Manhattan meets Queen's

I

Y/N's POV
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Wake up.

Shower.

Brush my teeth.

Get dressed.

Go to work.

Come home.

Do school work.

Repeat.

Every waking day, the same time, the same people, the same routine. It's comfortable, yet exhausting...
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*6 am*

My 6 am alarm goes off like usual, letting me know it's time for work. So I get up and walk across the room to my dresser, turning off my alarm and checking my notifications. I don't expect there to be anything, but it's worth a shot ya know? I've found it hard recently to get up in the morning. So I had a teacher reach out, and advise I start putting my phone across the room at night, that way it forces me to get up.

I was emancipated almost two years ago, with parent permission...ish. They really didn't care to be honest. I hated where I lived, so I did my research. And according to the state of New York, you can be emancipated at 16! So that's what I did. It's not too bad! I like living alone, it's cozy. And trust me, having your own apartment is a plus, you get to decorate it however you want, walk around the house naked, and best of all. Drink out of the jugs. Don't come for me, I said "be gone to the wind" with trying to be "lady-like" the day my mom passes away.

But seriously, I do need to get to work. Now yes, while you think, "Hm, if you are 18... that means you should be in school, right?". You would be correct, it may not look like it but I am in school. I am fully online, so I have more time to work. Another plus of being emancipated, you get to make your own decisions.
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*7:03 am*

I got to work, 3 minutes late from the time I should've clocked in. But Delmar doesn't really care, what's he gonna do? Replace me? Wrong. I've been here for 4 years, he can try, but I'm his most valuable employee. "You're late again." Delmar says, while I grab my apron and tie it around my waist. "Good morning to you too, sir." I say sarcastically. "This is the 3rd time this week, Y/N... you really need to manage your time better." He says, with a "serious tone". "When you learn to control the New York City traffic, and taxi routes, get back to me." I give him a look, that he laughs at. "You annoy me kid." He says, while pointing a knife at me. "Thank you! That means I've done my job well. Where am I working today?" I ask, hoping he doesn't say drive-thru. Now I know what you're thinking, and I know. A drive-thru in New York? Not practical. Mr. Delmar thought it would be a brilliant money maker if we had a drive-thru, so he took a sledge hammer to the wall. Also not practical. It took us 2 months to fix the damage and to put an automatic sliding window installed.

"Don't hate me." He points at the drive-thru window. I look to where he's pointing. "I hate you." I look at him. "Look, kid. I want to tell you sorry... but I'm not." He throws his hands up. "You know, I want to work up front sometimes too." Now there is only one reason he wants to work upfront. "You only want to work upfront because you like when teenagers come in and ask if you're Mr. Delmar from the spider-man movies." I'm right, I know I am. "And you only want to work upfront because you think that Scarlett Johansson will randomly walk in one day for a sandwich. And not to crush your dreams kid, but celebrities don't come to these parts of town." I know he didn't just... I stand with my mouth hanging open. "Touché old man, touché. You may be right, but it doesn't mean it didn't hurt!" He laughs.