Tranquility ✧ Syndisparklez

Ew.

Ew. I hate everyone and everything. Kate, that little bitch. What the fuck? Am I right? Like, what person just takes over your job? That's my job, I was hired to do it, how about you kindly fuck off now, thanks. And fuck you for making me write this Andor. It's a waste of my time, and it's doing no good for me. I don't have MPD. I've always been Tucker, you shit. Go back to college and stop worrying people with these shit diagnoses, that aren't real.

Tucker.

I slowly shuffled over to the mirror. My dirty-blonde hair was combed over neatly to the side. I slipped on my pokemon jacket, before winking at my own reflection.

Gotta go to this shit job again.

I hastily grabbed my keys, stomping out the door.

"Oh, hey Jordan!" I heard some British twat call after me. What the hell could he possibly want? Idiot doesn't even know my name.

"Fuck off..." I mummbled, getting into my car. I listened to the beautiful noise of my tires squealing as I sped away.

I blew past stop signs, ran red lights, dodged pedestrians. So far it's a fairly good day. Those idiots should've been watching out for me, besides, who crosses the street when the light is red? Not to mention, what freak walks these days?

I entered the stupid café, only to be ridiculed with shouts from Manager Red-Bitch.

"Not only are you late, but your wearing a leather jacket? You know that's against our dress code, take it off. We only wear the t-shirt. No accessories, no exceptions," he ranted, his face as red as a tomato.

"Jesus, take the jacket, just get off my back," I snapped, throwing my blue and white jacket at him. I watched as the bright jacket faded into boring brown leather while Red-Beard was holding it.

"What has gotten into you Maron?" he asked.

"The hell'd you just call me?" I asked, hovering over this guy. I puffed out my chest, probably causing a scene, but I didn't care.

"Maron. That's your name," he barked.

"Fuck no that's not my name, the hell is with you people?" I shouted, raising my voice to match his level. I snatched my jacket out of his hands, watching it spring back to it's usual blue and white color.

I appropriately flashed him my beautiful middle finger, before exiting that dump with style.

Fuck you Dine at Night, you'll probably miss me. Everyone does.