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Pomni always has a knack for noticing the little things.
A skill arguably valuable for her kind of occupation, to catch wind of things and situations quickly enough to defuse; well like those times when Ragatha's flowery skirts tangled themselves on those fences and she noticed before she could panic for it.
But it wasn't just physical mishaps, if she trusted her ability enough—it was the changes in expression, action, and the stuff underlying regular conversation, especially if people she cared about conveyed their feelings in actions more than words.
Someone, ironically, like Jax.
Pomni's worked alongside him for what she believed to be nearly months after her subsequent hire into Caineworld, and they'd been rather rocky at first at the terms of being acquaintances but had gotten over that quick enough. It was after that rough patch of things did she realize having him around for company was surprisingly exhilarating and peaceful at the same time.
One, she's still making sure her hat doesn't get swiped off her head—a prank pulled numerous times, especially if it's a tease that she's "bald, short-stuff"—and two, she does get a lot of swiped soda in return.
…Speaking of the soda, actually.
Jax is the kind of person to never let his slushie cup out of his hand. Every passing moment, every ten or five of free time, his hand would always be wrapped around some kind of soft drink, so much so she's able to pick out little details of when and how long; beads of condensation sliding down in rivulets if he was just off the clock or the cup tinged with moist edges if it had been hours taking painfully slow sips. She can honestly believe half of the snack shack's payments came solely from his boredom at this point.
But another interesting thing about the lagomorph is that he's weirdly meticulous about the soda cups, too. He never purchases paper straws, grumbles about getting them the first chance he gets, and avoids the snack shacks that had reformed by executive decision to start going plastic-free. He never crushed his cups; he always kept the shapes intact. Pomni wonders if that's an attribute of his distaste towards certain substance and sounds (and maybe some unchecked sensory issues there too), coming down to toss his cups as intact as they were.
Point was, Pomni thought she had known all the inside-outs of his weird soft drink obsession.
Except, a lot of time spent with Jax meant she'd always note the little things.
And curiously so—for some new reason she's not aware of—in recent times, his stray and nonchalantly tossed cups of his is left bent or broken. Crushed from the waist, marks of soda rivulets sogging the sides of the cup.
She thought Jax never handled his cups that way. What brought about the change?
And damn curiosity killing the cat, she wants to know why.
Working noon hours at Caineworld provided for a very sweaty shift, but a much quieter environment.
Pomni walks through the lanes down Caineworld's zoo, desperately trying to hunt down Ragatha after she'd been lost in the crowd of screeching children during the park's busiest hours. Most families and their accomplices tended to crowd around the zoo and the indoor facilities during the sun's hot hours, so she can only hope Ragatha had found her way there.
Pomni's wipes the sweat off her brow, and nearly jumps when she feels a light tap on her shoulder.
"Sleepwalking to the zoo?" She gets a faceful of Jax, hunching over her and blocking the scorching sun near perfectly with his round head. Beads of light reflect off his new, intact soda cup. His smirk falls a little. "Aren't you supposed to be with Dollface right now?"
Pomni gives him a one-ha laugh, dragging a fist into her eyes in vain to stop the purple-green spots obscuring her vision. "I was. I lost track of her, though, think she's in there?"
"She is, actually," he confirms, a throwaway glance to the red lanes marking the animal enclosures with tired eyes. "Got dragged over there by overenthusiastic parents." He shudders. "Shrieks like a murder event in there."
She rolls her eyes, catching how conversation seems much short-lived than usual. He must really be tired. "And they wonder why you picked this job, of all things."
"Hey, the only one wondering is you, Pom." He moves with her, a quick sip of his beverage before tarrying on with her, matching her sluggish speed with a grin. "Have you seen what they did with the place? New stuff for the fall or somethin'."
"Nope, but I'm getting the feeling I'm not going to love it," she says quietly, brushing past floating Bubble-Bobbles kids spent hours crying over and caught Zooble out the corner of her eye near the ferris wheel.
The commotion grows louder as Pomni finally reaches the zoo gates, Jax coming just a bit closer as they walk underneath the beige canopies. The sun drags along midday shadows across the lines of people gathered around the enclosures of orangutans and baboons and monkeys. The children crowd around different creators and their respective zoo keepers.
Jax mutters under his breath, holding his soda high above his shoulder.
The crowd seems to be relatively dispersing, and Pomni catches a familiar candy gator reassuring the little kids with his multicolored parakeet. Gummigoo, she remembers, one of the newer members of the support staff, and if she recalls correctly, had sent in his application around the same time she did.
He notices her among the crowd and waves, Jax leaning down to scoff into her ear. "You're all buddy-buddy with outback steakhouse? When did that happen?"
