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“Did you know Generico’s never had a birthday party in his life?”
Kevin looked over at Sami Zayn, who was running his hands through his hair and looking distressed. “Huh?”
“I mean, it’s not that much of a surprise, I guess. Growing up on the streets like that. He knows the day, but it’s like he had no idea anyone would celebrate his being born. It’s just a fucking shame, you know?”
“I guess,” said Kevin, peeling his banana.
Sami sat up straight as an idea hit him, his eyes bright. “We should throw him a party. You and me. A surprise party. Everyone will be together for the show that day anyway.”
“Oh man, I dunno,” said Kevin. “That seems like a lot of work.”
“The two of us could do it.”
“And it’s your birthday too,” Kevin pointed out.
Sami made a dismissive gesture, shooing away the very idea. “He deserves it more than I do. And just think of how happy he’d be,” he said coaxingly. “Come on. Just imagine how he’d smile.”
“Oh, damn it,” said Kevin, knowing perfectly well that once you imagined Generico happy you’d have to do whatever it took to achieve it.
Look, Kevin knew that he was kind of a mediocre friend, okay? A great wrestler, but not the best friend. He was rough and short-tempered and sometimes a little unreliable. But somehow he’d ended up with not one but two friends who were warm and sunny and friendly and--for some reason--seemed to think he was a great guy. Not just a great wrestler, but a great guy. Two friends. Now and then--not often, but now and then, fleetingly, in the middle of the night when he went to use the bathroom and caught sight of his face in the mirror--Kevin suspected that was about three more friends than he deserved.
“You’ll help, right?” Sami said. And smiled at him.
“Oh, damn it,” Kevin muttered again.
Whatever you do, don’t let it slip to Generico or you’ll ruin the surprise. Sami had been very clear. So when Generico made a beeline toward him, Kevin quickly folded up the guest list he was working on and shoved it in his bag.
“Kevin!” Generico threw his arms around him, and Kevin allowed it this one time. Then his motions turned serious and he held his hands up in the air. “Sami,” he said. “Birthday.”
“Uh,” Kevin said in a panic, but Generico was going on, making a motion like throwing confetti, tapping his own chest proudly, then pounding Kevin’s chest.
“You. Me. Birthday party. For amigo. For Sami.”
“You want me to help you plan a birthday party for Sami?” Kevin asked with a growing sense of deja vu.
Generico beamed at him and nodded, throwing his arms around him. Kevin allowed it this one time.
“I’m really busy that day,” Kevin said, stalling frantically.
Generico looked sad.
“But..I...can probably help you, I guess.” Kevin felt the words dragged from him at the sight of Generico’s wobbling lower lip. Damn it.
Generico leaped to his feet in joy, sketching out the details of his muy big party with huge sweeping gestures of his arms, knocking over a coat rack and a chair in the process. It would, if Kevin was reading him right, involve a piñata, a four-layer chocolate cake with vanilla frosting, and a mariachi band.
“Is that really how they celebrate birthdays in Mexico?” Kevin asked dubiously.
Generico shrugged. Sometimes Kevin wasn’t sure Generico had a really good understanding of how the average person lived in Mexico, but he supposed growing up semi-feral on the streets of Tijuana could do that to you. “Very bueno.”
“Okay, I guess I can...call to order the cake?” Kevin couldn’t imagine how Generico was going to make his order clear across a phone line. “And help you with the guest list?” He’d just have to split it in half now--some to Sami’s party and some to Generico’s. He could do this. He just had to help with some of the details and make sure Sami got to his party and Generico got to his party on time. What could possibly go wrong?
“Kevin! Amigo! Gracias!” Generico threw his arms around him, alight with joy.
Kevin allowed it this one time.
As it turned out, a lot of things could go wrong, Kevin thought dolefully as he ran along the sidewalk, sweating in the July heat. For example, Sami could book a bar and Generico a Mexican restaurant four blocks apart. And then--
“There you are, Kev!” Sami grabbed his arm the second he came in the door. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Help me with the chairs, would you? I asked the Bucks, but they're useless--I mean, who the hell sets up chairs by superkicking them?”
Kevin arranged the chairs around the tables while Sami fiddled with napkins and other wrestlers drifted in and out. “Um, I’ll be right back, okay?” he said when he was done.
Sami looked distracted. “Sure, I guess. Do you know where Generico is? I’ll need you to fetch him soon.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Kevin said, edging for the door. “No prob.”
Once out of Sami’s sight, he broke into a run again, heading back to the Mexican restaurant. The florist halfway between gave him an odd look as he went by for the fifth time in an hour, but he had neither time nor energy to spare to flip her off.
“Kevin!” Generico was looking comically overwhelmed as he tried to direct the staff of the restaurant. He was speaking Spanish, but none of the waiters seemed to understand him. “No cake. No cake, Kevin!”
“Shit. Are you sure you’re not better off without one? I mean, a cake at a wrestling event…” Generico stared at him, his eyes filling with tears. “Okay, let me call them again.” Moments later it had become clear that someone needed to go pick up the cake. Luckily the bakery was right next to the bar Sami was at. “I’ll get it,” Kevin explained to Generico.
“And Sami?” Generico gestured, making clear that it was Kevin’s job to gather Sami up and deliver him to this surprise party.
“Don’t you have anyone else you can ask to do that?” Kevin looked around at the wrestlers milling about, drinking beer and arm wrestling and getting into belching contests. Holy shit, he was the most reliable person there. What a horrible thought. “Okay, never mind, I’ll deal with it.”
