II
Candace loitered around the hostess station, chatting with Skylar in between her coworkers’ trips to her one active table, when Jenn approached them.
“I don’t think it’s going to pick up any more tonight. You girls can take off after Skylar’s table leaves.”
Candace would have been surprised if this wasn’t the third time this week she’d been cut early from a shift. As Jenn walked away, Skylar sighed. “Three tables… Barely worth putting on pants and driving down here.”
“I guess it gives me more time to study,” Candace said.
Skylar’s blonde brows rose. “Study?”
“I need to retake the ACT so I can apply to Lake Valley.”
“The community college?”
“Yeah. My grades from high school were shit, but it won’t matter if I get a decent ACT score.”
Skylar left to give her table their check and run their credit card. Candace waited for her, and they walked out together.
Skylar said, “Were you always planning on going to college? You never mentioned it before.”
“Well, there’s no way I could get into a real school, but I think I have a shot at LVCC.”
“I know a few girls who went through their nursing program.”
Candace imagined herself emptying bedpans and sticking people with needles, shuddering. “I’m not sure what I want to study. Probably just basic stuff. I want to have more options, you know?”
“I get that. Will you keep working?”
“Oh, I’ll have to. But the way things are going here, I may need to start looking for something else.”
“Oof, same.”
“I really like being at Joe’s, but I’m just not getting the hours anymore.”
“For real. And you were just getting the menu down.”
“I know…”
They reached Skylar’s car, and she paused with the door half open. “I know a bunch of people in the industry. I can ask around for you?”
“Really? That would be awesome.”
Skylar grinned. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a place together.”
***
Candace stood in the restaurant bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. She’d fled the interview as soon as Linda, the general manager, offered her the job. Skylar had set up the meeting and sent her the address, but Candace hadn’t thought to ask which restaurant it was.
Headlights was a regional chain that, to put it politely, was most famous for the aesthetic qualities of its servers. Candace couldn’t move. Leaning on the sink, her hands stuck to the porcelain as if it were made of tar, while her consciousness floated somewhere near the LED strip lights in the drop-ceiling tiles. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t work at Headlights. How could she wait tables while flaunting her body like a cheap whore? The outfits the other servers wore were even worse than Mandy’s cheer “uniform.”
But Skylar had worked hard to get her this interview, gassed her up to Linda. And they’d get to keep working together. What else could she do? Keep working at Joe’s to barely cover rent and gas? Despite what people said, most restaurants in town were not desperate for servers. She wasn’t Skylar. She could do all the basic tasks of the job—taking orders, carrying plates, running the POS system—but she wasn’t good at connecting with people. She couldn’t flatter or compliment or fluff people up if she felt like she was lying.
She had to take this job. She had to suck it up and deal with it. It wasn’t like she’d actually be working at a strip club, no matter how skimpy the uniforms were. At the end of the day, it was still a restaurant—it was work she knew how to do. She would keep looking for something else, and if nothing else, it’d be easier to find another job if she wasn’t desperate.
Finally pushing herself off the counter, Candace stood, took a deep breath, then another—in through her mouth, out through her nose. She stepped out into the dining room, sizing up a nearby server. The woman was a light brunette, almost blonde, slightly heavier than Candace, but with all the curves that went with it. She wore the Headlights uniform: a navy blue pleated skirt that barely reached halfway down her thighs, white knee socks, and a baby blue tank that clung to her, showing off a bit of cleavage and the subtle pudge of her stomach.
It’s a job, Candace told herself. Decent hours, good tips, walking distance from her apartment…
She found Linda waiting at a high top near the bar.
“Well, have you decided?”
Candace nodded. “I’ll take it.”
***
Candace’s days settled back into a normal routine. She and Skylar worked at Headlights, and she gradually got used to the outfit. The work was the same, after all, and if she caught the occasional customer struggling to meet her eyes, well, the tips were better than her old job.
Little did she know that some of those customers remembered her after they left the restaurant. Her shoulder-length auburn hair framed a heart-shaped face with delicate eyes and full lips. Her bare arms were smooth and soft, and her stocking-clad legs were thin and longer than her 5’2 height suggested. The pleated skirt gave the impression of more bottom than she possessed, and the tank top hugged and emphasized her breasts, which were slightly above a B-cup. While there were better-endowed servers at Headlights, Candace stood out in some people’s minds. When they were alone, at home, pleasuring themselves, the image of a slim, cute, redheaded waitress from the “breastaurant” would pop into their heads.
And so, every once in a while, Candace felt that same strange feeling. While studying, watching anime, showering, making food, or trying to sleep, a wave of pleasant heat flared up between her legs, spreading through her core and making her chest tingle. After only a month at her new job, Candace’s bras were getting tight, and she went shopping.
Her favorite thrift store’s lingerie section had only the barest semblance of organization. The bras and panties were mostly separate, with hooks for the former and bins for the latter. It was clear that the employees tried to sort the bras by size, but it wasn’t quite as simple as the T-shirt section, with its extra-small to extra-extra-large scale.
