A/N: I was listening to "Mine" by Taylor Swift and then this happened. I just...I don't even know. It's not even that great, but whatever. Who doesn't want an AU where Drew waits tables and May is a disgruntled customer, am I right?

Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon, Italian Renaissance diplomat Machiavelli, Prego marinara sauce, or any other proper nouns in this fic. I don't even own a functioning computer, for God's sake.


Dining alone in a restaurant is extremely awkward. After being used to large group dinners with friends for so many years, May had become accustomed to associating restaurants with excitement. But sitting in a diner by herself at six p.m. on a Friday was beginning to change her mind. It just felt a little pathetic.

And what was worse! It was Valentine's Day! Of all the days that she could choose to go to a restaurant alone, she just had to choose today. Though, she didn't exactly want to be here. Not that this tiny corner diner wasn't certainly...quaint, but it wasn't her desired destination. A new Italian restaurant had just opened up two blocks down, and May had been dying for some noodles today. Unfortunately, the restaurant was full of happy couples sharing pasta dishes, and May probably wouldn't be able to get a table for herself for several more hours. She had made her way to this diner afterwards, her expression bleak. Sitting alone at a diner and sadly looking at the menu she had found at the table, she probably looked like she had just been stood up on the most romantic day of the year.

Finally a boy with an half-apron on walked over to her, a pen in one hand and notepad in the other. He looked to be about her age, 20, maybe a year or two older. His hair was an odd green color which May found herself staring at.

"Hi my name is Drew and I'll be your server today. Our soup of the day is French Onion and we are offering chocolate lava cakes half-off for Valentine's day. Can I start you off with a drink?"

Her server looked bored. His eyes were practically glazed over during his speech, and he recited it all in a single breath. He'd probably been saying it all day. He looked down at her with an expression of boredom mixed with what May guessed was disdain for his job.

"Um," she muttered, feeling slightly intimidating by his stare. "Do you have any lemonade?"

"Regular or pink?"

May thought for a moment. "What's the difference?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "I don't know? One is pink and the other isn't? Does it really matter?"

May put her hands up. "Sorry. Jeez, it was just a question. I'll have regular, I guess."

He scribbled for a moment on his notepad.

"Do you know what you want to eat?"

May looked down at her menu in panic. "Uhhh..."

"I'll be back."

May watched him as he walked away. Well, that was rude. She wondered what his problem was.

She figured that she might as well be ready to order when he got back, to avoid more snark. May scanned the menu, and was disappointed to find there wasn't one pasta dish. As if her day couldn't get any worse.

Her drink was suddenly placed in front of her, and when she looked up her server already had his pen poised on his notepad.

"What can I get for you?"

"Um, well, I didn't really get a lot of time to look..."

"How much time do you need? The menu is like two pages!"

May couldn't take it any more. She closed her menu quickly, wishing it would snap shut but instead being left with pathetic wubble noise as the cheap plastic rippled on contact.

"That's it. I don't know what I did to piss you off, but as a server it's your job to be kind to your customers! There's literally no one in here, so it shouldn't matter if I take more than 30 seconds to pick what I want to eat. Have fun getting no tips today, because I'm outta here, and no one else is going to pay you with that bad attitude."

She grabbed her purse and stood abruptly, prepared to make a dramatic exit. And a dramatic exit it was, because in trying to slide out of her booth and shoulder past her rude server, she managed to knock her regular lemonade over and spill it all over herself.

"Perfect."

May wasn't surprised to find her ex-server muttering the word in unison with her. Now she had wet clothes, and he had to clean up the sticky drink from the booth cushions and tabletop. It seemed they were both having a crappy day.

She discarded her red cardigan and was prepared to continue her undignified exit (now more of a retreat, actually), when the boy placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, don't go, okay? I'm sorry. I was being an ass to you when you'd done nothing wrong. Go sit in another booth and I'll be with you in after I get this cleaned up."

