Morning in Seymour Bay doesn’t start with an alarm clock. It starts with noise. From the street. From the sound of someone loudly rattling open metal shutters, from the wind pushing signboards as if checking how firmly they’re held, and from the distant cry of seagulls already fighting over something on the pier.
My room above the second-hand bookstore still feels like someone else's. It creaks under my feet like an old ship and smells of dust from thousands of old pages. But as soon as I open the window, that smell is overtaken by the salty ocean breeze. It’s a strange mix, but I’m starting to like it.
I looked out onto Ocean Ave. Right across is "Bob’s Burgers." That place is like a magnet. And across the street from it is "Pesto’s Pastas," all neon and fake Italian chic. Even from here, you can feel the tension between these two buildings. It’s like looking at a frozen battlefield where, instead of weapons, they use burger spatulas and marinara sauce.
I headed downstairs and walked into Bob’s. I needed coffee to finally wake up.
There’s a different rhythm there in the morning. None of that evening chaos. Just Bob, who looks like he hasn’t slept since 1998, and Linda, who seems to have an infinite supply of batteries inside.
— Be-e-en! — Linda’s voice rang out as soon as the bell above the door chimed. — You look like you need coffee... or a hug! Let’s start with coffee!
I just nodded. She poured me a full cup without even asking. Bob only briefly looked up from the grill. There’s something strange about this place: you feel both like a stranger and like you’ve been sitting here your entire life.
I took a sip, and at that moment, the door "jingled" again.
In they walked. Tina, Gene, and Louise. They didn’t just walk in — they occupied the space. They sat so close to me that I felt like I was under cross-examination. Tina sighed heavily and started writing something in her notebook, casting judgmental looks my way. Gene started tapping out some rhythm on the counter.
But Louise... she just stared. Her pink bunny ears looked like antennas catching my thoughts.
— So, newbie, — she began, squinting her eyes. — You’ve been here for three days. The town hasn’t spat you out yet. Interesting.
— I’m just drinking coffee, — I tried to defend myself.
— No one "just" does anything in this town, — she snapped. — There are rules here. And if you want to be part of Ocean Ave, you have to pass the test.
Louise leaned closer, her voice becoming low and serious: — Today at five. Wonder Wharf. By the fortune-teller machine. If you don’t show up, we’ll decide you’re a Jimmy Pesto spy. And spies don’t last long.
— I’m not a spy, — I sighed.
— You’ll prove that on the pier, — Tina added, not looking up from her notebook.
They swept out of the burger joint as fast as they had appeared. Bob finally walked over, wiping his hands on his apron. — Don’t mind them. They just... love drama. Though... I’d go to the pier if I were you. Just in case.
I stepped outside, holding my paper cup. I looked at the bright Pesto sign across the street, at Bob’s tired face through the glass, and realized one thing: Seymour Bay isn’t a place where you can just watch from the sidelines. You’re either given a burger and coffee, or you’re assigned a meeting on the pier that you can’t refuse.
At five, I’ll be at Wonder Wharf. Not because I’m afraid of Louise (well, maybe a little), but because I’m genuinely curious what kind of game this town is playing.
Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial fan project. I do not own the rights to the characters of "Bob's Burgers" or its artistic style. All rights belong to their respective owners .This story is a work of fan fiction created for entertainment purposes, featuring my original character, Ben Hale.