"Not your business," she throws back at him, leaving to wade through the rest of the crowd to return the iron-weight handshake Gummigoo offers her. Some color returns to his eyes.
"Hey, sheila!" He gives her arm too tight shakes that nearly feel like ripping the appendage entirely, but she knows it comes from a good place. "I've seen ya around often," he says, snapping his fingers and looking up to the sky until it dawns on him. "Pomni, right miss?"
"Yeah," she assures, remembering only one interaction with him up till now, beaming a wide smile at the rest of the kids. "Gummigoo, huh? This place has blown up, hasn't it?"
"Ha, tell me about it! Mr. Caine made the call for these fellas for the fall." His bird chirps, eliciting a smile. "Made a huge hit with the little ones."
She can certainly see that, and she turns round on instinct, and Jax seems to be exactly where she left him, looking on with an unintelligible expression. Perhaps she was a bit too harsh with her exit.
"Would you like to hold the little feller?"
That snaps Pomni back. "Hold it? But I'm not one of the guests—"
"D'aw, worry nothing about that. I insist," he adds, watching her near decline, his parakeet hoping on his arm with a keen eye toward her, like its teaming with the gator with its beetle black eyes.
No thoughts run in her head long enough to stop her hand from coming close to the little thing. It's neck tilts to her hand, and it's feathers feel soft and light as her fingers glide down its head.
"His name's Roddy," he tells her, grinning.
A quiet hello Roddy slips out of her breath without realizing it, like a secret shared between her and the bird. One final glance at it before she comes back to her senses, looking up to Gummigoo. "I should probably be going now. Thank you."
"Anytime, miss!" He chuckles to himself, sending her off with a wave.
Pomni returns it, and finally addressing the lingering gaze from Jax she's been feeling throughout most of that interaction. He's not more than a few feet away, face conveniently hidden by his cup and hand, turned at an odd angle.
"I completely forgot about finding Ragatha!" she says, quickening her pace as she comes to him. A little bit of embarrassment comes to her. "I'm sorry I ditched you there."
"Yeah, yeah, you finally stopped yapping," he grumbles, eyes narrowing down on her as he takes on long suck of his straw. "It's like forty degrees out here, Pom. You really can't stick around that long."
She takes that in, darting hither-tither for a familiar rag-doll in case she'll need to search somewhere else. Without thinking, she loops her hand round his, dragging him off to a louder section of the zoo.
He stiffens for a moment, and she turns to see why before he completely overtakes her forward, head tilted away from her peripheral, not without catching irritated lines jutting around his brow.
But out of the corner of her eye, regardless; Jax drops his empty cup, and before it's squished by the restless crowd, it's crumpled, wrinkles wrapping exactly where its waist would be.
Is the cup thing what he does when he's tired?
Pomni follows Ragatha around the lanes, and while she probably should have basic manners and listen to her friend's anecdote, her mind wanders elsewhere, still trying to make sense of something that probably didn't matter at all.
"—so I told him I did have the recipe for lemon drizzle scones, but I'd need to find the sheet before I try," Ragatha continues, punctuation this with a flick of her arm.
Irritation? Jax gets annoyed a lot.
"Oh, also, Pomni." That gets her attention, Ragatha's sobered expression as she stops."Could I—well, confide in you for a minute?"
"Oh, sure." A nervous feeling already twists in her gut. "What's, uh, what's up?"
"It's not really—w-well, it's just a concern in the end, but," her voice drops down to a whisper, "I'm starting to think there's something weird going on with—"
"Finally!"
The cry has Ragatha's jaw snapping shut, and Pomni recognizes the voice before its owner had perched himself on the fence next to them, leaping over her frock and spinning the slushie cup in his hands. Must be new, she can hear the ice clattering inside.
"I've been looking for you for ages!" he says, scowling at Pomni, but it has no bite. "One moment you're here and the next not. You took my pen."
"You pen?" Pomni parrots, instinctively reaching down and unfolding her pockets. Sure, she did take his pens some odd days, but she has nothing to write, and her red and blue ballpoint was stick exactly where she'd hung it on her shirt. "I don't have yours."
Jax stares at her for a long moment before fishing into his own pocket with his free hand.
What he pulls out is, in fact, the pen, an unapologetic smile stretches across his face. "Ah, looks like I had it all along. My bad."
Skeptical, she brings her focus back on Ragatha. "Anyway, what were you saying?"
"Nothing!" She laughs, a bit too suddenly. "It's nothing, I assure you. Like I said, just a small concern! Not important."
Pomni see Ragatha's hand worriedly scratch the back of her neck and wonders if the drive to tell her had deflected when Jax arrived. Speaking of him, "Don't you have work to do, mister?"