The same stretch of sidewalk; he was getting good at knowing where the obstacles would be as he ran along it. The bakery was just past the bar, he just needed to--
“Kevin!” Sami lurched out of the bar and grabbed him as he went by. “Where the hell have you been? Where the hell is Generico? The party's started and he's not here!”
Kevin pulled away. “I gotta--this is--I’m going to go get him, okay?”
“Hurry up, Kev!” Sami’s voice followed after him as he charged toward the bakery.
He had to find an alternate route with the cake so Sami wouldn’t see him, trotting as fast as he dared with three layers of delicious-looking chocolate and vanilla frosting cradled in his arms, trying not to sweat on it. The odds were against him, but somehow, somehow, he arrived at the restaurant with the cake intact. The mariachi band was playing and Jay Briscoe was trying to deliver an enzuigiri kick to the hanging piñata.
“Cake,” Kevin panted, handing it to a waiter and then doubling over, his hands on his knees, catching his breath.
“Donde estas Sami?” Generico almost wailed. He slithered to the floor so he could meet Kevin’s eyes, tapping his wrist and gazing imploringly at him. I ask so little of you, Kevin. I ask so little and I put up with so much, and the only thing I want is for this party to go well, and you’re failing me.
Sometimes Kevin really hated that he could read Generico so well.
“Come...with...me,” Kevin wheezed, grabbing Generico’s arm. “Just...you come too, and we’ll get him together.” Generico threw out his arms to take in the barely-contained chaos of the party. “I know, I know, but--please?”
Generico crossed his arms and shook his head. “Sami,” he said.
Kevin wanted to collapse to the floor and kick his feet against the cool tiles. He wanted to scream. He wanted to grab that cake and eat a hunk out of the middle, then throw the rest on the ground. But it was Generico’s birthday, and Sami’s birthday. So he hauled himself to his feet and nodded wearily. “I’ll get him.”
He trotted heavily back toward the bar in the gathering dusk, passing the puzzled florist again, a sense of impending doom thickening around him as he went.
“Look, Sami, I know I don’t have Generico yet, but--”
Sami cut him off before he could even finish his defensive bluster. “Damn it, Kev!” He was nearly vibrating with rage. “I thought I could count on you! I thought I could rely on you! I trusted you to help, and you keep disappearing and leaving me alone, and you haven’t even brought Generico here!”
Kevin held up his hands as if Sami had tried to punch him. “I’m trying--”
“No you’re not! You never really do! You just keep vanishing, you’re never here when I need you--” Sami leveled an accusing finger at him and said with emphasis: “Kevin, you are a bad friend.”
Kevin felt his hands drop before the cold vehemence in Sami’s voice. “I--” His voice dried up. It was a very odd feeling. “I--” He didn’t have anything to say. “I’ll go,” he finally managed.
He trudged down the sidewalk in the dark, his feet heavy. Halfway back to the Mexican restaurant, he just stopped. He couldn’t take another step. What would even be the point? Generico was just going to be mad at him when he showed up without Sami--no, even worse, Generico would be disappointed in him. He’d look at Kevin with his eyes all big and sad behind the mask and his lower lip would wobble, and--
He was sitting on the curb now, though he had no memory of how he got there. The stars looked down on him, and Kevin knew what they saw. They saw a bad friend. And Kevin knew they saw the truth. He hadn’t even wanted to be a good friend, he was pretty sure that was out of reach. But if he could have been, for just one day, a mediocre friend…
Kevin put his head in his hands and, for an endless and agonizing time, was nothing but pain.
And then he heard his name called in stereo--a broken Mexican lilt in one direction, a slightly-nasal Canadian accent from the other. He felt two presences settle down beside him on the curb, one on either side. He buried his head in his crossed arms and refused to look up.
“Kevin,” Generico said, full of reproach but also full of affection, and Kevin felt an arm settle across his shoulders. He allowed it this one--oh fuck it, he welcomed it, he leaned into it, he almost sobbed under its steadying weight.
“Hey there, buddy,” said Sami, and Kevin felt his hand patting at his back in nervous little motions, more tentative than Generico as always. “I finally just called Generico and eventually we figured out what had happened. So we came looking for you.”
“We find you, Kevin,” said Generico.
“Great,” said Kevin, trying to put some snarl into it. “Now go away.” The sentence ended with a damp snuffle that he suspected contradicted the snarl entirely.
“Generico brought some cake,” said Sami. “And I picked up--” There was a brief pause and Kevin felt something placed behind his ear. Petals brushed his temple. Sami had put a fucking flower behind his ear.
“Cake, flowers, amigos,” said Generico. “Muy good party. Right here.”
“With your shitty friend,” Kevin muttered. “Go back and party with your good friends.”
Sami laughed. “Our good friends are partying just fine without us,” he said. “They don’t need us. Our shitty friend, on the other hand, is here and looks like he could use a piece of cake and some company, because he's gotten all worn out trying to make two different surprise parties work out right.”
Kevin raised his head slowly and looked at Sami, who had a fucking daisy tucked behind his ear. He looked at Generico, who held up a napkin-wrapped hunk of cake with his free hand.
“Kevin no bueno amigo,” Generico said cheerfully.
“What Generico means is you’re not a very good friend, it’s true,” Sami said. “But somehow you still manage to be a great friend at times.”
Kevin blinked a few times as the words sank in. Then he slung one arm around Generico and the other around Sami, and rose slowly to his feet, dragging them with him until he was at his full height. He took a deep, deep breath, filling his lungs with all the air he could, and lifted his head to address the sky.
“You hear that?” he bellowed at the stars, at the heavens, at the whole world. At himself and his doubts. At everyone except his two crazy friends who were letting him clutch them close. “Did you hear them say it? I knew it all along! I’m a great fucking friend!”