25 How is My Mustache

The same dapper waiter came again when Aena mindlessly waved her hand to place their order.

He swiftly pulled out a notepad and waited patiently.

"I'll have the chips," Aena said, still gazing upwards, asking the gods why chips had to be so expensive.

"The Truffle Parmesan Chips with Garlic Aioli?" he asked eloquently.

"Yeah, those."

He nodded and quickly jotted it down.

"And for you?" He turned to Cassidy.

"I'll take the foie gras," Cassidy said. Although foie gras used to be quite controversial, the reliance on genetically modified ducks replaced force-feeding, rendering such an argument moot. This method was the Fosbury Flop of the food industry, rendering many previously exclusive dishes more accessible.

The industry had also grown due to new technology being able to simulate the natural environment. Rare delicacies could be grown commercially instead of being hunted in the wild. This caused prices to shift greatly: rather than being based on rarity, it was now more reliant on the expenses of upkeep.

"Any refreshments?"

"Just water," Aena replied. She was already spending enough as is. There was no more she was forking over more.

Cassidy got water too, following Aena's example.

"Is there anything else I can do for you ladies?" the waiter asked courteously, picking up the menus with the dexterity of a long-time professional.

Aena was about to say no so she could continue to wallow in her despair, but there had been an intrusive thought bothering her since earlier. With all her cognitive process calculating her budgeting after this meal, there was none left to care about other things. As a result, she impulsively blurted it out.

"That mustache. Is it real?" she asked, finally turning to look at the man. Or rather his mustache.

It was thin, the hails twirled together, but it looked vivacious, obviously well-maintained. Every faculty member she had seen along the way wasn't only dressed in a similar outfit, but also beheld the same mustache.

Since there were growth serums available that stimulated facial hair regardless of one's genetics, she was wondering if the mustaches were a requirement that came with the job description.

The man was surprised at the unusual question, but Cassidy even more so. Aena could see in her peripheral vision that Cassidy was in her default mode, but her eyes shook, growing wide.

"I'm glad you asked," the man said, stroking his mustache. "Yes, it's 100% natural, unlike some frauds out there," he shook his head in disappointment.

"They don't know the lengths I go to for this mustache!" he exclaimed. "I style it with MoGlow lotion every single day and night. I spend thirty minutes in front of the mirror every single morning to ensure every single strand is styled perfectly!"

"Then I use essential oils to protect the hairs, followed by a generous dosage of deep cleaning to get the dirt and grime out."

The man blabbered on and on about his great mustache and the daily effort and money to support such a wonder. Aena listened attentively, captivated by the man's dedication.

"I don't understand! It's comparable to the eighth wonder of the world!" he said passionately.

"I can see that," Aena said, nodding in agreement. "It reminds me of something I've seen before."

Aena paused for a second, trying to remember where she had seen such an otherworldly mustache. She vaguely recalled a certain textbook.

"Hitler? I believe he had a similar mustache," Aena said.

"I think I saw it in some important textbook. Maybe it was on the wonders of the world. Either way, it must've been something of importance. You truly own a wonderful mustache, sir," Aena said honestly.

Tears started leaking from the man's eyes, his body shaking silently.

Aena immediately jumped to her feet.

"Hey, you alright?" Aena asked, alarmed.

"Yes… yes, I'm alright," he quickly responded. "It's just that—" he choked on his words.

"No one has ever been so nice to me before. They've never mentioned my mustache."

He shook a sad fist in the air. Why did the world have to be so cruel? It really was unfortunate.

"They always ask how I am, but they never ask how is my mustache," part of his words were unintelligible from his sobbing, but Aena could infer.

Aena watched him with compassion. What a poor man. He seemed like a good guy too. She lightly patted him on the back and smiled.

"Don't worry, at least I noticed your mustache."

Aena spied Cassidy giving her a dark look, so she quickly pulled her hand back and sat back down. The waiter quickly regained his composure and took out a handkerchief from his back pocket, wiping away the snot and tears accompanied by a snorting sound. His face regained its professional demeanor, and Aena wouldn't have known he cried except for the redness around his eyes.

"Thank you," he told Aena once again and left to deliver their order.

It was quiet for a while after that. Aena was thankful that the dark look was no longer present on Cassidy's face, and she was too afraid to ask about it directly.

If she had water she would be pretending to be sipping it every two seconds, but unfortunately, she did not have that option to rely on.

To Aena's disbelief, Cassidy was the one to break the silence.

"So you ordered an appetizer?" Cassidy said, leaning her cheek against her fist, her lips pulled up into a smile.

Aena felt personally attacked. So what if she had no money?

"I don't really eat much," Aena replied defensively.

"Hmmm. Is that so?"

Of course, Aena wouldn't outright say she didn't want to pay for it. That would be pretty embarrassing. She had invited Cassidy, not the other way around. Wait. Why did she even care about that? She was pretty shameless normally.

"I might eat more if you pay for me," Aena said hintingly.

"Of course," Cassidy said. "Eat as much as you want."

Aena couldn't tell if she was joking or not. She didn't seem like the type to joke, but then again, Aena had been surprised so many times already.

At that moment, the waiter came back with their food.