A Kairotic Moment

One

Author's Note:
We know it has been a year but a lot of shit has gone down, we finished high school and started Uni, met some new people, went on holidays and totally forgot we even wrote this.

But we're back with a plan and we have agreed to not neglect this story so that all you lovely readers can begin a new adventure *cough* gay.

we-are-winning

Player: Tinashe - ft Chris Brown (DISCLAIMER: WE DO NOT OWN THIS SONG OR VIDEO)

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It's been a week since the store was robbed and my boss has not stopped reminding me about it, to make it even better he has stopped paying me so that I can make up the money that was stolen. I'm basically doing community service, groaning loudly, my head drops back and I focus on the mouldy gray ceiling, wondering how I ended up here.

Puffing out a breath in frustration, I straighten my head and run my hand along the dusty counter as I gaze out into the empty shop. My ass of a boss Raymond, had just left the shop, half an hour ago to sort out his family problems but promised me to be back in a few hours, even though we close in two hours.

I had to fight the urge to yell at him and put aside the thought of throwing the cash register at his stupid balding head, as he made it quite clear in a condescending tone, "I don't trust you enough to close up, not after the little stunt you pulled,"

Before walking out leaving me to glare at his sweat patch back. I take the stock chart off the back wall and begin the daily ritual of counting and recounting all that the store has. Is it not enough that I'm living on just three hundred dollars a week? I cannot keep on asking for Moms help if I continue like this. It's a spur of coincidence that it was my shift that the prick had decided to rob the store. Maybe he had been staking out around the local area and had been studying our shift rotations. That sick bastard pulled a slick one on me.

"It's alright. Things like this happen." I remind myself otherwise.

Is it weird that I think of that robber from time to time? Not that I don't mind the animosity is festering behind every feature on his damn face. The way his eyes glistened in interest when I made that small comment on his cheapskate ways or the way his lips turned slightly into a smirk but was enough to pass as a polite smile. The crippling edge in his voice when he conditioned our swift encounter by saying 'Too late now cupcake'.

The chimes above the door rings as my temperament slowly turns animalistic. I'm a pretty chill person and for starters I make quite the impression but even the thought of someone swindling me right under my nose is maddening.

"Scream and I will shoot." A calm but deadly voice warns, "Put the money in the bag."

Not again, sweet mother of God - not again. I momentarily move my arm to properly face him. He's not dumb enough to rob the same place in a week so why is it that funny to me that his face is covered?

"Are you serious?" I snap, seeing exactly what I had thought.

"What?"

Angrily waving a very long but agitated finger at him, "You think that just because you robbed this place last week - you can rob it again now that you have your face covered?"

There is not a single doubt in my mind that I'll fall for that water-fill gun again. That one trick pony show won't deceive me because I need this job. It took me exactly forty seven days to find a job that sufficed. Not to mention the reasonable walking distance from the bus stop.

"What are you talking about?" Confusion weaves into the robber's demand.

"Dear lord, it's like talking to a brick wall!" I need to compose myself, "You're not getting anything."