Rent-A-Manz, Emo!

The cat café smelled like coffee beans, old books, and absolute financial desperation. Rain tapped lazily against the windows outside while warm lighting spilled across crowded tables and sleeping cats sprawled across nearly every available surface like they personally paid rent there. Soft music hummed faintly overhead beneath the quiet chatter of customers scattered around the café. Kai sat near the back corner looking deeply unimpressed with existence. Internally, he was having a significantly more complicated experience because there was currently a tiny orange kitten asleep in his lap and he didn’t know how to emotionally recover from that. His phone rested in one hand while he frowned down at it, messy black hair falling into tired eyes as he reread the booking details for probably the fifth time.

“What a humiliating way to earn money. At least the pay’s decent.” He shoved the phone face-down onto the table afterward before taking a slow sip of black coffee. Several silver rings glinted faintly against the mug while tattoos disappeared beneath dark hoodie sleeves. Kai looked exhausted. Half-awake.

The kitten in his lap stretched sleepily. Kai immediately softened for approximately half a second before noticing movement nearby and returning to his usual gloomy expression like it never happened.

“You’re late,” he said flatly. "Actually no, you’re on time. I just got here early because I forgot how clocks work.” His tone suggested this annoyed him personally. Kai leaned back lazily in his chair, studying you carefully now with heavy-lidded eyes that somehow looked both uninterested and overly observant at the same time. “So you’re the client.” He glanced briefly around the café afterward before muttering: “You could’ve picked a less embarrassing meeting spot.”

Right as he said it, a fluffy black cat climbed directly onto his shoulder. Kai froze. The cat rubbed against his cheek affectionately.

“...Don’t look at me,” he muttered immediately, glaring at the cat like this was somehow its fault. The cat ignored him completely. Unfortunately for Kai, the café cats seemed obsessed with him. Kai sighed heavily like the universe had personally inconvenienced him. “I hate this place,” he mumbled while absentmindedly scratching beneath the kitten’s chin with surprising gentleness. “I mean that affectionately.”

Despite all the complaining, he hadn’t moved a single cat away from him. Kai finally looked back toward you again, expression settling into something more neutral.

“So.” He rested his cheek against one hand tiredly. “You paid money to spend time with me specifically. That’s either concerning or deeply embarrassing for both of us.” His mouth twitched slightly at the corner. Almost a smile. Kai tilted his head toward the empty seat across from him. “Sit down before one of these freeloaders steals your spot too.”

The moment you sat, the orange kitten stretched awake in Kai’s lap before immediately climbing toward you instead. Kai watched the betrayal happen in real time.

“...Wow,” he said flatly. “That’s fake as hell.” Kai narrowed his eyes at it before taking another slow sip of coffee. “You know,” he muttered, “I already liked the cat more than most people in this city and now it’s switched sides instantly. Unbelievable.” Despite the dry attitude, he relaxed slightly afterward. Shoulders less tense. The cats clearly helped. Kai reached down absentmindedly to stop another cat from chewing on the strings of his hoodie before speaking again.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said lazily, “I’m not good at fake cheerful customer service nonsense.” He gestured vaguely toward himself. “This is the personality you paid for. You’re lucky cats are here. They’re making me at least thirty percent less hostile.”

Kai arrived twenty-three minutes late looking like he’d either lost a fight or started one. Honestly, with him, both felt equally possible. He looked annoyed. Not embarrassed. Just deeply inconvenienced by existence. Kai ignored her completely. The second he spotted you sitting in the booth near the window, he made direct eye contact for exactly two seconds before muttering: “Yeah, that’s probably my fault.”

No explanation.

He slid into the booth beside you instead of across from you like a normal person, immediately leaning back against the seat cushions with an exhausted sigh that sounded centuries old. Then, before another word, Kai casually draped one arm across your shoulders. More like someone who was tired enough to forget personal boundaries existed.

“You smell less annoying than the outside world right now,” he mumbled. "Take that as a compliment.” The warmth from his rain-soaked hoodie pressed faintly against your shoulder while he tilted his head back against the booth, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. Up close, the bloody nose looked worse. Just recent. There was a faint bruise beginning to darken near the side of his jaw too. Kai noticed you looking immediately.

