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𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲 | 𝗧𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗬 𝗛𝗔𝗜𝗥 ————————————————
Isn't it funny how the past is always connect to the present? How your life is a single thread, but once you cross paths with someone it gets woven together, creating a different thread, mixing and matching to the life of the person. It could be from a small glance in a grocery store to working with them and not knowing anything about them.
To walking to work one day at midnight and seeing them there and realizing that you've though them to inconsiderable, undeserving mince but they might just be better than you at this job that you've made your life's goal.
No? Just Sabrina?
"What are you doing here Mike?" She walks towards him. "Did you have a sleepover with the rats in the duct?"
He looks surprised to see her. Like she might've actually caught him hopeless and helpless.
She wished.
Unfortunately, he was working.
Sabrina figured with the amount of hours he spent running around in the day, clueless, one (or a couple) all-nighters were warranted.
"No just reading the bylaws for McKernon Motors. Something maybe you should've been doing but you left." He flipped through the file like it was the heaviest thing to exist.
Call it Thor's hammer and he was definitely not worthy.
"Don't sound too excited about it."
He rolled his eyes like he was burdened with talking to her and every second of it was excruciating.
"I don't have time for this." He said half heartedly. On second thought he said, "I don't have time for you."
"You really know where to hurt Mikey boy." She hit her heart in mock pain and pretended to have a heart attack.
A very intricate, surreal and realistic performance.
One that deserved at the very least an applause if not Oscar nominations.
And Mike. . . rolled his eyes.
"You tasted the red sour patch kid, or what?" She got up from the floor and took the seat next to him. "You can't possibly be mad that you have to work?"