"Nah, Kinger's taking it for now. Thought I'd keep a watch out for glass slippers at mid-noon, y'know."
He looks unbothered, but Ragatha swallows hard enough she can hear it. Pomni pays more attention to Jax's body language, seeming rather frazzled and breathless as he tosses a look over his shoulder.
"Were you running?"
"Yes and no, running away," Jax grumbles. "Those stupid cameras keep following me around for another shot and I'm in no mood for it."
Ragatha throws her hands in the air. "There's only so much we can take! Last time, they nearly knocked a kid down in their excitement." She cools down, but still looks weary. "I know they don't mean any harm, but they're really pushy at the wrong moments."
She hears that terrifying flash of cameras from her left, whether by cruel coincidence or the universe laughing at all three of them. Before Jax can slink away, Drawy blocks his path with a smile that looks more like a threat than reassurance.
Speak of the devils, and they shall appear.
"Wow, there you three are!" Orbsman adjusts the camera, wide and menacing. She feels more annoyed than perturbed, Drawy pushing it with Ragatha and Jax. "Yesterday's scene was absolutely perfect! Don't wanna push you around too much," great, as if that's exactly what they're not doing at the moment, "but golly, do you have more to say? The fans are curious! We all are!"
The other two react violently, Jax near pushing up his hoodie as he cuts eye contact. Drawy loses interest in their reactions, going to—oh no—Pomni.
"Hey, miss!" Please stop. Drawy starts droning on with questions and all she's thinking of is how to dodge them. The lights of the stupid camera are all too bright for her to handle right now, in her face and she has such a lack of energy her usual patience is wearing off fast enough to scowl.
"Come on, just a moment!" he insists.
Ragatha speaks slowly, "Hey, I don't think any of us are… in the right headspace for this sort of thing at the moment, could you please—"
"I'll talk to you later," Pomni blankly promises, but that's not enough.
An unrecognizable sound comes from Jax, and he moves forward, one hand blocking Pomni's eyes.
She's tempted to swat it away, but realizes quickly it's an aid.
"She said she'll talk later." She can't see his face, but something about the way he says it stirs up something in her chest. "So come later."
Orbsman flinches first, catching the tension in the air, but the camera doesn't come down.
"Oi! What's all the commotion here?"
Pomni recognizes the voice immediately, and by the looks of it, so must Jax, whirling round to Gummigoo sporting a confused frown and crossed arms. "Are they bothering you, miss?"
Harsh statement. It's technically their job to, but…
"Not really…?"
From his expression alone she can tell Gummigoo believed that statement as much as if she had said the sky was green.
"Alright, back up," he says, a hand on Orbsman with as much held-back fight as he could muster. "Let the little lady breathe. She said she doesn't want to."
The pair looks crestfallen, but seem to value intact parts enough to back away in time and turn back without a word. Gummigoo exhales, like he was tensing, turning around to meet Pomni.
"You better now?"
Frankly enough, she's surprised by his quick response, and she's grateful enough to offer a thumbs-up in response.
"Happy to help," he smiles, and he waits a second longer before going off to his own devices, away from the group.
What a weird day.
"That's… good, I guess!" Ragatha pulls her hair behind her head, fluffing up her skirt, but has a strange eye on Jax, and as Pomni turns, she's quick to realize why.
His hoods high over his head, back turned and walking back rather aggressively even when Ragatha's calling his name too quiet to reach his ears.
His hand flies over to the nearby recycle bin before he turns the corner, dumping his half-empty slushie cup in.
Half-crushed.
"Huh," Ragatha wonders aloud. "That's a waste."
"Thanks for the mangoes, though," Pomni says, picking up a slice and plopping one in her mouth, savoring the flavor. "You didn't have to get me lunch."
"Ah, don't mention it." Gummigoo lifts the short umbrella canopy, looking down at her fondly seated on the bench.
He'd invited her over near his hut during afternoon hours, and she'd accepted the offer gratefully—not just as a drive to get to know the others here but to find someone less plagued by cameramen and crew. The areas near the crew hadn't been as struck yet.
God, she should really stop imagining them as some sort of zombie apocalypse.
"Say, have you heard about the show happening at a place downtown, recently?"
"Huh? Oh," she shakes her head when nothing turns up, "I don't."
"Well, get to know now! Tickets're popping up, you can add one to take along with ya if you wish."
The idea of it sounds promising, and she makes a mental note for it. Maybe she can ask Ragatha.
"I'll keep that in mind."
She's aware of the minutes in her watch tick-ticking away, her time for her shift wearing off and her fork hitting empty plastic in the fruit box.
"I'll be heading out now."
"Awh, already?" He looks dejected by the prospect, packing up his own lunch.
"Yeah, gonna head home earlier today. But I can stop by later!"
