An Empire of Our Little Emotion

Chapter 4

{ I've got no reads on this so I'm a little down and was considering not posting, but just in case even one person reads this, here's an update:) - A.H }

A Mix of Irritation in a Rebuttal 

Clarence wasn't lying is all he could think as he stepped in. The old-fashioned wallpaper immediately catching his eyes and the almost died-out lights making his sight go fuzzy. Peering around the dark room, Arata couldn't think anything but 'something is off', there is no one around, the tables aren't laid and it smells as though the last thing cooked was a while ago, the scent escaping out the door he just entered from. He checks his watch and puzzled, he walks around to check for anyone there, being cautious in case it's a hostage situation or if the place is being robbed. "The place looks dead and it's only 3 pm so it shouldn't be closed," he said under his breath. Turning the corner, he walks up to a bunch of young adults sleeping at separate tables that wore aprons adorned with the same title that addressed the storefront. Poking the closest worker to him, he hoped to actually be served so he could get back to his job.

"Fuck off Charlie," the hand swiped away at his as the girl buried her head back into her arms. "I don't know who Charlie is, nor do I care. Are you closed or not because if you are I'll leave." Arata said looking with a disproving and irritated look. Startled out of her nap, the girl rose her head and her hair slowly unraveled from its messy bun, quickly wrapping itself around her face and frizzing up in front of her eyes. Clearing her view and blinking her eyes, she realized that a customer was in front of her and mumbled a few curse words before grumbling, stretching, and getting up. "Give me a second, don't wake the others up. I'll get you a menu and sit wherever you want," she said groggily as she yawned and slothed away.

Not only is this a shit hole but the people who work here are idiots too, Arata thought as he took off his coat and sat opposite end to those of the sleep-deprived workers. Re-emerging from the kitchen doors with her hair tied and drool wiped away, the woman looked at him before sighing and grabbing her notepad from her apron. "Dave, will be in in a sec, since you aren't from around here, he's the cook," she said as she laid a menu on the table that she pulled from behind the front desk. "Great." Replied Arata clearly agitated by the lack of resolve she had. Looking at him and suddenly judging quizzically, the look in her eyes changed defensively. "What are you doing here anyway? I'm surprised you haven't been mugged yet since that mask of yours doesn't cover your fancy ass suit. I hope you know that even with your face covered, it's obvious who you are," she said as she tapped her pen against the paper.

Sliding his face out from the menu so that his eyes could be shown, he met her gaze and put it down to pull off his mask. "No point in suffocating myself then," Arata mumbled as he picked back up the menu and looked at her eyes, slowly studying them. "You don't seem to care who I am," he remarked before deciding on what to eat and handing the menu back to her. "There's nothing to care about. Though I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious as to why someone like you is here. However, you don't seem like the type to enlighten me, so can you just tell me what you want already," She responded, already looking bored with the conversation. "I'll tell you if tell me why you obviously don't like me," Arata responded, getting more and more annoyed by her lack of professionalism but keeping his signature dead look. "Your offer is empty. I couldn't give any more of a rat's ass if you didn't tell me or do. How about instead, if you tell me why you're here, I'll tell you why I think you're such a mega douchbag asshole, your words not mine." The woman replied as she clicked her pen's point back in and met his gaze with a look just as cold.