Worthwhile - Inanimate Insanity AU (PayJay)

ONE - No Service

TW/CW: Mentions of death

3rd Person POV

"OJ~ Wake up, OJ! I made breakfast!" Salt said cheerfully. OJ groaned and sat up slowly, his tired expression worried Salt a little.

"OJ, are you doing ok?" Salt asked in a quieter tone.

"I'm fine." OJ said quietly. 

✰✰✰

OJ didn't want to be married to Salt. She was needy, and he hated her personality. OJ just wated a normal spouse, one who he loved back.

OJ was only with Salt because it was "for the family business", a chain of hotels all over the world. It was a globally known name. When OJ's parents were alive, they were very wealthy. The same went for Salt's parents, who were fashion designers. They arranged for their children to be married, and both would inherit the money of their parents after they died.

Eventually that day came, when both Salt and OJ's parents died in a major car accident. Both inherited a lot of money, and became just as wealthy as their parents were.

But just because you're wealthy doesn't mean you're happy.

✰✰✰

OJ sat down at the table and sighed, as burnt pancakes and black toast were set in front of him by his 'wife'. But OJ knew he couldn't just leave, it would break Salt's heart. He just had to grin and bear it. The same way he's been doing it for 10 long, miserable years.

"Thanks, dear." He said blankly. He took a bite of the incorrectly cooked pancakes just to humor the salt shaker eagerly awaiting some form of praise. "It's..." He struggle to keep down the bite he took. It was probably the worst thing he'd ever tasted. "Great..." He choked out. He gagged a little, but he tried to hide it. OJ checked the clock.

"Salt, you should be at the boutique in a few hours." OJ reminded Salt.

"Yeah, I have time." Salt said, shrugging the though of tardiness off, in order to spend more time with the man she'd fantasized about marrying since she met him when she was only 12 years old. She still thought about that cruise every day.

"I'm not so sure, you usually take a while to get ready, despite being a salt shaker.

"I'll be fine. It is my boutique."

OJ sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine. I guess I'll clean up. I don't have much else to do, work starts at noon, and it's only 8:30."

"Okey-dokey, dear!" Salt marched off happily. 

✰✰✰

Paper tapped his finger to the beat of whatever was on the many 70s cassettes his father had collected and passed down to him. He just needed noise other than the loud and continuous hum of the 1983 Honda Accord he drove. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Suddenly, the engine started to falter.

"Oh-" Paper muttered to himself, getting into the emergency lane. The car came to a halt.

"Wh- Out of gas?!" Paper yelled. He slammed his fists down onto the steering wheel, causing him to jump at the sound of the horn. "Come on, come on, no, no!" Paper tried everything to get the engine to work again. Eventually he gave up, and sighed.

"Guess I'm stuck here for a while..." Paper groaned. It was hot out. Really hot out. He was very glad he brought a bottle of water. He looked around for any sign of life, or place where he could call for help, then he spotted... a house. A big one. It was just down a road filled with trees, like the entrance to a ranch, in the far distance. "Welt, time to get a workout. Heh." Paper laughed to himself and started the long walk.

✰✰✰

Paper eventually got to the shady road that lead to the large house. It was beautiful, a huge, white, 3-story house, that had to be at least 25 acres. Whoever lives here's gotta be loaded! If course they're gonna have a phone of some sort. Paper thought to himself, as he continued his trek towards the mansion. 

After a long walk, Paper finally reached the doorstep of OJ Manor. Paper thought it felt nice to stretch his legs, after being in that car for 2 days already. He shyly rang the doorbell, excepting someone to tell him to go away,or something like that. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised, as the door opened to none other than OJ himself, owner of OJ hotels.

"Hello?" OJ said, puzzled.

"Uh- Oh- Uh, hi, my car broke down a mile or so away, can I use your phone to call for help?" Paper asked nervously.

"Yeah, I'm not letting a stranger into my house." OJ said sternly.

"But-"

"What? Don't have a phone?"

"No-"

"Well, too bad, because you're not using mine."

"Mr. OJ, please, just let me use your phone."

"I said no. Now please leave."

"I'm literally asking to make a single call, it takes none of your time, and then I can get home."

OJ rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine. In and out." OJ let Paper walk in. Paper's jaw dropped at the interior of the huge house. The living room was enormous, with a large couch that could seat 12 people. "Ignore the fancy stuff. Salt's idea." OJ sighed as he got some things and walked briskly outside. Paper shrugged it off and went over to the phone. No phonebook was in sight.

Suddenly a small child walked in. They were a container of Tang powder. "Huh-?" Tang noticed Paper trying to find a phonebook. "Need help?" Tang asked Paper.

"Uh, yeah, do you know the tow service number?" Paper asked the small armless child.

"I'm not allowed to use the phone, but I can ask my dad where it is!" Tang said happily, as he went outside to ask his father where the large book was. 

Tang returned with OJ, who grabbed the phonebook off of a high shelf.

"Here." OJ mumbled, returning to the back porch, continuing to read some sort of book.

Paper dialed the number, and got things sorted out with the towing company.

"They'll be here in 45 minutes." Paper informed the wealthy glass of juice.

"Good. You can go wait in your car." OJ told him hastily.

"Dad! Come on! He seems nice! We should let him stay." Tang whined.

OJ sighed. "Fine. Go get out a game. I have to get ready for work."

"Ok!" Tang said cheerfully, running off to his room.

ahahagagahagahahha

payjay

too bad they cant get marrid cuz it's 1983 😔😔😔

but Tang 😍😍😍

1046 words

-PB