Setting a date

The pizza guy rubbed the back of his neck as Kara leaned across their café table, eyes wide, lip jutting into a pout that would’ve melted even the grumpiest Gothamite.

“Aw, really? You can’t come home?”

“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I really want to, but I’ve been called in. Tony’s short-staffed again and the night guy bailed.”

Kara sighed, dramatically flopping back in her seat. “You’re too good. Too responsible. I should have fallen for a degenerate.”

He laughed, standing and gathering his things. “Tomorrow. I promise. Raincheck on that movie?”

She sat up again and gave him the softest smile. “It’s a date.”

…

…

…

Sigh.

Suddenly, the pizza guy wished he had just gone to her apartment.

The store was quiet. The kind of quiet that pressed against the windows like it wanted to. Outside, the streets were mostly empty, just puddles reflecting the orange glow of distant streetlights. Inside, the pizza guy stood at the cash register, arms crossed, stifling a yawn. He’d cleaned everything twice. The ovens were on low. The scent of pepperoni lingered like a ghost.

He didn’t even notice the neon sign by the door flicking to CLOSED.

With a sigh, he leaned forward on the counter, checking the clock.

Then the bell above the door jingled.

He blinked. “Huh?” He turned, expecting to see Tony or maybe a lost delivery guy.

Instead, his jaw nearly dropped. The biggest holy shit bomb left his lips. What the hell WAS his life?

There, stepping lightly into the shop, was ...