𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐰 || 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐱𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

-𝔼𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥-

Before you finished the order, Raheem had sent Historia out to the front with Armin for when more customers were to walk in.

When you pushed open the kitchen door, you found Raheem with his arms folded, face straight, and Eren with his attention elsewhere, hands in his pockets.

"Get over here, (Y/n)." He pointed to the ground beside him.

You let the door go and slowly approached him, looking Eren up and down with a hard sneer. Then went back to Raheem. You then crossed your arms and shifted your weight to the left.

He cocked a brow. "What the hell was that? Did ya'll lose ya'll mind somewhere else before ya'll came in today?" He scanned either of your faces. "That right there that I just walked in on?" He shook his head. "Unacceptable. Ya'll are two grown folks, and you tellin' me you still don't know how to get your point across without gettin' up in each other's faces and shoutin' like nobody's around?"

You pulled your hand up from the fold and held your nails close to examine them. Is it chipped? You squinted closer to your pinky nail in particular.

"I'm not just speaking to Eren here, (Y/n)." Raheem took a step toward you, forcing your eyes up to him again. Eren, too, pushed his eyes back toward him. "You. Are. At. Work." He smacked the back of his hand on his palm to each word. "Not at home or out on the street."

You tucked your hand back in the fold as he took a step back to his original stance.

He tossed his bulging arms up to the air as if to say what now. "So ya'll ain't got nothin' at all to say for yourselves? We just gon keep playing the quiet game then, like a couple of children." He pushed his lips down and nodded. "Ight." He let his arms fall back to his side, then shrugged carelessly. "Well since neither one of y'all care to say anything." He set his eyes on the young male. "Eren, you don't mind being fired without being heard from, right?"

All the anger drained from his face and sucked in a nasty pit of unease. "Fired?" His hands pulled from his pockets. "No, wait-"

His hands raised in defense, "Nah, it's cool." He pushed his concerns back away. "It's cool. I got you. I mean, I know you just got here and all dat but it's whatever now right?" Raheem then brought his attention back on you.

"What?" You questioned him.

"(Y/n), you don't mind the penalty strike, right?"

Your shoulders dropped. "Raheem...you betta not," you warned. Your record was as clean as a whistle, and you would've liked for it to stay that way.

"Why not? Y'all won't say nothin', so now the assistant manager has to take matters into his own hands," he tapped his chest.

"Raheem, please," he stepped forward. "You don't understand. I need this job. Don't let me go."

"Yeah? Well, how about we start with you then? And it better be good."

Eren looked at you. And you at him before your eyes found the floor. He lifted his hands by his crotch and began fiddling with his fingertips. "It was...sorta kinda my fault for getting upset with her first."

"Over what?"

"There was a situation on Friday when Yvonne, Celine, and I were closing up and they had accused me of leaving a strange note in her locker, which it wasn't true by the way," he rushed to explain. "Jermaine was the one behind it..."

"It's true," you mustered up under your breath, turning their attention onto your for a moment. "I asked the girls about it and they confronted Jermaine."

"Okay. And when does this whole thing go left?"

"When he caught an attitude with me after I asked about it," you said matter-of-factly. "And then he made it seem like I wasn't helping him when Jermaine was saying stuff about him," you waved your hand dismissively.