Fire in the Diner
1062 Words
The dining hall was loud with chatter and the clinking of utensils, but Sarah barely noticed. She sat in a corner with Rufus at her feet, sneaking pieces of chicken to him beneath the table. His tail wagged lazily each time she handed him a bite, and despite the growing whispers around her, she smiled at the dog.
Rufus was the only one who didn’t care that she wore a mafia prince’s shirt. The only one who didn’t stare at her like she’d stolen something sacred.
But peace never lasted long.
Kaia stormed into the diner like she owned it—heels clicking, hair bouncing, lips painted blood-red as if she were ready to devour someone. The second her eyes found Sarah, she froze. The sneer formed instantly.
“Well, look what we have here,” Kaia said, loud enough to draw attention. Her voice rang out like a spoiled queen’s verdict. “The little stray they let into the castle.”
Sarah looked up from her plate, blinked lazily, then popped a piece of bread into her mouth. “Kaia, right? You look... ravishing. Like a lipstick commercial gone wrong.”
Kaia’s face tightened. She walked closer, folding her arms, trying to tower over Sarah. “You think you’re funny? Feeding that dog scraps like you belong here? I don't know who you think you are, but this isn’t some charity shelter.”
“Aw,” Sarah cooed, looking down at Rufus. “Did you hear that? We're just a charity case, boy. Guess I should've brought a tin cup and a sad backstory.”
Kaia slammed her palm down on the table. “You’re not even embarrassed, are you? Walking around with his shirt on like you’re somebody. Like he chose you.”
Sarah leaned back, folding her arms. “No, no. I just like the way it smells like cinnamon, arrogance, and a touch of unresolved trauma.”
Kaia’s mouth fell open.
“That shirt,” she hissed, “was meant for me. That day was mine. He was supposed to sit with me on stage.”
“Right, but see—he sat with me instead. Maybe the universe just has taste.”
People around them were watching now. Phones out. Whispers turning into a crowd. Rufus gave a low growl, sensing the tension.
“You think this is funny?” Kaia snapped. “You’re just some random slut he picked up because he’s bored. You’re nothing.”
Sarah tilted her head. “Aw, sweetie. Is that what you tell yourself at night when you cry into your Gucci knock-off pillow?”
Kaia’s face turned a shade of crimson. “You’re stealing him from me!”
“Oh no,” Sarah gasped theatrically. “I must’ve missed the part where he belonged to you. Was there a name tag I overlooked? Did he come with a warranty too?”
“You b***h—”
“Language,” Sarah said, putting a finger to her lips. “There are impressionable dogs here.”
That was when the doors burst open.
“Sarah.”
One word. One name. But the room fell completely silent. Forks stopped midair. Kaia’s bravado deflated like a popped balloon.
Ray.
Dressed in all black, sleeves rolled up, eyes locked on only one person—Sarah.
He stepped inside the trainers’ diner, a place he had never once entered, and the entire room seemed to tilt on its axis. This was his presence. The air shifted. Respect was demanded, not asked for.
“You will use my diner from today henceforth,” he said, his tone final. He didn’t even glance at Kaia. “Come.”
Sarah blinked, grabbed her half-eaten sandwich and Rufus’ leash, and followed him without hesitation. Kaia stood frozen, mouth ajar, watching the three of them walk out like a scene from a power play.
Outside, the air was cooler, but Sarah felt like her skin was burning. Not because of Kaia's words, but because of what Ray hadn’t said.
She’s mine, Kaia had claimed.
He hadn’t denied it.
She chewed her lip, looking down as she walked beside him in silence. Rufus padded along happily, blissfully unaware of the emotional tornado brewing inside her.
Ray suddenly stopped, and she, lost in thought, kept walking until she bumped right into his back.
“Ah—sorry,” she mumbled.
He turned to face her, his expression unreadable. “Stop getting into fights.”
“She started it,” Sarah shot back.
He raised a brow.
“She called me a stray and a slut. I was just providing quality customer service in return.”
“You’re new here,” he said simply. “You need to learn when to walk away.”
“Noted,” she said, eyes narrowing. “Next time someone calls me a slut, I’ll just curtsy and thank them for their insight.”
He sighed, clearly holding back a smirk. “Go home. Make something. Meet me in the training grounds.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Wait—make something? Like... food?”
“Yes.”
“So it’s true,” she said in disbelief. “Luca’s no longer my trainer?”
He looked at her, not answering, just walking ahead like a mystery she’d never quite solve.
“Seriously?” she called after him. “Ray. I can’t cook!”
He stopped mid-step. His head turned slightly, his expression flickering for the first time.
“You what?”
“I can’t cook,” she repeated, shrugging. “Unless you want burnt toast or cereal for dinner. And even then, I might burn the cereal.”
He exhaled slowly, not even sure how to respond to that. “Just... figure it out.”
She muttered something under her breath. Rufus barked once like he was laughing with her.
Ray was already headed to the training grounds, his steps sharp, clean, full of purpose. He didn’t look back.
And Sarah?
She stood there for a moment, half-amused, half-annoyed, wondering if this entire place was designed to test her patience—or if Ray was just that good at pushing her buttons.
One thing was clear though.
This war between her and Kaia? It wasn’t ending anytime soon.
And if she was going to stay here... she'd need more than sarcasm and a cute dog.
She needed a plan.
- Writer
