Ché Boulevard

Trevor had no interest in getting to know, spending time with, or having a meal in the vicinity of Lillian Schnell, not even after she told him secrets about Solitinuum and praised his girlfriend in some truly flattering ways.

Trevor had only agreed to Lillian's company in the first place at Elena's insistence. He'd been seeing Elena for a little over a month and liked her quite a bit, but enduring any level of scrutiny from her circle of friends felt beyond tedious. Furthermore, this Lillian woman suggested they meet at the overpriced Ché Boulevard for dinner. He would have preferred midday coffee or a quick pretzel outside his office or, best option, a permanent rain check.

When he arrived at the restaurant, Lillian was sitting at a table in the center of the dining section and facing the entrance. She was a tall and still woman a few years older than Elena, attractive in a stern high school principal kind of way. She looked up from her smartphone as Trevor approached her.

"Thanks for meeting me. I hope you're not the type of man that minds sitting with his back to the entrance."

He was that type, but he shook his head no.

"This is fine," he lied. "Good to see you again, Lillian," he lied again.

They had briefly met after a concert for a rock band that Elena's company represented. Trevor had been busy the night of the show, but picked up Elena afterward to spend the night at his place. Lillian had been her date in his absence, though she hardly seemed to fit into the band's demographic. Trevor would be the first to admit that he didn't either, though he might have made an effort to blend in.

"Do we have a waiter?" he asked.

"I ordered two Manhattans. I'll drink both if you'd prefer something else."

"No need. It's the best thing on the menu."

She smiled and glanced down at her smartphone again. The pre-ordering his drink thing annoyed Trevor, but bad phone manners would cause him to become outwardly irate. He began to say as much, but Lillian cut him off.

"I don't mean to be rude," she said. "It looks like the military have a Solitinuum sect cornered in San Diego. In the Gaslamp District, if you can believe that."

"I would have thought they'd be more at home in the zoo," Trevor said, though Lillian didn't acknowledge the attempted joke.

"Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" she asked.

Trevor gave her a brief rundown covering the basics: his education and job, favorite animal, a desire to travel more often. He was relieved that Lillian didn't stop him at the mention of his marriage and divorce to his ex-wife, Corina, thinking that would be the likely trap. However, he did realize during his discourse that it might be impolite if he didn't return the volley of interest, though he had none for Lillian Schnell.

And then she did it again. Trevor was in the middle of a story about a fire at a Japanese fish market he'd been in last fall and Lillian's eyes drifted down to her phone.

"Listen, Lillian," he said. "I don't want to be here."

She looked up to him and he continued.

"I only agreed to meet you because Elena was close to tears about how important you and her other friends are to her. But, you know, I already have friends and I'm not really looking to make more. No offense."

Lillian looked at Trevor with a sad seriousness as the server arrived with their cocktails.

"Sorry for the wait," he said, placing the drinks in front of them. "Are you ready to order?"

"Give us a minute," Lillian said.

The waiter nodded and left. Lillian lifted her glass.

"To old friends and to not making new ones," she said.

Trevor rolled his eyes and half-heartedly lifted his glass. They drank, the bitter sweetness a mild relief to Trevor. He looked around and was doubly relieved to see that he didn't know anybody sitting near them.

"Not bad," Lillian said, referring to the drink.

"Best thing on the menu," he replied stoically.

"Elena wanted to be here tonight," Lillian said. "I told her it would be a short evening, and it will be. I have no interest in dining here."

"That's a good move," Trevor said. "The food here sucks and they charge you out the ass for the privilege."

The sentence came out both louder and crasser than Trevor had intended, though he felt Ché Boulevard deserved every insult it got.

"Nevertheless," Lillian continued, "I needed this time with you. Elena speaks highly of you, but you don't seem like a team player."

"Mm, not looking to join a team."

He noticed that his right foot was tapping. He hadn't noticed music playing when he sat down, but it was suddenly very prominent. Lillian was still talking, but Trevor had to concentrate to place the band. Was it the same band whose concert he had missed that night? Didn't seem like the right atmosphere for it, but he would look it up later if he could remember any of the lyrics.

"Stay with me, Trevor," Lillian said.

"Huh?" Trevor realized that his vision had blurred a bit. "What's this song called?"

"We want the world to see us for what we truly are, Trevor. Solitinuum isn't what you and your worthless friends have heard about in the news. We are so much more than a sometimes dangerous public nuisance with tax exempt status. We are the future of this country's religion, health, and government."

The light in Trevor's peripheral vision began to dim. It took him a moment to realize the cause of the sensation, that the other people in the restaurant were gathering around his table. He reached for his drink, but someone had taken it.

"San Diego was a mistake. We've chosen this city to regroup because of Elena. She is special beyond any measure that you and your worthless friends will ever know. She will be our new haven's representative and its queen. And we can't have you standing next to her, no matter how much she wants that. You aren't for us."

Trevor steadied his hands, which were shaking now. He knew that something was wrong. People were chanting around him and he couldn't feel his legs. Somebody stood him up, or maybe it was two people. He wanted another drink, but the server was gone. Lillian Schnell was gone too, replaced by someone in a scary mask who was much too tall. Trevor's new dinner companion held a strange-looking steak knife in their hand, but nobody had ordered a steak.

In that moment, Trevor decided that he was going to break things off with Elena the next time he saw her. Her friends were too weird. The song began playing again and he tearfully admitted to himself that it wasn't any band or style of music he'd ever heard before. He glanced around the dining room through half-closed eyes at the grey twisted faces around him and decided something else.

He decided he was never coming back to Ché fucking Boulevard again.