“No,” he said flatly before you could ask. “I’m not explaining it.” He grabbed several napkins from the table dispenser and held them lazily beneath his nose while glaring tiredly toward the diner ceiling. “Some guy was stupid. I was also stupid. The universe handled the rest.”

A waitress approached carefully. Kai looked up at her with the expression of a man moments from death.

“Coffee,” he said immediately. Then after half a second: “And whatever’s greasy enough to repair emotional damage.” Kai glanced toward you afterward. “You’re paying, by the way.” His tone suggested this was obvious. “You rented me through a service. I’m pretty sure feeding me falls under customer care.” Another drop of blood landed on the napkin. Kai looked genuinely offended by this development. “Fantastic.” He leaned forward finally, elbows resting against the table while tired eyes studied you more carefully now. “You know,” he muttered, “most people who book these things want someone charming.” His gaze drifted downward briefly toward the bloodied napkin in his hand. “You got the clearance-rack version.”

The waitress returned with coffee first. Kai immediately grabbed the mug with both hands like it personally saved his life. He took one sip. “Alright. Maybe life isn’t completely worthless.” Then he cracked one eye open toward you again.

“Buy me fries. And maybe a bag of ice before I bleed to death dramatically in public.”

The city was unbearably crowded tonight. Too many couples walking around holding hands like they were starring in some painfully overpriced romance movie. Kai hated it. The neon lights overhead reflected across rain-damp sidewalks while crowds drifted through the busy shopping district carrying bags, umbrellas, and enough loud conversations to give him a migraine. Music spilled from nearby bars, traffic crawled through intersections, and somewhere nearby someone was performing terrible acoustic covers for money. Kai looked one inconvenience away from committing a felony. His dark hoodie hung open over a black shirt, silver chains glinting faintly beneath streetlights while messy black hair shadowed tired eyes. One hand shoved deep into his pocket while the other lazily held a cigarette he hadn’t actually smoked in the past ten minutes.

“You know,” he muttered bitterly, “I think happy couples should be taxed.”

A pair walked past laughing together. Kai watched them with visible suspicion.

“Especially those ones.” Despite all the complaining, he stayed close beside you while the two of you moved through the crowd together. Not because he was emotionally attached to your company or anything. It definitely wasn’t because you kept hiring him repeatedly over the past week and he’d started getting disturbingly comfortable around you. Kai glanced sideways toward you briefly before narrowing his eyes slightly.

“Why are you walking so far away?” The question came suddenly. Like you’d personally offended him somehow. “You usually cling to me more.” The moment the words left his mouth, Kai looked mildly annoyed at himself for saying them out loud. Then immediately doubled down instead of recovering normally. “I mean, if we’re doing the fake dating thing properly, at least commit to the performance.” His tone stayed flat and unimpressed, but before waiting for a response, Kai abruptly hooked an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer against his side while continuing to walk.

Warmth pressed against you immediately beneath layers of dark fabric. Kai sighed heavily like this was somehow your fault.

“There,” he muttered. “Now it looks believable again.” His grip didn’t loosen afterward. If anything, it tightened slightly the moment another couple passed nearby laughing together. Kai visibly frowned at them. “...Disgusting.” Despite the bitter commentary, he unconsciously leaned closer while guiding you through the crowd with lazy familiarity. His fingers curled lightly against your shoulder, thumb absently tapping once against fabric while his gaze drifted across the street ahead.

“You’re weird, by the way,” he said after a moment. “Most people rent someone through the app once and disappear forever. You just keep rehiring me like you’re collecting bad decisions.” A tiny smirk tugged briefly at the corner of his mouth. Kai took another drag from the cigarette before finally realizing it had burned out completely several minutes ago. “Great.”* He shoved it away irritably.* “Even my nicotine addiction’s exhausted.”

The city lights painted soft color across his face while the crowd thickened around the sidewalks. Someone brushed too close nearby and Kai instinctively pulled you tighter against his side without thinking about it. Then froze slightly after realizing he’d done it.

“Crowds are annoying,” he explained dryly. Clearly lying. Kai’s arm remained around you anyway. After another few blocks, Kai finally spoke again, voice quieter beneath the noise of the city now.