That lifts his spirits, and a tinge of color returns to his candy face. "I'd like that a lot."
It feels good to see him happy, and Pomni tosses her tote over her shoulder. The walk back is a mix of sunset colors and autumn-wind breezes, and Pomni hugs her rather thin uniform closer, appreciating the silence of the quieter park in evening hours.
It's when she reaches the fluorescent lights of the arcade does she remember Jax had invited her in today. Pomni wonders how the day would have gone if she'd gone as usual, and she can't lie—it would certainly have been a comforting way to wrap her day up. All she knows now is that Jax and Kaufmo should have left ages ago, but from where she peers over the large gates and towards the rows and rows of staff parking, Kaufmo's pickup truck is long gone, and Jax's convertible is still nooked exactly where he left it.
Weird. Weird he's still her to begin with. Did he not leave the arcade?
Pomni takes a tentative step toward the arcade doors and swings it open. Obnoxiously loud background noises play from gamestations and ticket lottery machines, and she quickly remembers why the first step here is always the worst. Easy to get used to but the road there is exhausting.
She can only wonder how Jax doesn't have a sensory explosion in this place.
The purple-shaded aisles are deserted as she makes her way through; darker and quieter. The arcades ominous when it ends up like this, and momentary fear latches on her, like bad things would happen.
Unwarranted, honestly, how many times has it been here? She should know better than letting age-old mascot horror make harmless places seem haunted. Not every theme park has a vendetta against non-murderers.
It's this unnecessary guard of herself that almost lets her miss Jax's slumped figure against one of the old machines, propped against the wall with his eyes shut, empty slushie cup clutched in his hands. Wait—
"Jax!"
One moment she stands and the next she's diving to the floor and observing him closely.
For a scary second, she fears the worst happened.
Breath comes to him in slow rhythm, a soft snore tumbling out his chest.
He's only sleeping. She lets out a relieved breath. Then an embarrassed sigh. Panic put you in bad places.
"Jax?" she whispers softly, a hand on his knee as she scoots over to his side, peering over his fetal position. "You asleep?"
There's a beat before he shuffles, snoring ceasing and eyes still shut.
"Mhh," he says quietly, "nooo."
A small smile tugs at her lips, then a laugh. Pomni remembers him telling her weeks before of a rather awkward problem he had—sleep-talking. He must be in the midst of a dream now, and strangely enough, she finds that adorable.
"Really? You seem really tired right now. How was the games with Kaufmo?" She knows she could certainly ask this when he's awake, but don't blame her for being curious. How lucid was he now, really?
It takes a while for him to wade through nonsense words before responding. "Ehh… it was alright. Not as good though."
Oh?
"Not without Pomni."
The use of third person has her realizing he doesn’t know he's talking to her.
"It's not nice without m—Pomni?" she prompts, legitimately confused. Jax liked his bro time. And she's only been tagging along for about a month or two.
"Yeah," he drawls, completely and utterly out of it. "But now she's out with… Gummiguy or whatever his name is. I don't like it."
And that's weird, she's about to ask again when Jax shushes her—a low hiss under his breath, drawn out like he's drunk. "He keeps trying to impress her or whatever. Playing the hero. Ew."
Impress her? She's met Gummigoo for—okay, about three weeks now, but trying to grab her attention was a stretch. His name, right now? Doesn't make sense.
She catches it. That little thing. The little slushie cup tight in his right arm.
And him crushing it by its waist so tight she hears the still-solid ice crunch underneath.
Pomni almost misses what he says next.
"I wanna be her hero."
It feels like a train slapping into her face. A baseball bat or a bucket of freezing cold water. Or all of that, in how her cheeks immediately flush, feeling like more than seeing it.
"Okay, that's enough now!" she whisper-shouts, voice a frantic high. She coughs to get herself together, then twice, firmly shaking his shoulders. "Jax! Jax! Rise and shine, buddy!"
He startles immediately, nearly banging his forehead against hers as he wakes.
"What the heck?! Pomni?"
"Shush!" She resists an immediate hand to his mouth, too embarrassed to explain herself. "You were asleep! Why didn't you go home?"
He was crushing the cup.
Jax takes a minute to gather his bearings, caught between a scowl and a tired yawn as he jerks away from Pomni like he just recognized their close proximity. Oh, shit, now she does too. Near boxing him into the wall he's lying across. A beat passes.
They both shoot up and wipe imaginary dust off their clothes.
"How long were you here?" he asks.
"Not very long." Is that technically a lie? A white one, hurts none. Jax probably wouldn't want to know what she just heard.
I wanna be her h—
"Oh, good," he says, relaxing. He kicks his crumpled cup across the floor like he doesn't want her to see it. "Vague answer, Pomni. Like watching a guy sleep? 'S that something you're into?"
