Was That too Rude?

Beats. (Chapter Two with a rant from cancer)

A/N before I head straight into the memes, I just wanna say that half of the fan fiction of Joji Miller makes me get crippling depression. Worse than fucking Stomedy, Jesus Christ. The multiple parts of cringe that grew under my skin was harsh. I mean, I'm not saying this one is any better, it's fucking horrible. This is fucking cancer. This story is like that one story that you wanna put a hamster in a sock and slam it on the ground, I over use fucking words and try to describe things in a good way but I just come off as retarded. But the fucking fanfictions that I personally did not like made me fucking actually want to become a radical feminist so I never have another feeling for men ever. The fact that they had rape and Joji just being there and just go *SHOVE* RAWR XD WANNA DATE !?!? or fucking me just meeting them and getting fucked in the ass makes me so fucking just cringe. So I mean, I just wanted to say if this story becomes that, please alert me. I don't want that cancer to be in my fucking past. (LOL ALREADY IS LOL BEN DROWNED FAN FICS) Alright, bye faggots, enjoy this the five people with a flesh light in hand. Also this gets a bit mature so, before warning before I get a strike, it just describes a pair of TEETS. By the way, the plots a bit odd but I had too. comedic burp here
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You received the outfit as you walked towards the small room near the back room, which had a cat on it to indicate it was a bathroom for woman. You entered, still noticing the douchebag squad still was there. You sighed, knowing you were gonna have to stay with them for the hours till work, since you had no reason to go home and really didn't wanna get lost in Brooklyn, and watch them made you get goosebumps crawl down your skin, making your skin feel like a chickens claw. You shivered, clutching the dress that you were forced to wear to advertise the establishment. You slowly walked into the dark vast of space, soon finding a light to switch it on, seeing yourself immediately in the mirror. Your face was vast, your (skin color) showing hints of dirt around. Your hair became greasy and your eyes were droopy. You got so much sleep, but it looked like you lived in Israel and worried that your about to get engulfed in flames by Pakistan. You pressed your hand against your cheek, caressing your thumb over your cheek. Your voice escaped a 'hm' out of your throat, closing your eyes and then gritting your teeth. You were slightly rethinking this retarded idea. You groaned as your eyes snapped back, seeing yourself still in the mirror. You inspected yourself as you felt a bolt of back pain from that shit bed, causing you to twist yourself to look away from the mirror. You did it again, thoughts sweeping through. You were already ready to give out even though it hasn't started. You've always been that one person that comes to reality after you do something, sometimes the reality deep and dark and engulfed you like the troll eating Dora's answers and soon giving her the bridge. You sighed and took off your shirt, revealing what laid underneath it which was just a bra and now your yoga pants. You moved your hands away from your face, and now to your back with your wide set shoulders. You store at yourself as you got the clasp off. For some reason, you just wanted to release your breasts being they've been in your nude shade bra for two days straight. You looked deep in the mirror, seeing you breathe in and out. You saw your neck go in as you breathed in, your color bones pop out, you felt around your body, still contemplating how you will pull of your dream. You saw your breasts that were there. You very much had no purpose for them, you're a virgin who's never had a boyfriend. Why would you? You shook your head as you got back on your bra to cover your nude breasts, taking off your wasted, torn pink Vans and your jeans. Your underwear was now visible as you sighed. It'd be nice to change into a fresh pair instead of these old tan ones. Fuck not having that stupid suitcase, why would you not fucking remember it. You rubbed your forehead and decided to let it go, there's no point dreading on it if you can't do anything to change it. You pulled on the dress, having to unzip the back as the two in zipped prices fell away. You looked again in the mirror and fixed your hair into a small/large ponytail. The dress was short, and looked like something a maid would wear, but in a baby blue shade instead of black, which you obviously weren't a big fan of. You looked down to see the dress hugged your sides, only to prove you that it wasn't too bad. It was worse. You sighed and picked up your clothes that were plopped on the floor, disregarded. You pulled on your shoes, tying them to perfection. You stood up, your shoulders down, showing that you were obviously not comfortable in this outfit and that you obviously wanted to die at this moment, but that didn't matter.
