After everyone read the warning, the girls joined in on the ever-present silence. The enemy that they had to possibly face were the only ones talking and they wanted to be.

They couldn’t just spring into action, nor communicate out aloud. They’re possible siVictims that know what they’re doing, that could be the ones listening in on not just them—but everyone.

Jackie was scrambling in her mind, trying to figure out a non-verbal way to tell them to listen in on the table ways away from them.

Ultimately, she noticeably played with her hair near her ear, then quickly tugged on her lobe. She settled her hands back down, hoping the others got it.

Luckily, the others slowly did the same signal, of course in their own separate ways.

Jackie expanded her ear, cupping it to both focus her hearing and covering her enhanced ear. She tuned in, to get a gauge of the potential threats.

“THE SONG IS TOTALLY ABOUT A THREESOME—POSSIBLY FOURSOME!” an Australian accent rang out.

“It literally does not matter, Bentley,” a tired-sounding, eternally fed up voice replied.

“Hey, it doesn’t matter if it matters, I just want you lot to agree with me--!”

“If I ever start agreeing with you, then I’m doubling down on the worse mistake of my life: being friends with you—”

Jackie quickly made a dumbfounded expression. And without warning or clearance with her group or even herself, she turned towards the booth and enhanced her vision.

There, she saw it all. The looming, dominating threat posed on this diner… Were a bunch of dudes shooting the shit.

The Australian boy was a dandy, donned with jean-textured everything: pants, his jacket, and parts of his shoes. The jacket was popped open, a yellow shirt with faded in text beaming obnoxiously. His hair, neck-length and a dark brown, was as flamboyant as he was. Just screamed “playboy and proud”. What really was odd about him, was that he carried a baseball bat with him. Pale, worn, and yet he banged the tip of it on the floor to argue his “point”…

“Because here’s the thing—” ‘Bentley’ continued.

“Oh god, you’re still going--?” the hooded “friend” turned to him. Jackie couldn’t make out the eyes, only that he or they had a very slim face, and was tan. They wore a light-gray hoodie that had various black and pastel markings across it, in-jokes and references in both English and a language Jackie gathered could be either French, Italian, or Spanish.

“SHUT IT, GENT-” Bentley shouted, in that hazy direct or playful friendship anger. “C’mon, the rest of you lads must have an opinion! Something!”

“I have no comment or no real opinion,” said the biggest one of the table, in an equally trembling voice. From the angle Jackie has, she could only see the man’s back—lengthy cornrows with zig-zags of exposed skin, wearing a black dress shirt with shorter sleeves, and as he took a drink, very broad arms.

“…Lads, be real with me—do you realize that the banter just stops as banter—versus actual pisstaking?”

“Sure,” the man shrugs. “But it’s fun to do it to you.”

“Chimney?” “Gent” asked. “I’m glad that we’re friends.”

Chimney chuckled, and continued drinking his drink.

“There’s so many jokes I could make right now and I’d be well in my right…” Bentley overdramatically mumbled.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“And I have the right to kick your ass if any of them suck more than usual,” “Gent” smirked at him.

Bentley smirked back, then turned his gaze to the right of him. “You know the song we’re talking about, right Harv?”

“Don’t fucking drag Harvey into this mess—” “Gent” said. “And again, just you—”

Jackie wished that she had more coverage, damning herself as she blinked out the odd shine from the window hitting her eye.

Then, just like a lightbulb, the idea flickered.

Carefully, she directed her gaze to the window—focusing on the reflection the guys had from their booth. It surprised Jackie that while of course lacking most color and not stable, but how high-def their reflections were due to her eye’s focus.

It was clear that poor Harvey shouldn’t be there.

Not quite a hostage, as Jackie took notice to see if there were any outward signs. But his body language, from playing and scooting with his hat on the table, to looking down, it was clear that the boy was a wallflower. His combed up, dirty blond hair reflected the shine from outside.