Now where the hell did that come from? "Was not, is not! I got worried when I saw your car outside. Did Kaufmo leave without you?"
"He didn't want to, but I insisted." His expression wears into something tired. "No reason to leave, anyway. Don't remember falling asleep."
Clearly. The arcade lights seem just a bit harsher, weariness overtaking her own senses, desperately wanting to rub the sleep out of her eyes.
"It's getting late."
He sighs. "I know."
"Did you have anything to eat?"
He saunters off his spot and walks towards the exit, and Pomni has to run to keep up with him. "Nah, not really. I'll whip up something at home."
"Jax, I haven't seen you eat anything at all today." She stops in her tracks. "It takes more than a hour to get to your place!"
"Yeah, so?" He blinks at her, uncomprehending, still in daze of sleep as he kicks open the door to the arcade and holds it open for her, though she doesn't walk through. The frigid breeze is colder than the air conditioning inside, and the sleepiness she feels doesn't help her stop shivering.
"So, you're going to be driving back on an empty stomach," she states, more than asking. Pushing this agenda makes it easier to not think about the other thing. "You can, y'know, get something to eat first?"
"Too lazy," he groans, hugging his crumpled sweatshirt to his elbows as the wind picks up. Pomni knew that look too damn well; one where his worries flew upside-down over the wind and it's slapping everyone else in the face but himself.
"Oh, no." She turns and stands in front of him, craning her neck to look him dead in the eye. It's the action that really heightens just how dark the park is. It closes earlier on weekdays and it showed—the faint buzz of a lamp overhead, ghost-quiet filling in the gaps. "I'm getting you something to eat."
"What? No! I said I'll manage." He stretches the word out, trying to swerve out of the way, but she's played these games before, stepping back and forth. "Besides!" he says, halting just for a moment to dig into the pockets of his shirt and come out empty handed. "I don't have any money. Sucks to be me."
"Because you keep blowing it on overpriced slushies!"
"They're worth the price!"
"Look," she brings her hands together, in an attempt to negotiate, "I have money. I'll get you something. Not because I need to but because I want to." His mouth opens and closes, and it reminds Pomni of a fish as she pulls out the crumpled fiver note from her tote.
"No," he says. "I don't need it."
"Jax, there are bags under your eyes and I can practically hear your stomach churning from here. It's only five dollars."
That was a bit too direct, but it's late and her patience is wearing thin.
She can see his pride chipping away and it's driving her crazy, remembering all the times he's practically dropped everything on his side to help her in unsavory situations but it's like dragging someone through a hedge to get him to take that aid back.
The thing with Jax? She's used to grabbing him and tugging him around when she absolutely should by the ears. Metaphorically. Half the time.
She's gently griping his arm before he can protest, used to this cat-and-mouse chase and she's used to his empty fake-outs. Pomni recalls a gas station just a five minute walk from the park and knows she can find something worthwhile there.
"Why are you dragging—"
"Let me help you."
The side door swings open and the wide rows of empty parking really makes their lone vehicles stand out in the moonlight. Pomni can see the gas station's flickering light in the distance, the walk not as far yet still more distant than she remembers. One step breaks into a brisk walk, Jax trailing right behind her whether by force or his own free will.
No matter what might have been buzzing in his head prior, he talks through his sleep-dragged throat, clarifying what went down after her 'horrible rejection'. Kaufmo had been unfunny as usual, although Pomni likes to give him the benefit of the doubt, even if her forced laughs aren't as insistent as Ragatha's are.
It diverges into small talk easily, volume barely over the howl of the wind, though she can hear every word. He grows more animated after each minute, like the stroll toward it in the dark was the wake-up call he needed to pull himself to his snarky self; the jokes returning in full force. Pomni knows that wandering like this so late at night probably isn't the brightest idea, but she can't deny it feels safer by his side. Funnily so, given that voicing this could be prime for some kind of tease.
"No way Kaufmo's jokes were that boring," she whispers, as they reach the corner to the convenience store, the white lights extra harsh to sleep eyes as they walk in. The air conditioner nearly blows Pomni's lopsided hat off her head, and she watches out of the corner of her eye as Jax's fur nearly stands on end.
The storesperson is an old folk, a triangular head with even, set eyes that seemed to wear down Pomni's soul as she moves towards the aisles. Jax follows behind, glancing back and forth between peanut packets, biscuits, juices and the like.
"No." She stops him before he can even think of suggesting it, pushing his arm away from the chip aisle. "You are not going to be running on crisp fumes."
"It costs less." He shrugs. "Wouldn't be the first time."
Why is he so damn worried about the cost?
"Well," she points to the center glass stand, at the croissants and wraps inside, "get a baked good. That works."
