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(05.) ︻╦╤─ ҉ -¨ * ‧₊˚*♡ * *" ♡. ♡
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The jarring sound of the alarm slices through the silence, abruptly ending the peaceful escape of my nap. "This thing is pure evil," I grumble, fumbling with the offensive device until it finally silences. I sit up, the grogginess of sleep still clinging to me, and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The shower is calling my name.
Today marks the beginning of a new chapter-my first day at the new job. Yet, here I am, unable to shake off the memory of Stu. It's been a full week since he was here, and still, he's all I can think about. I'm probably making a mountain out of a molehill, but the mere thought of that afternoon sends spiraling.
I've been dodging Stu since that day, instinctively knowing that something between us shifted, something I can't quite decipher-and frankly, I'm not sure I want to.
Uncle Lenny's camera flashes a bright light that seems to freeze the moment, his proud smile reflecting in the lens. "Look at you all grown up," he says, the pride in his voice matching the gleam in his eyes. I can't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and affection.
"Lenny, please, we don't have time," I protest, cheeks flushed with a mix of excitement and the embarrassment of being the center of attention.
"Just one more, then we can go," he insists. But of course, one turns into five, plus a video for good measure. It's only after this impromptu photoshoot that we finally make it to the car.
As Lenny drives, he fills the air with advice and expectations, but my nerves are too frayed to absorb it all. "Now if you need me, I'm a call away-"
I glance at the restaurant's looming facade and interrupt, "Do we have to do this now? I'm ten minutes late already." The stress is clear in my voice, my gaze fixed on what will soon be my new battleground.
He rolls his eyes but relents, letting me out of the car. "Be safe, I love you," he says, and I can hear the protective note in his voice.
"Love you more," I shoot back quickly, trying to muster confidence. "And hey, it's just a job, how hard can it be?" The words are meant to reassure us both, but as I step towards the restaurant, I can't help but wonder if I'm trying to convince him or myself.
ఌ︎ꨄ︎
I repeat the order to the customer, confident I've got it right this time. "So eggs, sunny side up, bacon, pancakes, and apple juice?" I ask, looking at him expectantly.
"Uhh...I just ordered an omelette," he says, the awkwardness practically tangible in the air.
Confusion washes over me. "...then who had all of this?" My eyes dart between the man and the plates of food, searching for an owner.