Far too self-conscious to ask for help, or even appear confused enough to draw the attention of an employee who might offer to help, Candace picked a few bras that weren’t too ugly and ducked into a fitting room. The basic flesh-toned one was too tight. A powder blue one had such a short band she couldn’t get it hooked around her ribs. The third was bright pink, with very basic straps, band, and unadorned cups, but Candace found it almost too daring. When it clasped perfectly around her torso, hugging and supporting her chest snugly, she wasn’t sure whether to feel elated or dismayed.
Candace grabbed two medium tees and a pair of gym shorts to wear around her apartment, and a YA fantasy novel to give some variety to her shopping basket. On her way to the counter, she wondered how many of her bras at home were also uncomfortably tight, and she strolled back to the lingerie section. The pink one in her basket read 32C on its band. The cipher meant nothing to Candace, but she flipped through the bras hanging on the leftmost hook until she found two more with the same designation.
Satisfied and unsettled by her selections, Candace made her way to the checkout counter. On her way, a rack of dresses caught her eye. Most were ugly bridesmaid frocks and cocktail gowns she’d never have an opportunity to wear, but one stood out. The top was a white blouse with puffed sleeves, and the skirt was a light mauve with a corset-like bodice. It reminded Candace of an anime she’d seen in high school about computers that looked like humans. With a little tweaking, it would make the perfect cosplay. The dress by itself cost less than the three bras, so Candace carefully draped it into her basket and headed to the counter.
***
The weekend after she took the entrance exam at LVCC, Candace’s apartment had never been so clean. Every few minutes, she refreshed her email. When she saw nothing but loan offers from banks and promotions from stores to whom she’d naively given her email address, Candace twitched and shifted in her seat until the nervous energy became too much and she started a new task. She shook out all her rugs on the balcony, swept every corner, and scrubbed the kitchen and bathroom linoleum. The only clothes she owned that weren’t washed and hung or folded were the ones on her body. She cleaned out her fridge, her cabinets, scrubbed every dish, and hauled a bag of expired food down to the dumpsters.
Finally, Candace ran out of things to clean. She found episodes of Chobits online and rewatched them for research, refreshing her email app every minute or so. At last, an email arrived from Lake Valley. It began, “Congratulations…”
***
Skylar’s squeal of glee seemed to split Candace’s eardrums, earning them sidelong glances from the other girls in Headlights’ changing room.
“That’s so awesome!”
Heat rose in Candace’s cheeks. “Thanks…”
Skylar chattered away about classes, tests, balancing schedules, and college life as if Candace were going away to a big school from the movies with sorority houses and parties, complete with keg stands and beer pong. Candace half-listened while they changed, offering small smiles and murmurs of acknowledgement while her friend gushed. Brushing invisible dust off her skirt, she found Skylar staring at her.
“…What?”
Skylar glanced around the changing room, which was now empty save for the two of them. She dropped her voice to a whisper, nevertheless. “I can see your bra.”
Candace flushed from her ears to her collarbone, and she craned her neck to see herself, plucking at the shoulder straps of her new pink bra and the baby blue tank, trying to cover the former with the latter.
Her friend chuckled. “It’s fine. I’m sure Linda won’t mind—these outfits are kind of the point of this place. I’m just surprised you went with something so bold. Where were you hiding those things when we worked at Joe’s?”
Candace crossed her arms over her chest, molten heat coursing through her veins. “I wasn’t… I didn’t…”
Skylar rested a hand on her shoulder. “Relax, Cand. Deep breaths.” She let her hand drop as Candace inhaled. “That’s it. In, two, three. Out, two, three.”
Candace breathed, trying to ignore her friend’s gaze as Skylar watched her chest rise and fall. She’d put the pink bra on that morning without a second thought, and hadn’t brought another one. Maybe Linda would let her run home.
“Hey,” Skylar said. “Did you pick out a costume for the next con?”
The image of that perfect “ugly” prom dress filled Candace’s mind, pushing her existential horror to a distant scream.
“Oh my gosh, yes. I found this dress at the thrift store…”
Skylar held Candace’s phone, looking at a screenshot of Chii. “What’s this show called again?”
“Chobits, it’s about a guy who finds this ‘persocom’ and brings her home.”
“Like an android?”
“Sort of, yeah.”
“Well, anyway, I think it’ll be great. What are you going to do about these ear things?”
“Oh! I found someone online who makes them. It’s a little expensive, but I’m terrible with crafts, and I’d need a 3D printer to make ones like she does.”
Skylar smiled. “You’re really getting into this, huh?”
“I guess so…”
“Now you just need a wig.”
“A wig?”
Skylar’s brows scrunched together. “Yeah. With Lain, your own hair worked perfect. This girl has super long blonde hair.”
“I didn’t even think of that…”
“There are a bunch of places that sell wigs. You might have to cut it, though.”
“Really?”
Skylar chuckled at Candace’s panicked expression. “It’s not that hard. I’ll come over and help you with it if you want.”
Candace sighed as some of the tension left her shoulders. “That would be awesome.”
Skylar gave her a one-armed hug. “Of course. Now, come on. Let’s get out there before Linda sends someone to find out what’s taking us so long.”
Panic threatened to overwhelm Candace again, but she pushed it down as best she could. Linda did not let her run home to change, especially in her Headlights uniform, but Candace somehow got through her shift without dying of embarrassment anyway. She broke her record for tips in a single shift, making more than enough to order the custom headband ears and a blonde wig for her next cosplay.