You stepped out of the bathroom, revealing to the douche squad that indeed were a woman! Fun times. Before they could make any remarks on your appearance, you walked into the back room to put your items away. When you walked back out, douche squad was gone. They only ones left were Driver Man and George the Amazing Douche. But of course, you walked over and sat down. The assholes were assholes, but it's nice to kill time, no matter how much it made you grow (CRIPPLING DEPRESSED) angry, you could shrug it off. The George guy was wiping the paint off him, smearing it on an old rag that driver guy, (you presumed) carried. It was standing the white towel into a deep royal blue, making you even more questionable on his mental state. Was he actually fucking retarded? You do not wanna fall into that pit. You noticed the navy blue spray cans rolled around the table, soon stopping. You crossed your arms as you looked up at Driver Man, helping George the Amazing Douche. "Look, can't you see we're doing something here?" He mumbled, helping his friend with the paint on his back. He didn't even move an eye or even move a muscle that wasn't his lips. Everything was static and still. He seemed to be shooing you, but you didn't take it in such a way. "Isn't that really gay to do, to clean off another man?" You questioned him, rolling back into your chair, spreading your legs so you were comfortable. He looked across, raising his eyebrow. "Isn't it slutty to wear such a dress and to open up your legs?" This time, George looked up and at you, pinpointing you down. "You should really close your legs in such a fine establishment, no one wants to smell fish." He smiled and you could tell behind his Spider-Man glasses that he decided to put back on, his eyes were closed to show how funny he felt that joke was. "You should really shut your mouth, we don't want the room smelling like a Doritos bag, do we?" He seemed a bit surprised by the joke, a bit token back, to be exact. "Did you just steal a Leafy joke?" You smirked on how he caught that. Ok, even if you never very much watch YouTube, you do watch a bit of the cyberbully LeafyisQueefy, but not to much. Only enough to actually repeat some vital lines. This threw the man off, being he thought woman didn't like those types of things. He had a mostly male viewing and he guessed Leafy does as well, but it seems like he was thrown off his own game. He swallowed down some saliva that grew in his mouth as he went back to rubbing the wet paint that glistened down his body, trickling down, off. "Maybe." You snorted slightly as Driver Guy looked over at you. "Than you must know who we are, right?" He raised a brow, looking at you as if you knew what the fuck he was talking about. "You're like his family or something?" Car driver man was about to answer, before George answered himself. "No, he's just pulling off a gag, we have no affiliation with him accept love for him," he stated as you couldn't see, but as he kicked the driver guy. Driver Guy mouthed a paining grunt, as he came to terms with the thing. "Well, now you will know who we are. I'm Ian." He breathed in as he announced. "And having being you work here, you'll probably see me more often since I'm stay in New York for a month or two. The other two faggots are leaving next week." Before you could ask, he provided the answer. "They live in Australia but come up here to see George, vice versa." He looked at you, his gaze slightly intimidating as he stopped helping out his blue friend. He intertwined his hands, his fingers locking in place as he placed them on the table, leaning in more towards you. "And you?" "(Your name)," you answered with a blank stare as Ian unraveled in the chair, George soon stopping to wipe off all the paint. "This isn't coming off, I might as well keep it for the rest of the night," he whispered, looking at the two of you who were now just staring off at each other. "Lovebirds, please except the third wheel before (Y/N) is gargling down your dick, Ian." He also turned to you as he said this, adding, "Call me Joji, by the way. Everyone thinks I'm a fucking director cause of my name, but ignore that shit." You nodded, looking at him and really taking his face in. You hate to admit it, he was attractive. He had a chiseled jaw and a nice scruff and a bit of a beard around his Cupid's bow and his chin, running down his jawline. His eyes were a black coffee color, as you could still notice the pupil that was in his eye, it was slightly dilated. He store back at you, taking in your details, but not very much caring. He then turned to Ian who was obviously offended by the comment. "I was just talking to her, you fucking pervert." He huffed out, narrowing his eyebrows in disgust. "Wow, alright." You said aloud and scuffed quietly to his reaction. "I'm that bad?" "No, but we just fucking met, Jesus George." He looked over as Joji shrugged and laughed lightly. "Calm down, tumblr maninist." He looked over at you and he raised a brow. "Hey by the way, this is my way of making money tonight, don't fuck this up." He was a bit angered, and his tone was straight down serious. "But this is a café," You felt it was weird for a café to be open past 3 PM, let alone have a fucking DJ. "Why would it need a DJ-" "Producer." He corrected. Ian sat there as he listened to Joji ramble on to you how he was important to this café, how this was important to him, and