The Misfortune You Behold Is My Satisfaction

Chapter 3: Kicking Ass and Taking Names

   It has been a few days since your interview. You were a nervous wreck, of course. But with TK's encouragement, you were able to pass. You had jobs before in the fast food industry when you were saving up to move away from your parents, so you already had experience with the rude fucks and old pervs.

   You're always nervous on your first days, no matter what. Even if it's something you've done over and over again, your shit was always lost. Interviews always felt more like interrogations. That's most likely the reason you've always hated them. Shitty corporate chain insecurities asking why you want the job. Of course it's for money so you can, you know, live?

   But they're always looking for more, so the string of lies attached to your interviews are what get you by. With simple, "it allows me to learn teamwork and collaboration as well as build up my communication skills," you've got them. They eat it up every time. You don't need anything grand, fancy, or extra.

   Speaking of extra, you hadn't seen Peter in a while. Well, you have seen him around school, but he hasn't tried to start any problems with you. You're greatly surprised by this, especially since he literally threatened to dismember you over a stupid chair. But you're not complaining. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?

   Humming to yourself at your locker, you shift through your memories about your new job. You don't get paid yet since they need to see if you're actually a good fit. But you can't wait to spend your money on useless things but also be responsible enough to pay rent. As you think about your future going forward with your friendship with TK and your new job, some idiot bumps into you.

   You stumble back against your locker, turning your head to find the assailant until you see they've already run around the corner. Irritation immediately consumes you, but that's also interrupted by shouts and cheers down the hall as a few more students run past you in that direction. Unable to contain your curiosity, you shut your locker and head in that direction, too.

   The cheers and shouts get louder as you round the corner and slither your way through the sea of people, getting to the front row. Your eyes land on Peter in an altercation with what looks like a typical douchey jock guy with his little football friends behind him. The lights from people's phones tell you that they're recording the bullying.

   "Hey, emo. Maybe you should go cry in the corner and cut yourself some more. I'm sure that's what you're used to." There's a collective, cruel laughter from everyone around them. Your eyes widen at the insensitive comment the douche directed towards Peter and the cruelty of the laughter from your peers.

   Peter's expression darkens immediately, and he gives the douche a look of pure murder.

   "Jake, why don't you shove that football of yours up your ass? You know, considering you have your head so far up it already." There is a stunned silence before the crowd bursts laughing again.

   Okay, so these little sheep just laugh at anything, huh?

   Peter smirks and rolls his eyes. It seems like Jake is really pissed off now. He tries to get physical with Peter, but the goth boy just brushes him off as if he were nothing. Peter looks at him with cold, empty eyes.

   "What? You want to try me, douchebag? Because I promise you that you're not going to get the result you think you will. If your pea-sized brain could understand even half a syllable of what I'm saying, then you would've backed off a long time ago." Peter says with a mocking laugh. With these comments, it looks more like he's the bully, rather than Jake. But that isn't too far from the truth, considering your own run-ins with the golf ball headed freak.

   Jake's expression worsens as Peter insults him, until eventually he throws a punch at Peter, hitting him square in the jaw. His head knocks to the side, staring at nothing for a moment as his dark bangs cover his eyes.