Don’t Mind If I Do (the first page)
The beginning guitar riff courtesy of Brian May in “I Want To Break Free” blasted through the Walkman of a 30 year old Cal Jones; the year is 1986. Girls wore accentuated shoulder pads, had perms, and jazzercise was definitely all the rage. His fiery hair was brushed back into a messy mullet and his aviators glinted in the sun as he roller skated to work. The pavement grew hotter by the second as the temperature continued to rise on the hottest day of the year in New York City. Cal, on the other hand, continued to skate as if he were in an air conditioned rink. His white tank top, a little too short in length, clung to his body, wet with sweat. He also wore worn, high-waisted jeans that made him look even taller than he already was. This was Cal Jones’s usual summer attire, and goddamn he looked fantastic. And he knew it. Of course he did.
The faded forest green backpack on Cal’s back seemed to be weightless as he zoomed through the streets of New York. His sweaty-- muscular-- freckled arms swayed with his movements and his fingers absentmindedly played along to the current Queen song playing through his headphones. His fingers sifted through the warm air as if it were his own personal instrument. Cal’s easy smile widened as he reached his destination. The Monarch was an old diner owned by two best friends who practically adopted Cal when they found him roaming, homeless, at the age of 18. The diner was beautiful and brilliant during the day, but during the night, this “family-friendly” diner became a hotspot for queer youth. Alcoholic drinks were offered, but this homey diner wasn’t a bar, it was just a place where you could be yourself and no one would care. That was his favorite thing about his diner. Of course, it wasn’t his, it belonged to a short, balding man from Brooklyn named Jonny who made a killer hamburger. His best friend, and resident queer people magnet, was Lise Jackson. A beautiful, old, black woman who helped Cal learn that he didn’t have to let his anger define him.
The front door jingled as Cal was welcomed by a half packed diner and Lise taking order after order at the silver and white counter. He took off his aviators with a confident motion, pausing in the entrance as his smile widened to a smirk due to the music sounding through the diner’s jukebox.
“‘Crazy Little Thing Called Love,’ Lise? You finally listened to me and widened our music selection?” Cal said as he sauntered behind the counter.
“Only because you wouldn’t shut up about how good Freddie Mercury sounded in this song.” She smirked back. “Go settle down and help me out here?”
“Sure thing.” He pecked her on the cheek before entering through the kitchen doors and laughing at the sight in front of him. “Hey, guys.”
“Kid!” Jonny exclaimed, clearly overjoyed at the sight of someone who knew what they were doing. “Please, help me deal with this impossible woman.”
“That is rude, Boss.” The girl covered in flour next to Jonny responded. Despite having worked here for over two years, and being told “no” thousands of times, Maryja has tried to convince Jonny to let her help with the baking. Maryja came to their diner one early morning asking for any available job that they had; she convinced them by working a full day for free to show how good of a worker she was. Jonny had been hesitant to hire her because of her mysterious accent, which she denied having (despite having a very thick one), but in the end Lise had convinced him to give her a shot. Cal took her under his wing and they have been inseparable since. They also live together in a small studio apartment with Cal’s dog that he rescued from the streets before a huge storm hit; his name is Diggy, a massive mutt that has unproportionally tiny feet.
“Chocolate cake?” Cal asked as he looked at the ingredients splayed in front of his friend.
