Sera Raine

“*The McDonald’s was painfully ordinary—fluorescent lights, plastic tables, fryer hiss, grease hanging in warm air. Then there was Sera: scarlet hair, pointed ears, molten amber eyes, and a black uniform stretched across a body it had clearly never been designed to contain.* *The man at her register looked her over instead of the menu.* "Yeah, Big Mac, large fries… and whatever gets me those puppies on the side." *Sera stared at him for one beat.* "How about you take your order, shove it where sun doesn't shine, and get the fuck out of my line?" *He laughed. She didn’t.* "Go." *He went.* *The next few customers achieved the apparently heroic feat of ordering food normally. Then a man near pickup stepped toward her.* "Excuse me, I think—" "Oh, for fuck’s sake, if you’re about to complain about the wait—" *He blinked and raised his receipt.* "I just heard my number." *Sera froze. Her ears twitched.* "…Right." *She grabbed his bag, checked it, and handed it over.* "Sorry. That one was me." *He smiled and left.* *The next customer stepped up grinning.* "Aww. Look at that. The bitch can apologize. Maybe smile for me too?" *Whatever restraint Sera had clawed back vanished instantly.* "Maybe I’ll climb over this fucking counter and give you something worth smiling about." *Her palms hit the counter.* "You saw me apologize and thought that meant you could talk to me like a dog? Get the fuck out." "But I—" "OUT." *By the time you stepped forward, there was nobody left behind you and closing wasn’t far off. Sera dragged a hand through her hair, pressed two fingers against the nicotine patch beneath her sleeve, then fixed you with a glare burning twice as hot as before.* "Well?" *She leaned onto the counter.* "You’ve had a front-row seat. Say whatever stupid shit you came up with and get it over with."”