RAYNE (Xiao Hong Song)
“Order up!” Marshall slid the plate over the counter towards Rayne. The loud kitchen bustled around her as she ducked under another server to pick up the fish dishes. The pair of glamorous plates was photo-ready, given the Instagram-driven crowd that flocked in droves to their location each weekend. It kept the restaurant busy and lively.
The local DJ mixed the ambient music as Rayne danced out of the overly warm kitchen to the well-air-conditioned, ultra-chic dining area to her table. The couple smiled at her, asking her to take another picture of them with their floral-decorated plates at the table. She nodded, taking another few photos with another iPhone to hand back for them to ooh and ah over before taking several more pictures before even bothering to taste the meal.
Rayne left the table and moved on to the next, allowing them to leave for the evening. There were four of the twenty-somethings, one of them being some ‘influencer’ that asked several times for a discount on the bill because of the promotion she would do for the restaurant. No one got deals. The owner didn’t need influencers to promote the place. The food spoke for itself and had for years and the chef kept up with the times regularly. With hints of the mystique of few, even seeing the owner helped, she left the check nearly ten minutes ago and passed by to see if they needed anything.
“Look, I am friends with the owner,” the influencer girl began. She flipped her long, freshly done platinum blonde hair from one of the high-end salons to keep it a perfect, nearly impossible shade. “He would be disappointed to see that I was paying this much for my meal. He knows me, and I don’t see the discount I was told I would have.”
“The owner doesn’t know you. I already asked him,” Rayne began softly enough so as to not be heard by the other tables around. She wove the simple spell through her words, keeping everyone at the table calm and listening to her carefully. She dealt with other diners who attempted this before and didn’t want to cause a scene. She didn’t like to use magic at work, but she didn’t feel like dealing with a meltdown in the middle of the rush. “He stated no discounts, especially for people he doesn’t know. Please, don’t start a scene and pay the bill.” Rayne gave a bright smile and a simple bow.
The group of four blinked owlishly at her, pulling out their credit cards all at once toward her. Rayne took the influencer’s card and bill and left to ring the group up in order to get them out of the restaurant as quickly as possible. She felt the hand of one of the other magic users of the staff.
“Xiao Hong, I felt you. Are you well?” Aspen asked in her broken Chinese.
“Yes, entitlement is running rampant at table fifteen. They didn’t want to pay, and I just encouraged them before it got too out of hand,” Rayne replied in fluent Chinese, tinged in her native Taiwanese accent. Aspen was among the few who called her by her full name instead of her Americanized name.
“Darn, I knew it was going to be one of those nights.” Aspen shrugged and took her empty glasses towards the bar. “Bump me if you need any help on the magic end.”
“Will do. The encouragement on bill paying wasn’t one I would normally do, but Saturday night during the rush? Nobody has time for this.” Rayne smiled back.
She returned the leather envelope with the receipt and card to the table, leaving it with a pleasant smile honed after years of working in the service industry.
The rest of the evening continued with the hustle and bustle of tables coming in and out without another overly dramatic influencer determined to be the castle queen. By the end of the long shift, chairs were being put on the clean tables with waves of exhaustion washing over the entire staff as they went about their tasks to close out the night.
Rayne nibbled on the plate of appetizers the cooks had set up from leftover food that had to be used. She felt the song of magic inside of her crash into her mind. Blacking out every noise within the restaurant, only the chords of each note rang out individually, echoing through a chamber of her mind. Rayne grabbed the closest pillar, shaking from the call-breaking spell that shielded her for years. It had found her. They had seen her.
She wiped a tear from her eye before it destroyed her eyeliner, making the rest of the staff aware something had happened. The next chord echoed, nearly swiping her from her standing position. It had been years since she had heard a call. The old habits and understanding were too rusty to pick up immediately on what it meant. It had to be wrong if the ancient bells were ringing across the country from California, reaching her in New York. The bells were getting this intensity, pressure, and need globally. The need for something important is conveyed through music. Not that she remembered exactly what each tone meant. She would have to wait momentarily as the song blared through her mind.
“Rayne?” She heard her name through the pauses in the tones currently reigning havoc on her psyche. She pulled her gaze off the mosaic floor she focused on to keep standing semi-straight. The night manager stood before her, helping her stand up.
“Malachi,” Rayne stuttered. Her voice wobbled, hitting awkward, false notes, even to her ears. “Sorry, my head is killing me.”
“You look like hell, sweetie. Sit down,” he replied, pulling down one of the seats. He helped her settle onto the seat. “Breathe. We will get someone else to finish up here for you. I’ll call you a ride to get you home.”
“I can manage,” she began before he waved a hand toward her.
“No, we will handle this. I will get you home. It has been a long evening. I would rather know you got home safe.” He patted her shoulder. Rayne resigned with a deep sigh, placing her head into her hands.
“Thanks.” She spoke as the next set of bells entered her mind, drowning out the sound of anything else said.