𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒍𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 | 𝑫𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒆 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ We're Cooked, Honestly!

October  20th

"It's time,"
as Curly would say.

The 'official' day of delivering
packages with ponies.
You roll out of bed with mixed emotions...part excitement, part dread.

After a quick shower, you stare at the infamous yellow Pony Express shirt hanging on your closet door.
Per Curly's ridiculous orders,
This weeks' uniform included cowboy hats and boots, which you grudgingly accepted.

You tug the shirt on, tying it at the waist into a snug knot that cinches perfectly. A rhinestoned belt from the back of your closet catches your eye—
because why not?

Next, you pull on your favorite pair of cutoff denim shorts.
They're frayed just enough to look casual but cute, and with the warm weather—thank you, oddly summery fall day—they're a perfect choice. 

Standing in front of your mirror,
you decide to style your hair in a low set of two ponytails, leaving two curled strands framing your face.

Your makeup today?
A soft, natural look with
a touch of glam for the event;
not like you're gonna sweat it all off...

You swipe on a shimmery bronze eyeshadow, wing your eyeliner just enough not over-the-top,
and finish with a swipe of peachy gloss that makes your lips pop. 

Sliding on the cowboy boots feels surreal—like some weird alternate universe where you've become a Western-themed delivery worker—
but you roll with it.
The cowboy hat is the final piece.

You adjust it in the mirror, tilting it slightly for a jaunty look. 
"Ridiculous,"
you mutter to yourself, but you can't help the small smirk forming as you grab your phone and snap picture.

The weather outside is unseasonably warm, the kind of crisp, sunny day that feels perfect for anything except actual work.
Still, you step outside,
your boots clicking on the pavement, and head toward your car.

Pony express inc.

You step into the break room,
the faint whiff of coffee and hay
filling the air.
The place is decked out to match this week's theme—Western vibes all around.

Burlap sacks, fake cacti, and even a wagon wheel leaning against the wall make it look like the Wild West threw up in here.
You clock in at the terminal by the door, punching in your number with a lazy tap before heading to your locker. 

The sound of a door creaking open behind you makes your shoulders stiffen. Turning slightly, you spot Jimmy leaning against the wall near his locker, arms crossed, his signature scowl etched into his face.

He's dressed in his usual work uniform, though it's still slightly wrinkled and badly sewed from yesterday's
"pony incident."

His cowboy hat, now hanging loosely around his neck, sways with every step he takes, clearly out of place compared to the rest of his otherwise unkempt appearance.
His dark eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, you feel the weight of his glare. 

Great. Alone with "him."
This grumpy bastard was the last person you wanted to be stuck with right now. 

"You and that nuisance better not screw anything up today,"
Jimmy grunts, breaking the silence.
His voice is low, like he's trying to sound casual, but the way his jaw tenses says he's already annoyed.