how the café was open passed 3. Ian opened his mouth, and said the only thing you really needed to know from Joji's rambling. "It's open because the owner would like to turn this fine establishment into a fine nightclub. He's not making any money with this shit café, so he was thinking of buying out the building next to this one and making a night club out of the whole. That's also why you will be waitressing tonight," He smiled yet again at you, pushing up his glasses as he started up again and explained himself with hand motions. "You're being tested to see if you could be a waitress in the new club. You'll probably be wearing a whoreish outfit, even though that one really is for a whore." He didn't want to offend you, but he was saying the truth and you obviously accepted it. You looked like a sexy maid on Halloween. "Real question is, I look like a ten dollar whore right now, will the price go up or down?" He laughed at your joke, George now leaning back, feeling less needed as he chuckled at your joke. "With such a nice face as you got, probably a fourteen dollar prostitute." You laughed at his flirtation coming out, George feeling even less needed, but of course you then included him in it. "Joji, what price would I be at. What are the fellow boys about to pay for me." You raised both brows as you grinned. "About 5 cents," he joked, making you laugh. "What would you pay for me, Joji?" The question just seemed natural to ask, but it did take George back. He looked at Ian, who was also taken back. "Are you asking me to fuck you?" He looked at you and you realized what you said might of come across as that. "No, like if I was a hooker, what would you buy me for, y'know. We just met yesterday, I'd never," "I don't know, maybe seventeen to make you feel better after my cancer spreads through you." You were interrupted by his joke, that made you laugh. Ian shook his head as he knew what Joji meant by the cancer part, but he thought you got it too, so he kept to himself.
Hours passed, you all bonding over things that you never very much talked about. The Internet, offensive jokes, even politics. Where you grew up for a woman to be into such manly things meant you were lesbian. So lesbian. You were talking about your home place as the two said how gay that was, and shit like that. It was nice to know they weren't such douches. Or maybe you're just a fucking asshole, honestly you wouldn't be very surprised. Joji pulled out a blue iPhone, rippled with cracks and parts of glass completely falling off. He opened up the phone icon and than asked you the one question you were kind of guessing. "Yo, what's your number?" He asked so nonchalantly, but it was obvious it wasn't for romantic reasons. You shrugged and said out your number, and then adding, "If you want it too, Ian." Ian shrugged and laughed slightly. "Sure, I don't know what I'd text you, but alright." He admitted as you shrugged. You looked out the window as you saw the sky grow dark, Ian and Joji soon following your eyes and looking outside. Ian stood up, brushing the dirt off his knees and telling Joji that he'll be right back, he's just getting some grub. "Want any?" He questioned the two of you and you shrugged, causing his reaction to be a nod as he left the restaurant. Joji looked over at you as a silence grew between you two. He looked at you as he cleared his throat, some tension growing. "I noticed you don't have a car," You sadly sighed as you nodded. "Yeah, mine got towed and the government won't give it back being I'm not in Florida any more." Joji laughed in surprise at the fact you said Florida. "That shit hole?" He questioned as you nodded, sighing and shaking your head, one hand holding your forehead, covering half of your eyesight. You smiled. "Yeah, Tampa." He laughed even more. "Are you like, seventy, what the fuck?" He yelled the question, causing your new coworkers to be taken back. You laughed, though, the attention it brought you wasn't too bad. "Yeah. Why were you asking? Want another way to make fun of me?" He looked at you, shaking his head. "Nah, just wondering if you'd like me to drive you. I don't want you to fucking get shanked or something now that we're basically working with each other." You felt flattered at the question as you said a silent "Yes", causing him to smirk and nod. "That's cool man, but you might have to drive me around sometimes once you get a new car," Was he assuming that you were going to stay in this job? That's fucking hilarious. Or maybe he's assuming that we'll be friends for that long, which is sweet but you have never had a friend that lasted for a long time. "Sure," you soon said after a while of consideration. He nodded towards your statement. "Good, cause I wouldn't give you rides otherwise, I'm not that fucking nice." He got up, signaling you a bit of a goodbye as he winked. "I'll be getting my smoke on, plus it's eight, don't you have shit to do?" He grinned as he got out of the place. That was the last time you saw him after two shit, which he was true with the "don't you have shit to do?". You walked over to Betsy who gave you a list of orders. You looked at the list with the sloppy pen writing. You had to move a bunch of the shit out of the back that had a bunch of speakers and old records. You picked it up once at a time, the items causing your back to grow in pain as you slowly groaned. It's been an hour and finally you