[EDITING UNDERGOING] ♡𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑶𝒍𝒅-𝑭𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝑩𝒐𝒚♡

27 || Hopelessly Devoted to You

A/N: I PROMISE THIS BOOK IS STILL ONGOING.

~

"Ms. L/N!"

"Huh?" You tiredly look at your boss.

"What are you assigned to do for the rest of your shift?"

"Mostly just walk around and see if any patrons need assistance with stuff," you shrug.

"Perfect! I have some tasks here for you to accomplish."

As soon as he began to explain your job, you could feel the energy draining from your body. "I don't have a choice to decline, do I?"

You frown at the attire your boss handed you before reluctantly taking it. You were doing this for the money...

~
10:09 AM

"Welcome to Mazercise! Work off the calories while you eat. Sign up for a membership pass today! Super cool perks include discounts on pizza, nachos, fries, & cookies. Now that's the smell of fitness."

You stood in front of men and women ranging from their early 20s to their late 40s. You wore the attire your boss gave you that resembles the exercise clothes back in the 90s. The hair stylists even put in the effort to make your hair all frizzy.

"Alright, is everyone ready?" A chorus of unsynchronized 'yes' and cheers filled the room. 

"Try to follow my lead." you began to improvise, as this was the first time in a while you actually bothered exercising. "I ate so much fucking shit on New Year's Eve. I said I wouldn't, but then I did. And I totally fucked up my diet, and now I'm paying for it by working out." You now tapped your foot to the music.

"And here. we. go..."

"Eat the chips."

"Abuse your hips."

"Kick the child and pose!"

"Wipe the gum off your shoe."

"Double loser."

"Take a picture."

"Throw a tantrum."

"Napkin shirt."

"Magic spell. Magic spell..."

The music blared from the speakers, and you clapped your hands to the beat, motioning for the group to follow your lead. Your improvised workout routine was an odd mix of aerobics, random dance moves, and exaggerated poses.

The customers followed along, some stumbling, others laughing at the silliness. As the upbeat tempo of the song reached its peak, you threw in a spin, nearly tripping over yourself. 

Freddy, standing near the doorway, couldn't help but chuckle as he watched. Despite your lack of coordination, you had an undeniable charm that made everyone in the room feel at ease.

Soon enough, the workout was over.

"Way to go, Superstar!" Freddy's voice carried over the room as the last person left. You turned to him, wiping sweat from your forehead with a towel, and your mouth twitched upward upon hearing his praise.

"Superstar?" you repeat with a playful smile.

"Yes! I hope you do not mind the nickname..." Freddy's ears twitched as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

"I mean..." you tilt your head, your brows furrowing slightly.

"D-Do you not like it?" His ears drooped a little, and you could almost feel the disappointment radiating off him.

"It's not that," you reassured him quickly, "but... don't you also call the guests 'Superstar'?"

"Yes, I do!" he beamed.

"That's the problem." you folded your arms, watching his expression cloud into confusion.

"Well... nicknames are supposed to be special and, in a way, endearing. If you call everyone 'Superstar', then how would that set me apart from the rest? It's like how I only call you 'Loverboy' because I think you hold a special place in my life!" Freddy froze for a moment, processing your words.