1 Chapter one

Lance died on a Thursday afternoon.

Well, not really, but he might as well have. He just got into a fight, again, but this time it was with this emo wannabe friend of Pidges. It wasn't even his fault! It was totally the emo kids fault. All him. No Lance. Well, maybe some Lance. Like 30% Lance. Ok, maybe it was more like 50%….

Anyways, it started out as a regular ol' day at his coffee shop.

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"Hunk! I'm leaving! Cover?" Lance shouted across the counter, already taking off his apron. "Yeah, it's not busy," Hunk waved him off. "Just hurry back before Shay comes!" Lance chuckled to himself. Shay was a regular at their cafe, and it seemed she had taken a liking to Hunk. Hunk had also seemed to be pretty fond of the girl as well, but he didn't like to be around her for too long by himself, it made him a nervous and babbling mess.

"You can count on it." Lance shot him a grin and grabbed the drink carrier full of caffeinated sugary concoctions and he was off. The bell chimed above him as he headed out into the mall.

Black Lion Brew was a small business his friend Allura owned and managed. It was a mix between a coffee shop and bakery—all the baked goods hand made by Hunk himself—and it had grown a lot of attention in the last few years. The shop was located inside of Altea Mall, and their shop happened to be a few stores down from the Hot Topic, where their friend Pidge worked. Hunk and Pidge had gone to school with him, and they had been friends since they could talk. Well, in Pidges case. They were a couple years younger than the two, but Lance thought of them as a younger sibling.

Speaking of, their tax for putting in a good word about him to Allura, he had to bring them coffee everyday at noon. Caramel macchiato, 6 pumps caffeine. Lance wouldn't be surprised if all they ran on was caffeine.

Lance swung open the doors decorated with posters and crude stickers, hearing the bell chime. The bell was quickly drowned out by "American Idiot" by Green Day blasting from all corners of the room and then some at the register. Lance wondered if that was on purpose, so you didn't have to actually talk to the cashier. Emo kids were weird.

Lance grinned as he saw Pidge across the room, they were mindlessly scrolling on their phone as their eyes drooped and shot open again, over and over. They had probably stayed up late again coding or whatever nerds do at 3:00 in the morning when you have work that day at 8. Lance waved his hand obnoxiously and called their name. Pidge looked up and practically drooled at seeing the coffee.

"Lance, do I ever tell you how much I appreciate you?" They said as they snatched the cup from him. He made no effort to try and hold it above their head to mess with them, he didn't want his hand bitten off. Rule #1 with Pidge, do NOT take their food/drinks unless you want a limb bitten off. Lance had made rules for how to act around people, like there was a time and a place for certain things, but sometimes he ignored that rule. He also made rules for how to behave around specific people. Hunks was; never try and argue with him, he just gets a sad puppy look, and never diss his cooking, not that he would because Hunks is an amazing chef.

"Not enough, but I think if you did I would think something possessed you. No offense." Lance patted their head, which earned a hiss. Pidge does that sometimes. Lance doesn't want to ask about it, because, again, he would rather keep his fingers. "How can you need more caffeine? How many Red Bulls is that on the desk? 7? 8?" He guessed. Pidge shrugged, "It's actually 11, but only two were me. The other ones are Keith's." They made it sound like he should know who that was, so he pretended to.

"Riiiiight, Keith…" Lance said slowly, trying to figure out where he knew him from. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it.

Lance took a seat next to Pidge behind the register, not caring that he did not, in fact, work here. The duo chatted for a few minutes before they heard to bell chime, signaling that someone was entering the store. Pidges face lit up as she saw them.

"Keith! How you been?" They exclaimed. "Why are you early for your shift?"

Lances head shot up, trying to see this infamous character. Lances eyes widened. He knew that guy! He was his sworn rival back in school—the Garrison—and were always going neck and neck in just about everything. Lances eyes narrowed.

Keith had on a dark red flannel jacket over his Harley Davidson shirt, and had it rolled up to his elbows. He was also wearing his signature fingerless gloves that had a little window on the back for whatever emo reason. His legs were on full display with those skin tight leggings, and Lance wondered where he got them, and if they would have his size. His wrists and neck were adorned with all kinds of jewelry, along with ear piercings. Keith still had his godawful mullet, but it had grown out since high school, and was now below his shoulders. Resting on top of that was a black beanie with a little green alien head on the front.

Keith looked over Pidges shoulder at Lance, pale blue meeting striking purple. Keith waved noncommittally. Lances eyes narrowed and his face pinched.

"Uhm, who exactly are you?" Lance scoffed, looking the accused up and down. But in a judgy way. Totally.

"Oh, uhm, I'm Keith, you?" Keith extended his hand.

"The names Lance? We went to the Garrison together? Swim team?" Lance offered, crossing his arms. How could he not remember him? THEY WERE RIVALS!

Keith's face scrunched up. "Oh. Ohhh, yeah, I remember you, I thought your name was Taylor?" Lance blushed out of embarrassment. "I- what-no no no. Noooo that was just a bit back in high school!" Lance rushed to explain. All throughout his Garrison days, his 'bit' was to tell everyone who was unfortunate enough to come into contact with him it; 'They call me the Tailor, because of the way I THREAD THE NEEDLE'

Lance groaned. Pidge wheezed. Keith just stood there with his hand still extended.

Lance looked at his hand before meeting his gaze again. Keith's face was no longer calm, his eyebrows were furrowed, but that was the only indication that he was upset. His face remained still. Lance reluctantly shook his hand.

If there was an award for the most awkward instance of prolonged eye contact, these two 'rivals' would be its reining champion.

"Uh huh." Keith said. He turned back to Pidge and explained that him and Axca traded shifts.

Lance stood up with a huff. "Alright suicide squad, I'm out." Pidge rolled their eyes. "You're just mad that Keith doesn't remember you from the Garrison." Lance stopped walking and whipped around. "Of course I am! We were rivals! You can't just forget your rival!" He pouted.

"I..never said we were rivals. I just thought you were really annoying, and always trying to one up me. Which never worked." Keith still had a stupid glare on his stupid face. Keith had what one would call REF. Resting emo face. "Well fuck you too mullet head! Speaking of which, why is it so greasy? What do you wash it with, peanut oil?" Lance turned back around, flipped them the bird and walked out, the bell jingling behind him.

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"..And then he said he never thought we were rivals! How could he say that, Hunk?" Lance was draped across a table, with his head hanging off the edge. He had been ranting about his encounter to Hunk for the last 10 minutes.

"That's rough, buddy." Hunk replied absentmindedly as he scurried around the kitchen adding eye of newt to the pastries or whatever witch craft shit he did to make the donuts so ridiculously fluffy. Lance had no idea, but he sure as hell knew Hunk wouldn't trust him with the knowledge of his sacred pastry recipes.

Maybe he should ask Hunk for a potion to cure all the unfortunate souls that have been cursed with mullets.