Here Comes the Sun {Open}

[Era Kastrati]

There were, of course, certain things that Era didn't like about her job, but right now she wasn't thinking about any of them.

"Little darling, it's been a long, cold, lonely winter," she sang, a giant grin on her face. "Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here..."

It felt so good to be singing like this. The song was in a style that wasn't really in fashion, and it was substantially older than Era's parents, but it was bright and cheery and a joy to sing. She had heard it by chance--well, one could hardly miss the Beatles during even the most superficial study of modern British culture such as Era had undertaken when she had first become interested in the place--and it had interested her enough to learn about it.

"Here comes the sun!" the Albanian declaimed delightedly, before pausing for a measure to let a brief instrumental riff shine through. "Here comes the sun, and I say, it's all right!"

Some nights they sang darker songs, but tonight someone had put in a request for a "happy" song. It hadn't been hard for Era to convince the musicians to perform this one with her. After all, it was difficult to think of a happier song.

"Little darling, the smile's returning to the faces! Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here..."

As she sang those lines, Era scanned the restaurant's patrons for smiling faces, returning every smile she saw. She wondered who had requested a happy song, and why. She might never know; tame little everyday mysteries like that were part and parcel of this kind of work, but it interested her to wonder. Sometimes the person who requested a song would reveal themselves later, though. It would be interesting to see what happened. In the meantime...

"Here comes the sun!" Four notes, strummed and whistled. "Here comes the sun, and I say, it's all right!"

[Charlotte Delprat]

With several months experience of sneaking out at night to spray paint under her belt, Charlie was becoming pretty good at assessing her surroundings. It wasn’t just the police that she had to worry about (although they were a priority) but other night creatures like herself who, for whatever reason, were also roaming. She had learnt to periodically look up from her graffiti-ing to check what was going on around her, and to how slip away if anything looked even remotely unsettled. The danger of course remained, but that was where the thrill was.

On this particular night she had spotted several guys on the other end of the street making their way towards her. They couldn’t be much older than Charlie herself but she still didn’t want to get in their way. Knowing that they would give chase if she ran, she instead ducked into a nearby restaurant where they couldn’t get to her without at least several dozen witnesses.

Fortunately the restaurant was the sleazy sort that didn’t bat an eyelid at a hooded child appearing without her parents in the dead of night. As long as she could pay no one would ask awkward questions. Charlie ordered a lemonade and while she was sipping it she watched the band play for the patrons.

“Here comes the sun and I say, it’s alright!” sang the lead singer, a big smile on her face. The patrons were smiling back at her as the song washed over them. It was a nice song, faintly familiar. Charlie did miss the sunshine here in London, back at her old home the sun was nearly always there. Strong, fierce, warming your very bones. No so in this part of the world where clouds and rain were dominant.

Without thinking Charlie’s eyes began to close. It was very late and the adrenalin that usually kept her awake was fading. As the song played out Charlie fell asleep, her head cushioned on her paint stained arms, dreaming of sunshine and blue skies. Her lemonade sat forgotten.        

[Era Kastrati]

During the course of the song, Era caught sight of a somewhat small child sitting down at a table. The kid (boy? girl? she couldn't tell from this distance) wore a paint-splattered hoodie and seemed to be alone. Era watched the child, who seemed to be enjoying the music, out of the corner of her eye. The child looked excited at first, but a few minutes later (around the point where Era was singing, "Sun, sun, sun, here it comes!") slumped over on the table in a way that looked just a little unnerving.

At the close of the song, Era stayed on the stage just long enough to make an excuse implying that she wanted a moment of quiet, before going over to check on the kid she had seen. On one hand, it was late and small children normally wouldn't be awake at an hour like this, so it was possible that the kid had just fallen asleep; on the other, there was always at least a slim chance that something had gone actually wrong. If the kid was actually hurt or poisoned or something, it would be better to find out as soon as possible so that maybe she could help.

Era approached the little paint-stained lump on the table, next to an abandoned lemonade, and gently shook the child's shoulder. It was warm and she could feel the kid breathing, so that was a good sign. "Hej, fëmijë," she said, her tone gentle, before mentally realigning herself to switch back to English. She wasn't quite sure how her native language had crept in, except that she automatically associated talking to kids with her own childhood. "Kid. Hey, kid. Are you okay there? Is everything all right?"

Chances were, everything would be just fine. Era just wanted to be absolutely sure that someone so much younger than the usual clientele wasn't having anything wrong. She certainly didn't want anything bad to befall a guest on her watch.