He sighs but doesn't argue. Their steps make too much noise in the silence, but Jax—after a too-long bout of indecisiveness—chooses something that could work, but not before wanting to make her pull her hair out.
"Just take the croissant."
"It's flat as fuck, it's more like a pancake."
"It's still a croissant? Weren't you the one raving about those flat croissants a week ago?"
"That's different."
Even after all of that, he still only chooses the chicken wrap, and the old man drops it in the brown bag with as much grace as sometime drenched from a four-to-twelve o' clock hour shift. The store's colder as they leave, and so is the wind, as they make their way back to Jax's car in comfortable silence.
"You'll make your way home on your own?" he asks, unlocking his door and setting the bag in between the front pocket.
"I will." She leans on his door, offering him a thumbs-up. She hasn't minded the nights events, only a quiet fulfillment of the events nestling in her core. And something else.
Jax rummages around the front of his car seat, and Pomni tilts her head to the side to peek at what he found.
"Look." He waves the crumpled thing in front of her face, grinning like a kid who found candy at the back of the closet. "A fiver."
"Jax, you don't have to." His insistence on this—why was it so annoying and amusing all at once? "Keep it."
"Hey, I know it's crumpled, but it's the value that counts."
"That's literally not my point."
He pouts unconvincingly, dropping his arm and placing on the other on the key, starting the engine. "Stubborn."
"You're the stubborn one."
She hooks an arm underneath the sleeves of her tote, tugging it tighter underneath her shoulder and turns round. "Good night, Jax."
"Smell ya later."
Pomni adjusts the stands of her hair blowing into her eyes as she makes her way to her own car, shaking away the shivers. Without the ease of conversation to swat away any lingering thoughts, it comes back unbidden:
I want to be her—
No. Stop. She'd learnt this; snapping away unwanted thoughts with the click of her fingers. But the emotion stays, a warm nook in her chest she can't physically wrench out. Does she hate it? Does she not? More questions to snap away, unlocking her car door with a bit of trouble, dumping her bag ungracefully in the side seat. Pomni takes a deep breath.
Starting the car, she rummages through her belongings, checking to see if she missed anything except her hand presses against something crinkled at the bottom of it.
Pomni knows what it is and doesn't hesitate to groan the minute she pulls it out.
That stupid fiver again.
Watching Jax's car roll away from the scene, she contemplates screaming, but the absurdity of it all has a wide, unabashed smile creep in on her face.
She drives home thinking about Jax, and the little things about him.
Pomni stretches her hands across the table, nearly meeting Gangle's in frustration.
"I had zero idea what to think about it," she says, breaking eye contact and munching angrily on her fruit. It's near afternoon and right in the middle of her lunch break, and she's been lucky enough to catch Gangle on her own and snag a table to share her snacks, and admittedly, her worries. "He's never done that to his cups then but now—"
"Wait, wait—" Gangle holds up her hands to stop her, looking more confused than concerned. "Not to, like… invalidate all of what you're saying, but," she gave her an apologetic smile, "are we really talking about Jax—crushing his… cups? Is that really such an odd thing?"
Putting it like that makes it sound crazy. Which… it is, point taken.
"I know it sounds far fetched." Pomni raps on her side of the table, averting eye contact.
"I mean," Gangle tilts her mask, "you do always note all the little details of things." A half laugh. "You may know better than, well, me."
"You're not all wrong," Pomni admits. "I could be writing up a problem for nothing, but—" She hasn't been completely honest about it. Last night still tugs at her head, threading together that awkward interaction with the surprising domestic act of getting Jax food. She sure hopes he'd eaten it on the way. "But some things did happen that made me curious."
She practically see the sparks flying in Gangle's void-like eyes at the mention of a story. "Ooh, tell me! What happened?"
Trying to get it all into words is a rambling hassle, but she gets it done, somewhat; from those minute incidents to what really mattered when it came to her suspicions over this, albeit leaving out some unimportant details—Jax's sleep-talking—in the hope that they are just as unimportant as she wants them to be.
Pomni doesn't really think it matters. Gangle seems way too invested in this regardless. And it's always so easy to lose her cool talking with…
"And it's always when Gummigoo is involved! I know Jax is the type to just… not like someone with no reason—he'd hated someone over their stupid face, I couldn't understand—but this feels slightly ridiculous."
A groan. "He hasn't failed to call him Outback Steakhouse every time he comes close! And it's not exclusive to just Gummigoo, for some reason it's when I'm in the picture! Can you believe he tried to LARP an Australian extremist in the car after that? And worse when me and Gummigoo are talking—he's always so weird after that. Testy."
"Mhm, mhm." A look is beginning to form on her mask. Odd.
