"I just pressed the home button, and I'm still at work."
The guy at the call center laughs heartily. Then-----
"Nice joke, Miss- uh..." he breaks off uncertainly.
"Vivienne, sir..." the smoky voice came.
"Dale Winslow." he replies. Dale is sitting on his chair, which is a makeshift one, at that. He's actually sitting on a cardboard box that's as battered as his 'office'. Sitting beside the window, Dale's chestnut hair appear to be glittering where the dusty sunlight falls on them. His too-battered-to-be-used headset lies in the dustbin, having finally been discarded after two weeks of persuasion.
Although his setup isn't your typical Apple Call Centre guy's type with modern looking equipment, nobody could call his office filthy. Dale Winslow guarded his office like someone who dusts and preserves their possessions carefully, painstakingly.
"A-aren't...Do you live in a shared room?"
Vivienne asks.
"Um...Why?"
"It's you, then? Dale, it's me, Vivienne!"
A few moments of silence, and then, as though instinctively, they both exclaim into the call, "YOU PIZZA THIEF!"
Dale's friend, Maylin Lennox looks up, alarmed, when he hears Dale's loud voice.
When Dale looks up at Maylin, he almost laughs out loud. Maylin is looking plain terrified and he is currently in the middle of eating a burger. Plain white face splattered with ketchup and ranch, and a burger held to his mouth, he looks straight out of a comically mutated book.
"Holy shit, Maylin, you should look at yourself right about now," Dale laughs, forgetting (temporarily) that he's on a call with a customer who is his roommate.
"Dale?" Vivienne asks at last.
"Yeah? What's up?"
"I'll talk later, I'm working right now."
and she hangs up. It's a habit the two of them have, of not using formalities when they talk.
Meanwhile, at Starbucks, Vivienne calls out "Strawberry frappe for... uhh... Aubergine?" and mutters "Are you kidding me..." followed by a girl with coily hair walking up to her. "I'm Aubrë Jean Wulf...My first name and middle name make... thanks!" she accepts the drink Vivienne hands her, walking out of the café.
Just then, a girl with electric blue hair and lip piercings walks up to the counter and says, "um...Hi, I wanted an- iced frappe matcha fruity oatmilk and please use almond mil-"
"Nicole you are not ordering that." Vivienne says to her customer-cum-bestfriend, Nicole Yvaine.
"Vi?? Well I'm a customer and you're entitled to, or should I say, bound to give a customer their proper order without complaint or sabotage." Nicole replied.
"Cut it out, Nick. You can't be a Karen. You're too much of a cinnamon roll for that."
"Get me my order, peasant."
"Nick, you can't Karen! Just give up."
"Ugh, fine. Vi can I have my regular? Iced Latte without ice?"
"Sure,"
Vivienne then walks into the kitchen and shouts out, "THY SHALL CONJURE ICELESS ICED LATTE FOR THE BASTARD!" and walks out like she totally didn't scream all of that.
side note: vivienne sometimes like using shakespearean language and the barista always has a laugh about it
Vivienne's shirt catches a bit of the "Iced Latte without Ice", because she'd just removed her apron, having noticed that her shift is nearly over. As she hands the Iced Latte without Ice to an eagerly waiting Nicole, the latter replies coldly, "Took you long enough."
To which Vivienne answers, "You're threatening, but, like, in a very adorable way."
"You have five centimeters over me but you're acting all high and mighty about it. Grow the Hell up."
"Well, clearly, I've grown a LOT better than you."
"I. Will. END. You."
Bling.
"Oh, that's my phone. I forgot to tell you, Nick, I wanted to try out my corny 'home button' joke on someone from the Apple Call Centre."
"And?"
"My roommate answered the damn call." Vivienne paused, before further adding, "We didn't know who we were talking to until I successfully delivered my corny joke, though."
"Uhm can I ship you now cause you're both like a really really cute couple and I-" Nicole whispered all in one breath, but she was cut off by-
"I can pick you up and put you on the fridge and keep you there unless you apologize, Nick." Vivienne growled, slowly pulling out a pocket knife.
Seeing the pocket knife shut Nick up. Or maybe it was the ringing phone in Vivienne's pocket that made her quiet. Whatever may be, Nicole smirked as she saw who called Vivienne. Dale. Winslow.
"Uhh hi Dale," Vivienne answered nervously.