May looked down at her soaked clothes and sighed. She supposed she might as well stay. At least then her embarrassment would be concentrated to one location instead of having to walk throughout the city looking like she wet herself. She picked up her damp menu and sat down at a different booth, doing her best to hide her face in embarrassment.

After about five minutes he returned, pen poised once more and face looking apologetic.

"Sorry about back there. I—I'm not having a great day."

May wanted to remain angry, but didn't have it in her. She could empathize with him, for her day wasn't going well either. That didn't excuse his rude behavior, but at least he'd had the grace to apologize for it.

"It's fine, we all have bad days," she said with a tired smile, eyes scanning the menu once more as she anticipated his next question. Literally nothing on this menu looked appealing to her though. She had her heart set on noodles.

He surprised her by continuing to talk about himself. "Valentine's Day is just a sore spot for me lately. I was supposed to have today off to be with my girlfriend tonight, but she dumped me last week. I guess I took the shift thinking I would be okay with it, though clearly I'm not."

May's eyes widened in pity. Dumped a week before Valentine's Day? How sad! She wanted to comfort him, but he was already schooling his expression back into indifference.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter. I shouldn't have been rude to you anyway. I don't expect you give me a good tip after all of that, but the least I can do is get you a good meal."

May sighed. "I should really just pay for the drink and go. I honestly didn't plan on eating here today, but Machiavelli's was so packed that I had to choose somewhere else."

Her server—she squinted at his name tag again—Drew, snorted.

"You really thought you were going to get into Machiavelli's on Valentine's Day?"

"I forgot, okay!" May crossed her arms and huffed. "I don't have a boyfriend, so it's not like I really need to remember." She realized how bitter her statement sounded, and it occurred to her that admitting your unhappy relationship status to a stranger on Valentine's Day seemed pathetic. Even more pathetic than eating alone. "Anyways, I just wanted to go there for the noodles. But it was too crowded so I was forced to come here instead." She eyed the menu mournfully. "And you don't have noodles."

He was laughing now, and May couldn't help but think he was laughing at her.

"What?" she asked almost angrily.

"Oh, nothing," he said with a snicker. His nose scrunched up when he laughed, and the fact that May found it endearing only made her angrier.

"Tell me!"

"It's just-" he stopped to snort again, "-you're by yourself on Valentine's Day, and you've been stood up by noodles."

May scowled. "You know, if you were trying to be nicer to make up for earlier, you're doing a terrible job!"

He smiled and waved his hand at her. "Oh come on, I'm not trying to be mean. I'm alone on Valentine's Day too remember?" She prepared to snap at him anyways for laughing at her, but he interrupted her. "So there isn't anything else on the menu you'll eat? You're my only customer. I'd hate for you to leave me here by myself."

May sighed and looked at the menu once more. She picked the first thing she saw on the menu. "A Greek salad, I guess," she said with a shrug.

"You want pita bread on the side?"

"Sure, why not."

Drew left with her order, and May was left alone again. She scrolled through her phone and looked at her contacts sadly. She considered calling Ash or Brock. While it's not like they could come visit her, it would be nice to hear from them. Moving to the other side of the country for a semester internship seemed exciting at the time, but after other a month of being by herself in a strange place, she missed her friends from her University terribly. The other project coordinators she worked with were much more experienced than her, and it made them haughty. May felt that in the short time that she had been in this city she had lost a lot of her confidence instead of gaining it.

It didn't help that she seemed to have a difficult time making friends. Back at home, she was friends with everyone. She supposed that was Ash's doing, since he had such an outgoing personality, but she thought that being friends with him had somehow opened her up as well. She wondered if maybe that meant the only way she would be outgoing was with Ash around. The thought made her frown.

She was brought out of her reverie when she heart a crash coming from the kitchen. Drew's head popped up in the pick-up window, and he appeared to be rubbing his head. When he turned to see her looking at him, his face grew pink.

"It's nothing! Everything's fine! Your food with be out in a minute!"

He certainly didn't look fine, but he seemed embarrassed, so she decided not to comment. She idly wondered why he was back in the kitchen. Shouldn't a cook be making her food?

