***

Sai

***

It was not the sound of traffic, or the sound of someone pounding on the neighbour's door, that had Sai waking up with a pained groan later that morning, but rather the insistent grumbling of his stomach. His stomach cramped up again just then as he was hoping it had finally stopped, and with one more inarticulate curse he realized he'd have to drag himself out of bed for something to eat. Rolling out from his futon, and out from under his wonderfully warm duvet, he all but jumped to his feet to get away from the cold wood floor. Wobbling very unsteadily for a while, shivering as the air hit his half naked body, he really had not had the energy to properly undress for bed the previous evening, he quickly pulled on a jersey and shoved his feet into slippers. Padding over to the alcove that was the kitchen he put on the kettle, spooned instant coffee, sugar and powdered milk into a large mug, then trudged off to the bathroom while he waited for the water to boil.

He boiled the water again when he got back to the kitchen, because he liked his coffee hot, even if it did burn his tongue, then opened the fridge to see what he could throw together for breakfast. Usually he would only have been up in time for lunch, so this was a new and rather disturbing development. He really should not have skipped supper last night. Anyway, he opened the fridge and it was… empty. Turning he opened the cupboard. Inside were crackers, a single cup of instant noodles and a bag of crisps. That is: cupboard… empty. If he remembered correctly he also still had a chocolate bar lying around somewhere, but still he had almost no food, and now he had no job, so if he didn't find one soon he'd starve. The idea sent shivers down his spine. Imagine endless nights without food and then not having the rent money for this place, measly as it was, and being kicked to the streets, cold and hungry. The thought nearly had him huddled and cowering in a corner.

Hands clasped around his coffee mug, he stared blankly at one stained wall before him before deciding something should be done. Making quick work of the coffee and munching on the crackers he headed for the bathroom again first before anywhere else. If he was going to be kicked out then he wouldn't be having a warm bath for a while, so he'd best take advantage of what he still could.

***

Kieran

***

Kieran pushed up his glasses and rubbed at his tired eyes. He had been going through the Café's finances and was reorganizing almost everything else. He'd been in the shop all of the previous day, working with Nancy and the casuals. He was thinking of hiring some permanent waiters instead of relying on temporary staff. It was turning out to be quite a task rearranging his working force and the new system and how to pay whom. Truthfully, he did not have very much practical experience at running a business, but his father had been a big corporate tycoon and he'd been expected to take an interest in the business world, even though he had several older brothers who would likely inherit. He'd just been glad back then that he was not forced into the thing, and had welcomed the freedom of career. He much preferred painting to working with numbers. Or at least, he had. Now he was stuck with the numbers and hadn't picked up a paintbrush in ages. And he did not much want to paint any time soon, if he was being honest. But honesty was something he was having a hard time with, especially when it came to being honest with himself.

A knock came at the door and Nancy stepped in, a cup of coffee steaming in her hand as she entered the office and offered him the cup with a smile. One good thing about working in a coffee shop was that you were always guaranteed an excellent choice of coffee.

"Hey, how's it going in here?" Nancy asked after setting the cup down, leaning against the chair across the desk from where Kieran was hunched over his desk. She had taken up the role as assistant to her new boss quite well.

"Ah, I'd say tedious, but it's all necessary." He answered running a hand through his silver hair, which looked almost white as it reflected the sunlight streaming in through the windows, his eyes an impossibly bright, golden colour. Nancy paused for a minute to admire him, regretting that they didn't get along well enough. But Kieran had turned out to be quite a stand-offish guy, not getting very friendly or comfortable with the staff or the customers. She regretted it but was starting to doubt that anything could be done to change him.

"Ah, I put in that ad that you asked me to. A friend of mine works at the paper, so it should be in today's paper. I've advertised that interviews start tomorrow and I've asked one of the girls to get the morning paper so we can check the article. It's quite an exciting idea really, I don't know why we haven't thought of having live performances here before." She offered into the pause in the conversation.

"Yes, the shop does close fairly early, and this way we can make some business at night too. What time did you say the interviews would be starting?" Kieran asked finally.

"Nine to two. Tomorrow and Thursday. I could take turns with them if you'd like. To give you a bit of a break. There'll be no interviews over lunch of course." Nancy replied.

"No, I'll to the interviews myself. I know what type of artists I'd like to have perform. We'll call the potentials in again after closing to give a demonstration, so that the customers are not interrupted, so do not forget we will be staying a bit later than usual. I'll add the overtime into your pay."

"Oh, no, you really don't need to do that. I find this idea quite fascinating, and I'll make sure everything is ready and that someone stays behind to help with whatever prep needs to be done." Kieran just nodded once then turned back to his work. "If that's all I'll get back to work then." Nancy finished, unhappy and uncomfortable with the brush off. Kieran Marx really had to work on his attitude. It was no use working in the service industry if you had no people skills. As she walked out of the office she momentarily resented the fact that he had just walked in here and taken over. She had taken much pride in running the place, and everything Kieran Marx said seemed to imply that he was unimpressed with the state of affairs at Hott Stuff. With a sigh and a mental slap she pulled herself together. The man was making changes, but they were for the better. He wanted this place to succeed, if only for Lira. And that was nothing to complain about.