“Y’know what?” Chimney proclaimed, Jackie getting a glance of his relaxed and chiseled face. “Let Bentley say his piece, Gently. Then we’ll have something to heckle him over.”

“Cheers!” Bentley shouted. He brought up his bat, putting it against his leg that was propped up on the table. “Here’s the thing… Song’s about, y’know, a night out. The two guys who sing it, are singing about inviting the ladies over. You eventually hear a lady singing in the background and like, they’re scatting and harmonizing—but then during that, she asks the original singer to go FASTER. The bloke admits that he can’t and fucking invites a rapper into the mix! THAT’S LITERALLY TAKING OVER! Case made, boys!”

“And you wonder why you’ve been in such a dry spell lately,” Gently remark. “You literally did your crazy-man shit way too much at the point that it’s done actual brain damage: girls run from guys that obsess over fucking song duets, Bent—”

“I’m just marveling in genius and wanted to break it down,” Bentley smirked boyishly. “Be the prophet and what not. I can’t help that I’m on a higher plane than you all—”

“You’re on some fucking flight, alright,” Gently sniped back. He tried to stifle a laugh, but continued on anyways, “Whatever drugs you tried to fit up your ass on that third-rate plane, it didn’t work out for you—And it’s the weirdest high you’ve ever had!”

Chimney started chuckling, facepalming as Gently started to crumple instantly. Harvey just covered his mouth, closing his eyes in mirth.

Bentley himself laughed uproarishly, banging the bat against the table. They all laughed for what felt like ten minutes, and Bentley wiped his eyes.

“But hey, I found a new way to do it in that scenario—so who’s really a loser here--?”

The laughter sparked again, it echoing across the diner, the only positive thing radiating in there.

Jackie instantly returned her attention back to her table, just staring at the girls with the same confused and vacant face they were making.

Sans Maddie. She was cracking up as well.

“…Have you hurt yourself with bitterness so much that you’ve lowered yourself into laughing at that filth, Madison-?” Jackie jokingly asked, but also meant it.

“Aaaah,” Maddie exhaled for air. “He’s such a fucking loser, it’s great…”

“Okay, good, we’re all in agreement with that—” Jackie felt reassured. “I can’t… Picture them with powerful abilities. Maybe they just got theirs too, just leveraging an empty gun?”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” River shook her finger.

“Ha!” Aiko remarked. “Other Mom instantly says no—”

“One… Aiko, no, I’m your older sister that you barely talk to anymore after college crushed her dreams,” River retorted. “And two, even if it is shit—it can GET us into a lot of shit. We still have to be cautious…”

“Of course! But… They’re a group of boys that never got the memo that high school’s been closed for two years. I can’t exactly picture them a threat. You’re still right. We still have to be on our guard.”

“…We’re getting involved?” Maddie groaned.

“Hey, it could be as simple as just talking,” Jackie shrugged, getting up. “But I prefer my meals without a ticking bomb under the table. Especially one that tells literally shitty jokes…”

Jackie walked over to the booth, where the boys were still amidst talking.

“Real talk?” Bentley began. “We gotta stop calling it ‘dry spells’. That shit does way too much mental damage. You can’t just like—force all women to act like rain or weather, they’re literally all over like the ocean. Crashing waves against the shores naturally, without you…”

He and the rest of the boys looked up, seeing six girls walking to them and standing before them.

And in that moment, he completely stops his train of thought, and instantly looked towards Gently as his head rolled at him, to say “I told you so”.

“Ladies, ladies, ladies, ladies…” Bentley started, looking at each girl with the same adoring stare. “Ladies of different walks and styles… What made you grace me with your presence and patience?”

“If you’re really or remotely interested?” Gently added. “Don’t. Seriously, he’s massively dumb. Look at him.”

Bentley only smirked and winked.

Jackie chuckled as she folded her arms, “I have to admit, I like how shamelessly flaunting you are… I just… I have a complaint. Are the powers really necessary in that?”