Enjoy! :)

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Spot, Race, Boots, and Crutchy have been staring at the TV for hours now, watching this show with four faces they know all too well.

"How did they do it?" Boots asks. "How did they get famous?"

Race shrugs. "I don't know. Almost makes me wish I went wherever they went."

"Race!" Spot makes to slap him.

"What?! I wouldn't change ending up in 2011 for the world, however it would be nice to be famous with some money and not needing to worry about bills or if insurance will cover our surgeries and hormones."

"That is true."

Crutchy looks. "Yer...yer what?"

"Our gender reassignment surgery," Race explains. "I know the last time you saw me in 1899 I was a boy who wasn't born a boy. But in this modern age? They can give me hormones to make me go through the same body changes yours did, and also surgeries to get rid of certain things and add certain things."

"It's really good that we had Rain to help up," Spot adds.

"Oh yes. They were our angel sent del cielo."

"Rain?" Boots questions curiously. He remembers hearing that name a little at lunch but not too much.

"They helped us get on our feet when we got here," Spot explains. "They helped us get IDs, jobs, insurance, and our first apartment. They also helped raise funds for what our insurance couldn't cover, so it's only because of them that we were able to get the hormones and surgeries. All successful, thankfully."

"We still keep in touch with them all the time," Race adds. "Say, we should probably introduce you guys. They would love to know we have friends, no matter how much an age gap."

"We keep saying they because Rain is neither a man or a woman," Spot explains. "Yeah, I know that we were taught that there were only two genders back in 1899, but believe me, there are so many more."

Crutchy and Boots realize they have more to learn than they could ever have imagined.

"So...how do we find them?" Boots asks, pointing to the four dancing newsies on the screen.

"Good question!" Race responds cheerfully. "In truth? I have absolutely no idea at all."

----------------------------------------------------

"So...why are we goin' to your guys' work again?" Crutchy asks.

"Well, we've come to realize that whenever we're stuck, sometimes indulging in the mundane can really help us out," Spot explains. "Sometimes the extra domesticity motivates your brain to think outside the box."

"Also I reaaally wanna show you guys where we work," Race adds. "It's our own small business. Nah, we don't make much, but I honestly can't think of anything else I'd rather do."

Boots stares at the sign up above. "Cat Café For All. What's a cat café?"

Race grins. "You're about to find out."

There are cats everywhere.

Crutchy and Boots both gasp with delight.

Boots starts running up to a really fluffy orange cat, Crutchy waits for a smaller gray one with folded ears to come to him.

"So in case you haven't realized, a cat café is a place that sells coffee and tea and little pastries and whatnot, also there are cats everywhere," Race explains.

There is also a bunch of rainbows and flags that are pink, blue, and white; yellow, white, purple black; purple, white, green; pink, white, purple, black, blue; and many more. Spot and Race explain that these are flags to represent many identities, such as people who like the same gender or more than one gender, and for people like them who aren't the gender they were born as. There are also symbols of a rainbow infinity sign, to represent brains that think differently, like Race. There is also a collection of plush toys underneath it labeled "TBH Creatures," and Race promises he'll explain that later.

"Hiya little guy," Crutchy coos at the cat at his feet. "What kinda cat are youse?"

"That's a little Scottish fold," Spot answers. "I named him Norton, after a cat in a book I've grown fond of: The Cat Who Went to Paris by Peter Gethers."

Crutchy looks up. "The Cat Who Went to Paris?"

Spot nods. "I can lend it to you sometime if you wanna try reading it."

"How did a cat go to Paris?"

Spot smiles. "Read it and find out."

Boots is currently on the floor, surrounded by at least five cats. This. This is heaven on Earth.

"You guys have got to let me work here," Boots announces as a tabby cat rubs against his face affectionately.

Race chuckles. "We'd probably get in trouble by authorities for employing a thirteen year old. We can tell them that you're a fourteen year old intern, how about that?"

Boots nods enthusiastically. "If these existed back in 1899, you wouldn't see me out on the street sellin' newspapers."

Race lets out another chuckle. "Yeah, about that." He drops a newspaper on Boots' face. "Read that."

Boots picks it up off his face and reads the headline, brow furrowed. "'President Whiskers spends a million dollars on catnip?'"

"We decided it would be funny to provide newspapers that feature cats," Race explains. "Sometimes it's satire, sometimes it's what's really happening in the world but in cat-form, and some of it's just fun. Some of them are period papers, meaning that we remember headlines we sold over 100 years ago and make it into a cat."

Boots turns a page. "'Purritzer accepts compromise with the mewsies?"

Race laughs. "Clever, ain't it? I came up with that myself."

Boots notices something at the bottom. "Hey what is...cat-cafe-for-all-tumblr-dot-com?"

"Oh yeah, that's our tumblr account," Race explains. 

Boots looks up at him blankly.

Race pauses. "Actually, there's way too much to explain right now. Anyway, it's a...platform where Spot and I can share pictures of our cat café, and also write some fiction. Some about the cats, some about 1899--Spot mostly handles the 1899 fiction, on a different account. I specialize in merdeposts."

Boots blinks. "What...?"

