busy mornings [ schlackity ]

1

join the discord - https://discord.gg/FHAsBZ6raF

Quackity awoke to the sound of Taylor Swift lyrics blasting out in his room. His eyelashes are clumped together, wiping the rheum out of his eyes with a pained hiss. There's a bright light coming from his computer, and he has to look away from the white light as pain forms in his eyes.

Using his hands to feel around his room, blurry memories of his sleepover stream play in his mind. He was constantly awoken to some horrible music or sounds of a person screaming or crying for help, and eventually he found some earplugs and drowned out the sounds. The streamer shuffles towards his computer, eye's opening to small slits as he searches for the brightness button on his computer, and lowering down the glare.

He sends the chat a lazy smile as he reads the slow stream of messages wishing him a good morning. "'Morning to you too, chat. Did you all sleep well?"

A chorus of yes's appears. "Well, good for you all, I barely got any rest."

Glancing towards the clock, he makes an audible sigh. "Oh fuck...I have to go to my retail job in like 30 minutes, or else I'm fired. I would stay longer but I have to go. Like now."

Promptly ending the stream, he brushes his teeth while he's in the shower and uses his shampoo to wash himself, before throwing on his clothes from yesterday since he's forgotten to do the laundry again. He grabs the first beanie he lays his eyes on, before slipping through the window on his 5th floor apartment since the streamer got jumped a month ago and his keys were misplaced in the chaos. The boy carefully walks down the fire escape, not aiming to accidentally flip over the rail and nearly break a bone in his body like last time.

Running through hectic Brooklyn streets, he stuffs his hands into his jacket pocket as he fiddles with the spare change he has on him. Alex is afraid of losing it, ignoring the way his palms are increasingly becoming much more sweaty. The rising temperature from the sun as it continues to rise into the sky brings an arrangement of smells - from hot garbage to a small chinese owned business cooking a full sized pig on display. In the distance, there's the sound of smooth jazz flowing out of a club entrance, but the car alarm going off blurs it out.

Using his arm to open up the Starbucks door, he groans loudly as there's a long line ahead of him - then flushes a deep red out of embarrassment as people turn to stare at him. Self-consciously pulls his beanie over his face, rapidly tapping his foot as he waits to take his order. Waiting on the line seems like an eternity as he watches the seconds tick by.

Twenty minutes. He only has twenty minutes to reach to work before he's fired. And the damn guy in front of him won't make up his mind.

"Uh..." The guy squints at the chalkboard on the wall, reading his possible options. "Maybe I'll get a simple black coffee...? No, wait, I actually hate black coffee."

Alex bites his tongue, opening up his twitter to check possible indirects.

"Should I get a muffin? Or perhaps a cupcake? Maybe Tubbs would like a cupcake -"

"Hey, man - can you hurry the fuck up?" Alex snaps. The brunette man turns around, a raised eyebrow on his face. Guilt settles in as he realises the man has a baby in his arms, drifting to sleep.

"...I'm sorry?" The man says.

"I said hurry up! You're not the only dude in the store, I have to go to be at work in less than fifteen minutes!" He shoots back.

The taller man continues to stare at Alex. "Do you know who I am?"

"No, and I don't give a shit." Alex remarks.

The other guy raises his eyebrows in shock, clearly thrown off by the response. He turns right back around to continue looking at the board, flashing the nervous cashier a wide smile.

"Short people, am I right? So fucking annoying."

"Excuse you?" He steps in front of the man, giving him the harshest glare he could muster. It's only met with a shit eating grin, knowing damn well he's pushed Alex's buttons.

"You heard me right." Tall asshole dude looks down at Alex's hands balling into fists. "Ooo, don't tell me you're going to hit me? Come on, you tiny little gnome-gremlin looking child. All you people are so goddamn agressive over the littlest things."

"Shut up, asshole." Flicks him a finger, before shuffling through his pockets to pull out his money. Thirteen dollars and forty-eight cents - nice.

"Oh? Is that all you got...flatty patty?" His eyes are fixated on his ass, and they both know he hit yet another nerve.

Alex takes a deep breath, looking at the baby he's holding protectively in his arms. He turns around to the cashier, tossing his change onto the counter. "Can I have an iced salted caramel mocha?"

"I - you're not going to hit me?" The man says in confusion.

"Nope." He pulls out his phone, smiling at a text he gets from his fellow friend Nihachu. "Not worth it. That, and I don't hit people with kids."

"So you do know who I am?" The man repeats.

"No, I don't. So stop asking, okay?" He sighs. "Just let me get my coffee in peace. And uh, get a caramel latte, it's actually really good."

"And why should I trust you?" He shifts his child to his other arm.

Alex laughs. "You shouldn't. I might've just lied to you, maybe I'll rob you later."

The cashier hands him his drink after, passing her a grateful smile of appreciation. He takes a small sip, moaning at how good the taste is - worth spending every last penny for it.

And then it's snatched out of his hands. "Hey!"

"Here, hold him." The guy hands over his sleeping child to Alex, confusion visible on both of their faces. He holds the child tightly, afraid to let him fall.

"Um... hi little guy!" Alex grins at the child. "What's your name?"

The little boy fists his hands into his shirt, feet kicking into the air. "Tubbo. I'mma bee!"

"Yeah? I bet you collect a lot of honey." The streamer says.

"Honey!" Tubbo repeats. "Bees collect honey! Honey honey honey!"

From the corner of his eye, he can see the man pull out a platinum credit card and hand it over to the cashier, before pulling out a sharpie and writing something on his coffee cup.

"Hey, uh - what's your dad's name?" Quackity questions.

"Slat." Tubbo replies. "He's a big scary ram! But not scary to bees."

"Slat?"

"No, it's Schlatt." He scoops his suddenly active child out of Alex's arms, handing him both his coffee and loose change.

Thin fingers flick through the cash handed to him, counting back exactly thirteen dollars and fourty-eight cents. "Why did I just get my money back?"

"Think of it as you being in debt to me now." Schlatt states, picking up his latte with his free hand. "But you don't have to pay me back a single penny - on one condition."

"Oh?" Alex raises an unamused eyebrow. "What is it?"

"You call that number there whenever you're free, flatty patty." Schlatt winks at him, before promptly leaving the cafe and making a right uptown. Quackity stares in awe at the number scribbled in neat handwriting on his coffee for a good five minutes, before an alarm goes off on his phone, alerting him that he's late for work.

He rushes out of the cafe, holding the coffee cup tightly in his hands, before he makes his way downtown with a deep blush on his face.