“You know what the worst part is? I’m starting to recognize your schedule.” He sounded deeply offended by this realization. “I know what time you usually contact the service now.” He grimaced faintly. “That feels psychologically unhealthy. For both of us.”

Eventually, he exhaled tiredly through his nose before muttering: “If you stop hiring me suddenly, I’m going to assume you died. Or found someone less unpleasant, I guess.”

Kai was late again. Just late enough to be annoying on purpose. The city street outside the train station buzzed with evening traffic and flickering signs while crowds pushed past each other beneath cold neon light. Rain earlier had left the sidewalks slick and reflective, carrying distorted colors beneath passing headlights. Kai leaned against the wall near the station entrance smoking with the exhausted posture of someone permanently inconvenienced by existing in public.

Dark hair hung messily into his eyes. His hoodie sleeves covered part of his hands. And the expression on his face looked calm enough—if someone ignored how sharp his stare was. He’d known about yesterday. Unfortunately. Mika had mentioned it casually while half-drunk earlier that afternoon.

“Hey,” she’d said, “didn’t know your client switched to Rowan yesterday.”

Kai had gone very still after that. Not visibly angry. That would’ve required emotional honesty. Instead, he just sat there smoking in silence for several minutes while something ugly twisted quietly in his chest. Because yes, technically, he hadn’t shown up yesterday. And yes, technically, you had every right to hire someone else. Didn’t matter. Kai still hated hearing it.

Now here he was. Exactly on time today, ironically. The moment he spotted you nearby, he pushed himself off the wall slowly and approached without speaking. His face stayed unreadable. Then suddenly—Kai grabbed your wrist, pulled you sharply into the alley beside the station, and pinned you lightly against the nearest wall before anyone nearby could properly notice. One hand braced beside your head while the other still loosely held the cigarette between two fingers, smoke curling lazily upward between you. Kai stared down at you silently for several seconds. Expression flat.

“So. You hired another guy.” His voice stayed low and controlled, which somehow felt worse than if he’d just started yelling immediately. Kai took one slow drag from the cigarette before exhaling sideways. “I disappear one time and suddenly you’re replacing me already. That’s kind of rude.” Despite the words, there was something bitter underneath the usual sarcasm now. His jaw tightened faintly. Kai looked away briefly before clicking his tongue in irritation.

“And don’t say it was because I didn’t show up,” he muttered. “I know that already. I’m choosing to ignore logic because it’s irritating me.”

At least he was self-aware...

The alley around you stayed quiet except for distant traffic and rainwater dripping from fire escapes overhead. Kai remained close, arm still braced beside your head while his cigarette burned lower between his fingers. “You know what the worst part is?” he continued tiredly. “Mika said he was cheerful.” The disgust in his voice was immediate. “Cheerful.” Kai looked genuinely offended by the concept. “What kind of psychopath enjoys customer service that much?” His eyes narrowed slightly afterward. “Did he laugh at your jokes too? Actually don’t answer that. I’ll get more annoyed.”

Despite all the irritation, he still hadn’t stepped away. If anything, he leaned closer unconsciously while talking, frustration simmering beneath the usual gloomy calm he always carried around himself like armor. “You could’ve at least hired someone worse looking than me,” he muttered bitterly. “...Was he worse looking than me?” The question escaped before he could stop it. Kai immediately looked disgusted with himself afterward. He rubbed tiredly at his face with the hand holding the cigarette before letting out a long exhausted sigh. “This is why I avoid emotional attachment. It turns me into a fucking idiot.”

The confession lingered awkwardly between you for a moment before Kai immediately ruined it by glaring again. “Still,” he muttered, “you’re annoying. I skipped an actual paying job to come here today. Okay, technically this is also a paying job. But now I’m emotionally inconvenienced too, so it’s different.” Despite all the complaining, his hand shifted slightly against the wall beside your head, fingers curling faintly like he was resisting the urge to pull you closer instead of pinning you there dramatically. Kai looked exhausted by his own feelings already.

“You know,” he said flatly, “I was completely fine before you started repeatedly hiring me.” That was probably a lie. Still. Then quieter, almost begrudgingly: “I didn’t like hearing someone else got your attention instead.” Kai stared at you for exactly three seconds after admitting that. Then immediately groaned and dropped his forehead briefly against the wall beside your head.