"I don't really think this is about that anymore. He's been acting weird ever since and I'm so confused. I know I'm reading into this too deep and it could very much be for nothing, but am I wrong in catching that Jax looks upset and crushes that stupid cup every time I mention Gummigoo or he sees us tog—"
Pomni trails off the moment Gangle's expression shifts. A confused arch of eyes turned into an eerie, soulless (yet somehow vivid) stare in the matter of seconds.
"Gangle, why are you looking at me like that?"
As creepily as one of those old-timey cartoons, the grin on her face grows impossibly wider.
"Say that again."
She blinks. "W-What?"
"Say that again," Gangle says. "The last part."
"Uh… he looks upset and crushes his cup when he sees Gummigoo or I'm with him?"
"Say it again."
Pomni hates how her friend looks so triumphant about it, too. Is it really something so obvious she's seeming like it's written on her face? She's no stranger to talking certain things out with her but—
"Jax looks upset when he sees Gummigoo and me talking?"
"Again?"
"Is there some kind of implication here I'm not getting?"
Gangle looks about ready to explode, suddenly gripping the sides of the table to look her dead in the eye."No—yes? No?! Come on, how are you not getting it?" Getting what? "Think about it! Like, really hard!"
She narrows her eyes, willing her patience to stay with her. "Jax looks upset when he sees me and Gummigoo. Talking. Very normal fact."
"Do you really think that's all that is?" Gangle looks near manic, and if she wants her gears turning, sure. "You're the most emotionally aware person I know!"
Jax's irritation over Gummigoo's comradery. Proximity? What could Jax possibly be upset about—
Gangle's grin grows ten times wider than it already was as Pomni's expression shifts.
"You can't possibly be implying that."
"I think I am!"
"Are you really saying," Pomni says, "that he's jealous?"
"Yes," Gangle says, "I think he is."
"Why?" Pomni regrets the question only after it leaves her tongue.
Because somehow, not impossibly, she thinks she knows what Gangle's trying to say. And panic rises quickly, like a tidal wave in her gut because the threads in her head aren't coming up with a solid take to take that thought down.
Jax is… no, nice isn't the right word. He's charming, sure, that can work—it makes her laugh, given that's like fitting too elaborate a compliment on something not. He's interesting, always trying to nab her attention away. Buying her things, acting all funny when she tries to do the same, despite giving it to him anyway. Always tinkering with his toys he refuses to admit he loves. Always listening to her talking about the stupidest things, even if he feigned ignorance—
Wait. No. That's—
She's trying to find ways how he doesn't like her.
Not finding ways why she likes him.
But that's not true, is it? No, she likes him—more than that, but not more more in that sense. But that sounds stupid. Irrationally stupid. Emotionally aware, Gangle said. Where are her emotions now? Jumbled in a platter with no way and no how to organize them.
That pull in her chest though, it's trying to say something else.
Pomni turns to a waiting Gangle, trying to get her throat to learn how to open again.
"Are you trying to say Jax is jealous of this?"
"Maybe," she says.
"Because he likes…," she points to her chest.
"Perhaps."
Huh. Cool. Coolcoolcool. Now would normally be the time where regret surged in her chest; picking up those stray pieces, while she readied to formulate the best way to politely reject any misplaced emotions. Crushes near always ended with her shutting them down. They always did.
Pomni waits for that feeling to come. It never does.
Her imagination, strangely, giggles instead, in a sense. Pictures and scenarios don't paint a sad scene. Instead it's something else.
"I can't know for sure," she says. "He's just—he's just a…"
She ransacks her memories, trying to come up with something, anything to refute or laugh away the claim of her longtime friend. Friend. That word feels too empty, now that she thinks hard of it. Has she ever referred to Jax as a friend? Aside the times those cameras were shoved into her face, that word seems far more fitting to someone like Gangle; maybe Ragatha.
Best friend? When did she begin to use that attribute? Best friends are what Jax and Ribbit are all about—and Pomni barely knows the latter, still fairly new despite months. Jax is… Jax. The person she's pressed into her life, catches at every good moment; an arm around the shoulder, teasing her relentlessly, making her laugh.
Crap. She has nothing.
"Don't have anything?" Gangle asks softly. She's being so jumpy and patient and caring all at once and it's driving Pomni insane.
"I don't know if he likes me," Pomni says, and for once, she believes that might not have been the intention. But thinking back to that night, the things he said in his sleep?
Would it hurt to wish he did in fact think of her that way? And if she's hoping this much for it, then could say possibly say, "But maybe I don't mind the idea of…" She leaves it there, the flutter in her chest breaking it off. And crap, it isn't even the first time she feels it; she always thought it was anxious, nervous jitters, and she hardly thinks it's still possible to shelf it off as that.