"Stuff that is absolute nonsense," Spot cuts in. "Really, sometimes I wonder why I married him when I see the stupid stuff he posts."

"Hey! It's because you found me and my wit charming! You admire my cleveribility!"

"Race. There is no way that is a word."

"Yeah, well. If Shakespeare could make up words, why can't I?"

"Because there is already a perfectly good word you could have used: cleverness."

"Oh come on! You know my brain is prone to forget words! How am I supposed to remember every word at every moment?"

During their bickering, a customer walks in.

"Uh, guys?" Crutchy nudges them. "There's someone here."

Race changes immediately. He puts a big smile on his face, and cheerfully says, "Welcome to the Cat Café for All! Here we offer a safe space for all who are marginalized. Sit down at whatever table you'd like. A waiter and at least three cats will be with you shortly."

As the person chooses a table and picks up a newspaper, Boots turns back to Spot. "How did Race get so good at that?"

Spot smiles fondly. "It's because he's got a whole lot of charisma."

Selling papers, welcoming people into a café...both require a flair for performing. Race has a definite flair for performing. Sometimes Spot wonders what would have happened if Race found a way to get famous, actually use his talents for more than just making people feel welcome in this little café of theirs. But he always snaps out of it when he realizes just how much he wants Race to himself, and just how many times teenagers have shyly come up to him thanking him for making them feel safe.

The customer lets out a little huff. "Trash fire next to immigration bell terrifies seagulls, leaving many cats hungry," the customer muses, reading this headline. It's something so similar to something that customer saw long ago.

Boots is determined to learn the names of all these cats. Sure, there's more than a dozen, probably way more than twenty, possibly thirty, but he wants to know every cat's breed, name, and age. If he's going to be an "intern" here, that sounds like something he needs to know.

Crutchy sits on a bean bag chair in a corner, with Norton purring on his lap. Crutchy strokes him contently.

He has no clue how they got all these cats here, or who takes care of them. Sure, Crutchy has seen more staff come in and out, many of them teenagers who are probably around his age, or some in their 20s, who have bright hair—which he never knew was possible—or wear rainbows on  their clothes. Some of them get into very animated conversations with Race, because their brains work alike. 

Crutchy wonders just how closely his brain works to theirs. He never felt the need to question it when he was around the newsies, but in this new environment, he questions if his brain works differently from the rest, but maybe is closer to these two.

The customer is ready to pay the bill. Race stares at the name on the check.

"David Jacobs," he reads aloud.

David looks up. "Yes?"

Race lip tugs into a small smile. "You're David Jacobs?"

"....Yes. Yes I am."

Race grin grows. "I'm Racetrack Higgins."

David spits out his tea.

Race's grin grows bigger, if possible. "Nice to see ya again, Davey."

By the look of things, David is much older than Race. So he must have been in this world longer.

"Is it really you?" David whispers, afraid to say it out loud, afraid of sounding crazy.

Race nods. "It's me." Race beckons Spot, Crutchy, and Boots over.

David's eyes go wide when he sees Crutchy and Boots, not looking a day older than when he last saw them. Yes, they are in modern clothes, thanks to Race and Spot, but David would never forget these faces.

He stares at his cup. "Do you have anything stronger than this? I think I'm gonna need-"

"Ah, ah, ah," Race chides him. "This is an anti-alcohol establishment. We can give you coffee that can accelerate your heart rate if you still want that feeling though."

"Nah, I'll just settle with this." David downs the rest of his tea.

"So, what's your story?" Race prods him gently. "How long have you been here?"

David takes a moment. Then responds, "I've been in this cursed reality since 1988."

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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

DAVID BACK STORY NEXTTTTTT

So the reson why they run a cat café was because last night I was trying to figure out what Race and Spot do now and I was like "oh my gosh they run a cat café" which turned into me yelling "OH MY GOSH THEY RUN A CAT CAFÉ" and then I wrote them running a cat café.

I've never been to a cat café but I really wanna.

So The Cat Who Went To Paris by Peter Gethers is a real book. It's an autobiography by Peter, who used to hate cats, but ever since his brother gave him a cat named Norton, his opinion changed. It's a good read.

"Intern" has been a term since 1879, however it was originally used for like an intern to a doctor. So Boots would know the term, but be a little confused by how he could be an intern to a café.

Cat cafés were invented in 1998 in Taipei, Taiwan, and the original cat café was called "Cat Flower Garden". It still exists today. Anyone wanna go to the first cat café ever with me in Taiwan?

The first café is said to have opened in 1550 in Constantinople. However I am getting conflicting sources that cafés first opened in the 1640s in France, and that public cafés opened in the 18th century. So no matter what, they would have been around for 1899 I think haha.

I can't WAIT for Race to explain the autism creature to Boots and Crutchy haha. Also tumblr.

Also another thing about me is that I can't curse in English. Yeah I don't know why either. However I can curse in other languages, so merdepost it is.

So now we get to learn what happened to David!

You ready?

Once I write the chapter haha.

Please, no homophobia or transphobia, profanities directed at other wattpad users, hate etc in the comment section at all times.

Best,

~Your Beloved Author (who still has no clue what they are doing but hopes that they'll figure it out at some point haha)