𝑭𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑭𝒊𝒙𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 {𝘚𝘢𝘭 𝘍𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳}

Bringing Vi To Life [2]

"You make me sick,
your love is a lie.
I wanna hate
so I keep you alive..."

I watch Sally walk out of the door, trying to hold it together until his messy blue hair turns around a corner and finally leaves my field of vision.

How did this even happen?

The streets of LA are bustling and, still, all I can think of is his black clad figure—the only color on him being the sapphire shade of his hair—walking through and between people. But everyone else was just a shadow beside him. Zooming figures in my way. Blurs with no soul and no purpose but to burden others.

He's long gone now. Michael walked in just minutes after Sally disappeared. I'm forced to pretend that I'm ignoring the phenomena that just occurred as I wait tables and deal with customers that mean nothing to me.

Every inch of me burns to call Ash and quiz her about Sally's surprise visit. My muscles tense up in excitement when I think about it and my head throbs with tons of ways to tell her about what happened. My lips are chewed up and bloody, no doubt, just because I've been worrying over this since he walked through the door.

As much and as badly as I want to call Ash, I know that I can't. She would tell Sally that we met, for one. That's the last thing I want. Even if I asked her not to tell him, I'd be putting her in a compromising position if Sally and I were to ever meet as our real selves rather than this Lexi character that I created.

I'll just keep what happened today to myself. I don't ever have to tell anyone. It's my business anyway. I'll just deal with the consequences if it ever comes out that Lexi and y/n are the same person, which it will come out. With Ash, Larry, Todd, and I's friendship, we're bound to meet up again at some point. Not to mention, I'm planning on trying out this streaming thing soon.

Mine and Sally Face's meeting is fate no matter what fake name I come up with.

My day is boring and cruel. All I do is think about Sally's guitar pick hanging around my neck and the warmth in his bright blue eyes. I remember the way he complimented me, the way his ears turned pink with embarrassment, and all of the nice conversations we shared during his short stay in the diner. I still can't truly believe it happened. I'm honestly... mind blown.

I'm closing up tonight. It's about a quarter to ten and Michael is sweeping around tables as I count up all the money we made today. We close at ten, so we might as well finish our extra responsibilities now. Usually, customers are beginning to finish up at this time. We hardly ever have anyone walk in.

"Alright, y/n," Michael sighs, standing near the front door with his broom in hand. "I'm going put this up then I'll be heading out. You need any help closing this place?"

I smile at him. "No, don't worry about it! I shouldn't be much longer. I'll see you tomorrow."

Michael grins, pulling his apron over his head. "Awesome. See you bright and early."

He disappears into the back, then leaves out the front door just a minute or so later. So I wipe down the counters around me.

It's been a long day and I've been under a considerable amount of stress compared to other days. I'm so tired that I almost feel sick—I have a pounding headache and achy limbs. I almost want to skip work tomorrow and just take a day to myself—but taking a day to myself means losing a pretty $100 for bills at the end of the month. I'd rather not risk that, especially since I only work five hours tomorrow. What's the point of staying home if I won't be out too long anyway?