Brian Wilcox X reader

2. First Day

Y/n's POV:

Considering we were basically broke anyway, moving really took it out of us.

Dad needed to get a new job and our benefits have been reduced. The house we moved into was old and hasn't been lived in for decades. There was mould on the walls, no working hot water and no central heating, thank god I'd brought space heaters.

The house was on the outskirts of Cody, near a woodland area. In the middle of nowhere basically.

My dad told me he needs me to get a job and start paying rent. He told me that I have 2 months to get a job and that he can't afford to 'pay for me to live' anymore. AKA he didn't want to choose between paying for his daughter or his booze.

After countless screaming arguments I realised that there was no way around it, I had to get a job. I'd considered selling my car which I'd bought with the money my mother left me so I could live off of that money for the rent but I need a way to get to school.

I applied for at least 30 different jobs. Ranging from a waitress to a shop assistant to a librarian. After two weeks of waiting I'd only heard back from one. A fast food worker at Mickeys.

The thought of it revolted me. I knew they employed teenagers to take advantage of them. Over working and under paying them. I'd been in a few in my life and the workers always looked miserable. But I guess I didn't have a choice if I needed a job. They didn't even set up an interview, they just said I have a trial shift in a week's time.

I'd decided that I wasn't going to let myself be miserable about this. This was never my ideal plan for my teenage years but there's nothing I can do to change it. I'm going to go in there and do the job and do it well. I'm going to smile and be polite. I'm going to follow instructions and they're gonna love me. Or that's I told myself anyway.

It was summer break so I still had a good while until I started my new school so I guess most of my time would be spent working which was better than spending it watching my dad drink himself to sleep.

When I told him I got the job he gave me a pat on the back, the most emotional he's been with me in years. Next week eventually rolled around and it was the day of the trial shift.

In the email they'd sent they just said to wear your own clothes and black shoes. Very blunt but I just chose to wear baggy, dark green cargo pants with a white crop top since I wasn't sure what I was meant to be wearing.

The main problem was the shoes. The only shoes black I owned were my platform boots. I didn't own any other black shoes and didn't have money to buy any more. I had no choice but to wear them. I told myself that if my employer had a problem with them I would just have to explain I don't have money to buy more and that I would with my first paycheck.

I put the shoes on and grabbed my phone and keys. On the way to the car I felt a strange sense of nostalgia. I'd missed these boots and to be honest missed being this tall. I'm not naturally tall and these boots added a good few inches to my height which I always used to love.

When I pulled up to Mickey's and gave myself a quick pep talk in my car mirror before making my way inside. The second the automatic doors slid open the smell of grease hit me like a punch in the face. The fluorescent lights were blinding and white, making my eyes sting when I looked at the ceiling for too long.

At the counter there seemed to be two guys in the back and one girl at the front. One guy had brown hair and the other had jet black. I couldn't see their faces as they were both facing away from me but the girl who had chestnut brown hair that came past her shoulders and pretty blue eyes.

'Hey, welcome to Mickeys. What can I get you today?' The girl chirped with a smile.

'Oh I'm not ordering. I have a trial shift today?' I smiled back.