we don’t know what they could do, whether their sickness could infect us; they have to be kept separated. Out of sight, out of public spaces. It was the only way to keep us all safe.

Dani pats my shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Pretend you didn’t see anything. If not for me, then for him.” They give a sad smile and carry on restocking the supplies.

The man’s eyes are burned into my memory—icy blue, wrinkled, and sad. As my dose of Focus continues its work, the man’s eyes turn hazel, like my own, and the wrinkles fade. The sad expression isn’t on his face anymore, but on mine—and I’m walking in a dark alley, holding onto a broken crutch with dirty, worn clothing dangling from my skinny limbs.

“Kyla!” Dani snaps their fingers in front of my face. I open my eyes and see a customer approaching outside the shop window.

Meli beeps to life. “Greetings, patron. You will be served by Dani today.”