Grotesque

Getting into a rut.

"That'll be 11,96," Tooru said, his black eyes boring into the scared bright caramel eyes of the teenager who clearly was not old enough to be consuming any type of liquor, much less with infused tequila. "ID, please."A shaky hand outstretched and in between his fingers, a sticky ID card was given to him. If he were someone that cared for the youth, he'd pull the beers back, for the mess of blond tufts of hair did not match the orange curls in front of him, but he didn't care enough. The ID was slid back to the kid, and he let out an annoyed sigh. "Cash or credit?"

It's not like he was a bad person, or that he wanted the youth to waste itself away in a ditch filled with vomit and rancid breakfast, he simply didn't care enough. In fact, currently, there was only one thing he cared about enough to invest in it.
It was not his job, that was for sure.
Tooru was no friendly neighbourhood hero.

The shoddy, rough looking gas station that smelt of mouldy walls was not what he envisioned when he was a young teen filled with dreams and a band, crowds cheering their name and girls lining up to slobber all over him. He wanted the glitz and the glam, the money wasting, the drug dealer on speed dial, the big mansions and even bigger parties. The reality was far less glamorous, however.
The gas station was way too small and nothing like a Playboy mansion, the shelves were barely ever emptied or the food exchanged and in five hours, maybe he'd get a half baked costumer looking for a very, very specific snack that he did not have. Sure, they provided food, and as he spun a little on the small stool, he could see the kitchen where they'd pre-heat dollar store corn dogs and present it out front, underneath a glowy, warm yellow light to make it seem edible; but personally, he'd rather starve than eat those. A ceiling fan that swirled hot air and dust around the room maintained a white noise symphony along with the TV that hung above his head, displaying some late night bloodied new caster, making a huge deal out of stolen chips. His fingers drummed against his own thigh the notes that would never be a hit song and he fell silent once more, descending into the greyness of his thoughts.

The bell of the door brought him from his daydreaming (if one could call wallowing in self-pity and replaying past mistakes that), his sunken eyes shot up from the crack on the broken counter up to his co-worker. A young looking, blond girl with blotches of dried paint in her hair. She had a cheeky smile, rosy lips and a flirty attitude, which won her employee of the month for the last four months she worked there. Tooru was also aware that she was an art major, that she was passionate for photography and that one of her dreams was studying wildlife in the Amazon forest. He could try and lie to himself that he wished she'd get out of the gas station and on to a better job once graduated, but he knew the dark underbelly of society and how quick it was to crush plans for the future. She'd rot in that place with him.

"Hi, Hi Tooru!" She said in a chirpy voice, walking past him while tying her hair, the shirt that she wore lifting slightly to reveal her toned (but with crusty, blue paint) skin underneath. "I'm so sorry I'm late! I had to babysit the neighbours' kid and man, oh man! Tweens are sooo annoying these days..." She'd go on and on, talk about her boss and his creepy stare, and how his wife always smelled of cheap whiskey and how the kids refused to leave the videogame to do their homework. Tooru barely seemed there, but she appreciated the sentiment."Cool. Have fun. I'm clocking out." He said, clearing his throat as he heard the girl coming back from the employee's room that they also used as a makeshift dressing room. Standing up with a groan and cracking his back, then neck, he made his way inside to change his clothes, almost bumping into the poor lady.

The changing room was exactly what one would expect. A blocky, square room with two metal lockers that often didn't close all the way, so they'd make do with actual locks in order to keep their things safe.
Tooru removed the old white polo shirt, apron and blue jeans, folding the three items and placing them neatly inside his locket, only to remove a pair of ripped black jeans, a white stained tank top and a baggy sweatshirt that he wore on top, with the cap up and shielding not only his eyes but face from external influences and people in general.