A couple minutes later he was exiting the kitchen with a tray, looking slightly worse for the wear. His hair was mussed and he seemed a little sweaty, and May couldn't help but wonder what could have happened back there to make him look so disheveled. She only ordered a Greek salad!

"Order up," he said, and put several dishes down in front of her.

She looked at her meal curiously. While one medium and small plate contained what she had ordered—a small salad and a piece of pita bread—there was a large bowl also set in front of her. Inside contained chunks of breaded chicken, a marinara sauce, what looked to be parmesan cheese, and noodles.

May was certainly confused, but she couldn't hide the bright smile that lit up her face.

"Where did this come from?" she asked Drew happily, fully prepared to dive into her meal.

He rubbed the back of his head and looked down. "It's nothing. I just took some of the egg noodles from tomorrow's soup of the day and put that a bowl with some chopped up chicken tenders and Prego. You seemed pretty upset about not being able to get Machiavelli's, and while this is probably pretty crappy in comparison, I just—I don't know. You don't have to eat it if you don't want to."

May laughed. "No, I'll definitely eat it. Thank you, Drew!"

If he wasn't red before, he certainly was now. It was really sweet, what he did for her, and while May wanted to say more, she physically couldn't when she had a bowl of noodles in front of her calling her name. She dug in without another word, letting out a happy little moan at the taste of her impromptu pasta meal.

"Well, I'll leave you to your meal, then," Drew muttered sheepishly, if not a little awkwardly, as he watched her inhale the meal he prepared for her. He set her receipt facedown on the table and nodded at her before leaving.

She nodded and smiled in his direction, her cheeks puffed out since they were filled with egg noodles and chicken. The meal certainly wasn't five star, but May honestly didn't care. Being able to eat noodles made her so happy that she didn't mind the fact that she was eating alone on Valentine's Day. A cute boy made her pasta, so she was perfectly content with that. She finished her makeshift pasta meal in no time at all and then took her time with her Greek salad and pita bread, finishing everything in all three dishes before sighing happily. May picked up the bill and left an appropriate amount of bills on the table for a tip (with a little extra) and made her way to the counter to pay.

Drew was there, his appearance fixed and his blush finally faded. He smiled at her an accepted her bill, ringing up her total while asking her standard server questions.

"Did you enjoy your meal?" he said idly, though he stole a quick glance at May before quickly returning his gaze to the cash register.

"Yes," she said good-naturedly, hoping she could hear the sincerity in her voice. "It was delicious, thank you."

Drew reached beneath the counter for something, and when he pulled his hand back up, there was a rose in his hand. It was one of those artificial ones made of terry cloth and plastic that are often bought on Valentine's Day by children for their crushes. She was wondering if he was going to ask her to buy it for pocket change or something, but was surprised when her server held the rose out to her.

"For you," he said with a smile.

May stammered a little at the gesture. "N-no thank you, I'll just pay for my meal, thanks!"

"It's not for you to buy," he said with a quick flip of his bangs. The bashful boy who made her pasta earlier seemed to have vanished and left this charming young man in his wake. Now May felt like blushing. "We're supposed to give these to the pretty girls who come in today."

May tried not to let her face fall, thinking of all the other people he might have already given cheap roses to.

"Well, thank you again for the lovely meal. Your noodles were great."

She turned around and prepared to exit the restaurant when Drew stopped her a second time from leaving.

"Wait! You forgot your receipt!"

May honestly didn't care all that much about it, but when she grabbed at small slip of paper she was surprised to find that written over her order and total in pen was the boy's phone number and a small note.

In case you ever want to go out for real food with a real date, call me.

May looked back up at him, and the cool-guy facade had cracked, leaving behind red-faced boy who refused to make eye contact with her. This was the boy who made her makeshift pasta, not the boy who handed out roses. She looked down at his smooth cursive note then back up to him before biting her lip and smiling.

"What time does your shift end?"

Maybe she could be bold on her own.