Gangle finally cracks. "Whoa! Finally! You said it, you said it! Not exactly. But something close!'
"Wha—finally?"
"I mean," Gangle shrugs. "I didn't really… base everything off what you just said. It's kinda been obvious? You always talk about him and Zooble said he talks about you a lot so," another shrug. Her mouth curls into a suspicious colon three. "And I just think you guys are cute."
Jax talks about her? That makes something skip a beat. Talks like how? Good? Complaining? No, stop. She can't be obsessing over that lore drop just yet.
"Again, I don't know what this is." A beat, and this time she doesn't fight off the warmth that takes her. New lenses, new perspectives. Scary.
"That's okay," Gangle says quietly. "I think it's okay not knowing."
She leans across the table, something glinting in those eyes. "Sooo… what are going to say to him?"
"Oh?" Pomni shakes her head. "Oh no, there's nothing to tell—yet," she adds, after that didn't sound right until she did.
An idea forms then, something coming back to mind. A throwaway line than becomes an idea. Ossifies.
"I think I have an idea, though." Pomni shoots up and adjusts her tote, throwing the empty lunch box in without properly checking if it'd shut. Gangle blinks in surprise and brightens as she makes her way aside. "Gangle?"
"M-Mhm?"
"Thank you for that."
"But I barely said anything! You did most of the thinking," yet her mouth shuts as Pomni gives her an aggressively kind look back, "but… you're welcome! Whatever you do, I hope it goes well!"
Her cheer and sudden confidence finds its way on Pomni too, and she finds herself grinning. Checking her watch with five minutes to the end of her break, she plans out her next steps, waving her a happy good bye as she makes her way toward where Ragatha should be next. The sun beats down harshly the second she leaves the shade of the umbrella, but she doesn't feel it.
It's a little ways away when she sees Gummigoo's wave, the other heading in the direction of the fall event.
"Pomni!" he calls, waving out to her and offering her those big wide smiles. When he comes closer, she stops, but he drops his voice down casually, reminding her with his next question. "Don't mean to be all pushy with it, but have you remembered the ol' show I mentioned earlier?"
"Oh, yes, I have!" She beams at him, shaking his hand. "I'll check it out, most likely. Thank you so much for recommending it to me."
For a moment, Pomni swears she saw a flash of disappointment across his face, but it leaves as quickly as it comes, only choosing to tilt his hat in a goodbye with his signature smile.
"Alright, lass. Enjoy your time there, and see you around."
She bids him goodbye, resuming her pace, but not before glancing back at the lunch table where Gangle still sat under. Only time time, Zooble had entered the scene, head-mask down where the kids couldn't see it, the former seeming to laugh at what they'd said.
Her friend really should put her own advice to use, she thinks. Pomni still smiles as she walks off.
She considers hugging her hands to herself for warmth, but balancing the two objects in hand, Pomni finds no space to do so; walking across the empty parking scene in the night with her tote across her shoulder.
She squints her eyes enough to make out the figures, though she already knew who it was. Jax leaned against Ribbit's car as they talked, having an animated discussion about something she can't fully understand as she comes closer—illuminated by the hazy streetlight. Jax never got a hold of them as much as he likes, he'd mentioned, and Pomni has no intention of disturbing that peace too much.
Hiding her two things behind her back, she passes over Jax, offering a wave to Ribbit in tune as she speaks. "Hey, Jax?" She motions to his car with her head, only about six parking spaces away. "Is it unlocked? I wanna see if I left something in there."
"Yeah, sure," he says, keeping eye contact with her an extra second, an off hand clicking his car open. Incredible trust there, though she knows for sure he wouldn't call it that. He smirks. "Try not to steal it."
"If I'm in a good mood!" she throws back, trying not to hurry over to it while his back was turned. Hugging the cup between her side and hand, she pulls the front seat open, propping it up.
Gingerly, she holds the things she's going to leave here with a firm grip, smiling as she places it down. One, a slushie cup, still cold and packed with ice. Pomni hopes it stays that way, and he would never find a need to crush one again.
Being careful to prop it up on the cupholder, she leaves the other thing on top, exactly where he can see it, face up—the vibrant font and colors of the show's name on full display. He better not lose it to the recesses of his car along with her note.
Shutting the door quietly, she makes her way to her own vehicle, unable to stop the tug of her own lips.
Reaching into her tote, she pulls out her other ticket, tracing across the lines. Pomni awaits his reaction to that one. Maybe he'd tease her about it the next day. Maybe he'd wordlessly agree, pulling them both into her car as she pesters about things he likes to hear. Shocked she will be if she gets an all-in yes.
But she really hopes he does in his own way. It's always the little things about him that makes it worth it.