got all of the speakers and equipment out to the area where the poetry area. You weren't surprised by the fact that the café still looked pretty big, it made sense. The other girls managed to get out all the tables as you were struggling with the equipment, which was pretty fucking shit by the way, the put the tables in there. You give them props. You leaned on the equipment as you saw the lights dimmed. You understood why the owner would also wanna make this into a nightclub too. New York had many, and they made money. But to have one with no reserves? Plus this was huge, it looked like an abandoned dance room. You shook your head as you saw one girl pull up the sign that looked that a 51 year old autistic man who wanted to be hip pulled up. Of course, it only made sense. You leaned over the equipment as you finally saw Ian walk back in, Joji not following behind. He held a to-go box that was filled of dumplings and some egg rolls, which you were confused. He scratched his neck as he laughed. "You'll be working for a while, I thought you might just like some food even that you didn't want any. You owe me ten bucks, too. Faggot." He laughed as he looked around. "There's no tables?" He looked at you, confused. "That's retarded." You shrugged, pointing to the outside. "Might as well eat outside, but it'll have to be quick as fuck, boy." He laughed. "Classic Keemstar." He whispered as he lead you out the door to find a table to sit down and eat. You looked around, shrugging. "I might as well just freestyle." "That's what she said. L O L, comedic relief, guys." Joji. Ian rolled his eyes at the cancerous joke. "Please never say that ever again." He grunted as you laughed at the two, eating the dish with a small plastic fork. You covered you mouth as you got reminded the fact Joji's shit. "Your shits in there, by the way. You can get set up or some shit." He grinned at your comment. "You want to hear my sick beats," You shrugged as he grinned even wider, having to close his eyes because of the crinkles in his face. Ian took out the cigarette in Joji's mouth, throwing it on the ground. "Yeah, I wonder what you'll play." He seemed genuine curious, but Joji knew what he really was talking about. PinkOmega.
It was an hour and now it was the start of the "Nightclub Test". You sat in the corner as Joji took out his Mac from a messenger bag that he brought from home. He put it on a little table top, Ian watching him next to you while standing next to you. "So Max and Chad are coming later on, probably to see your super hot beats," he talked in an odd accent when he said 'super hot beats', making you snort. "Fail. You gonna go PinkOmega?" Joji ignored him as he played around with the sound track. You soon saw people start to come in, questionable. You cracked your back, waving the boys goodbye as Joji nodded, putting on some song quote. "Let's all go to the lobby, let's all go to the lobby," you heard and then it turned into some beat, which was actually nice. You walked into the area to get drinks, giving them out like Xanax, asking others if they'd enjoy it. The beats grew louder as Joji started rapping, which made you surprised. You stayed in the corner as you watched him rap as he was pretty talented. You watched more people come in as he played more of the beats, you nodding along. The night became flooded, all you saw were people and drinks you gave out. Joji continued his beats that you kind of liked, as you watched the people get wasted and blitz. You laughed. Soon Betsy, though, decided it was enough and kicked everyone out. You walked out and stayed near the door as everyone cascading through the night. You waited for the two faggots, as you tapped your thigh with your hands. You soon saw the Asian you were looking for who waved off his friends. He shoved his hands in his shorts. He lead you forward to find his car as he soon stopped and looked at you. "What do you wanna be?" He looked serious as he licked his lips. You laughed uncomfortably as you realized it was such a weird question. "Why?" You scratched your neck when he pressed his lips against each other. "Because you don't move to Brooklyn in some cheap ass apartment with a waitress job for no fucking reason." He admitted, soon looking forward and starting to walk. "So what do you wanna be?" You sighed under your breath, soon letting out the dream word. "Comedian." "A what?" His voice was more demanding than it was before as he dug his hands deeper in his pockets. "Comedian," you said louder, biting your bottom lip. He flipped his hair as he smiled in the dark. "Chase for it, you don't need to live in such shitty conditions." You blinked, confused how he noticed. But you decided to go against the urge of asking the fine question. "What about you, Francois of the Filthiest?" You joked as he looked back and let out a laugh. "A producer. Probably also a comedian, but I mean. It doesn't fucking matter," You felt a bit offended as you looked over at him. "What the fuck do you mean?" He scratched his neck as you two finally got to a parking lot. "Just for me, like I don't want it too bad. But if you want it, go for it. I think it's good, I was worried you were about to say you wanted to go to fucking art school." He laughed and you replied with a: "College is already a waste of money but fucking art school? Retarded." He nodded as he pointed out his shit car. "You ready to go home now, dude?"