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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">Merlotte’s was busier than expected, but then again, Bon Temps High’s first football game of the season was that night. Many residents flocked to Merlotte’s for comfort - some came to pregame with alcohol and cigarettes, some came to fill their bellies with a warm meal before the game started. Regardless of their intentions, Gianna Broussard could hear their thoughts and thick Southern accents as plain as day. <br/>
<br/>
<i>“I wonder if Johnny will like my new skirt. It’s definitely short enough to show some cheek!” <br/>
<br/>
“Fuck. Did I leave the goddamn stove on?” <br/>
<br/>
“That Broussard girl sure is odd, staring off into space like that.”</i><br/>
<br/>
A sigh flew past Gianna’s plush lips. Sam Merlotte, the owner of Merlotte’s Bar &amp; Grill, rounded the bar counter as he noticed Gianna staring off into space, still balancing an empty, round serving tray on her palm. <br/>
<br/>
“Gianna. Gianna! The customers?” Sam barked from across the room, startling the young woman out of her - and everyone else’s - thoughts. <br/>
<br/>
“Sorry, Sam.” Gianna mumbled, a soft blush of embarrassment staining her high cheekbones a delicate shade of pink. She moved forward with newfound focus as she rounded the bar herself, brushing past Sam as she made her way towards the serving station, where the cook Bert would be placing orders ready to be served. Glancing down at her notepad, she noticed that Mrs. Fortenberry was waiting for her catfish platter with a side of okra and mac and cheese. A feeling of unease filled her then - Mrs. Fortenberry was always as harsh with her thoughts as she was about keeping her “godly woman” exterior in tact.. <br/>
<br/>
“Gianna, why don’t you walk outside and catch some air? You look a little frazzled.” Sam’s voice suddenly filled Gianna’s ears and she had to fight the urge to jump in surprise. His voice lacked the Southern twang that most residents of Bon Temps, Louisiana possessed, due to the fact that Sam hailed from Michigan. Gianna had learned long ago to avoid listening to Sam’s thoughts, for he’d been in love with her since they were both much younger. He was also one of the very few people in the world who knew that the rumors were true, that Gianna truly could hear the thoughts of others. <br/>
<br/>
“Air? Oh, yes. Yes, air sounds nice.” Gianna sighed, frowning as she untied her Merlotte’s apron and tossed it on the serving counter to await her return. Dressed in her white Merlotte’s t-shirt, jean shorts, and black tennis shoes, she turned to her left and used the back exit to make her way outside. <br/>
<br/>
As the metal door swung shut behind her, Gianna made her way to her car. The ratty, slightly rusted Mustang sat parked underneath a large oak tree, the shade helping to chase away the summer heat. Instead of entering her car, however, Gianna leaned against the hood with her hip, sighing as she stared back at the rear staff entrance of Merlotte’s. She had been struggling  with keeping other’s thoughts at bay. Normally she’d be able to push the intrusive thoughts away, focusing on her tasks to keep herself preoccupied, but as of late she had a sickening feeling in her gut that something bad was coming and along with it, the utter lack of control over her ability. <br/>
<br/>
Perhaps it had something to do with The Emergence and the realizations that vampires, entities monopolized by Hollywood and used as scary tales to scare children into submission, were real. Gianna herself didn’t believe that vampires were wholly bad. In her mind, nothing truly was wholly good or evil. The way she saw it, vampires had once been human and their humanity had been stolen from them in one way or another, resulting in their eternal lives as vampires. But the others within Bon Temps saw things differently than she. They saw vampires as abominations and creatures of cruelty and human disregard.. Maybe it was true, but maybe it wasn’t, right? <br/>
<br/>
Soon enough, the fresh outdoor air did its job in chasing away the lingering voices in Gianna’s head. She pushed away from her car and strode back into Merlotte’s with a newfound determination, but the feeling that some sort of major change was coming only intensified. Yet her thoughts were quickly driven away as she heart Bert barking out orders. <br/>
<br/>
“Catfish platter with okra and mac is ready!” The older man yelled from behind the serving counter, slapping the large plate of food down on its surface. Having been just in time, Gianna grabbed her apron and donned it as she moved to place the plate on a serving tray. <br/>
<br/>
“I got it!” Gianna called out, moving with her chin held high as she took the order to Mrs. Fortenberry, who sat alone in booth 4, one of the booths that lined the front of the bar, a window showing a good view of the gravel parking lot to her right. <br/>
<br/>
“Here you are Mrs. Fortenberry, one catfish platter with a side of okra and mac and cheese, just like ya like it.” Gianna grinned, doing her best to remain positive and courteous. <br/>
<br/>
“Why thank you Gianna, you’re a doll.” Mrs. Fortenberry grinned, her thick Southern accent exaggerated by how wide she opened her red lipstick rimmed mouth. <br/>
<br/>
<i>“Took you long enough, you weird little twat.”</i> She heard Mrs. Fortenberry’s voice echoed through her mind, her thoughts much more sour than her outer disposition. <br/>
<br/>
“Just let me know if I can get ya anything else.” Gianna said through gritted teeth, trying her best to keep a smile even if she wanted to reach out and slap the auburn box dye right out of the woman’s hair. As she returned to the server’s station, a thick sigh slid past her lips. Sometimes, she just wanted to be normal. Well, all the time she did. She knew that the people of Bon Temps thought she was crazy, but they didn’t know the truth. Their thoughts got to her at times, though she’d dealt with it her entire life. Nonetheless, it was shaping up to be a long shift and Gianna considered if she had the energy to deal with it all. </span><br/>
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