New Beginnings || PURPLEPHONE

Chapter 3

Scott was dreading returning to work.

He had left after the embarrassment with being scared by Vincent and Mike, eager to return home. He stayed in bed and didn't get up again until he had to come back.

     Scott found it rather odd how Vincent had been acting around him lately. Surprisingly, he'd seemed more reluctant to scare Scott or do anything that would generally hurt him mentally, physically or emotionally.

     Now, Vincent had been seemingly trying to get closer to him, despite all of Scott's remarks to leave him alone.

     Seriously, since when did "Vincent, fuck off" mean "Take me now, immediately"?

Whatever.

Scott wandered into the restaurant to prepare for his night-shift. Was he excited? Admittedly, yes, a little bit. Was he happy about staying up all night by himself with a bunch of robots? No, definitely not.

There was a screeching sound of car tires against asphalt somewhere behind him, and Scott jumped and dropped the keys on the ground before he could finish unlocking the door.

Son of a bitch, this is going to be a long night.

After he'd picked up his keys and unlocked the door, he turned to see who had decided to come to a restaurant like this at half-hour to midnight.

"Hey there, sunshine."

SON. OF. A. BITCH.

"Why are you here? I'm doing night-shift tonight," Scott crossed his arms and frowned. "I'm not happy with you, so I suggest you go home before I deck you in that pretty face of yours."

"You think I'm pretty?" Vincent smiled in that idiotic way, completely ignoring the rest of Scott's comment on purpose. "I'm here because the boss sent me here, Scotty-boy. He told me I had to help you tonight."

     "I don't need your help," Scott was quick to answer. "I don't associate with narcissists."

     Vincent couldn't really think of a way to respond to that, so all he said was, "You look in the mirror every time you walk by one."

     Scott made a little noise that sounded like a mix of a groan and a laugh, "There's a huge difference between being self-conscious and being narcissistic."

Vincent was going to say something else, but by the time he had opened his mouth, Scott was inside the building and making his way towards the office.

     Scott had a few moments of peace and quiet, sitting alone in the swivel chair, until Vincent came in. He didn't look at him, until he heard a small clicking sound coming from Vincent's direction.

     "Vincent, lighter goes away. You can't smoke in a small space, not with me in here." Scott reached out and grabbed the lighter, taking it away from the other male.

     "Lighten up, Scotty. Cigarettes help me relax."

     "You can smoke and get lung disease all you want to. But I will not be exposed to secondhand smoke, I actually have a life to look forward to, and whether or not you're around I'll continue it." Scott stared at the monitors when he heard the small bell chime, signaling midnight. His shift had started.

     Only six hours left to go.

     "God, you're mean, Scott." Vincent shook his head. "I guess it's true what they say about short people. They're angry."

     "First of all, I'm five-foot six. I'm not short, I'm average." Scott rolled his eyes. "Second of all, it's not my fault that you're six-foot-whatever."

     "Six-foot three."

     "Again, it doesn't matter to me. Shut up and do your job before I get you fired." Scott picked up a crumpled piece of paper that was on the desk and chucked it at Vincent, watching as the paper hit him on the side of the head.

     Much to Scott's delight, Vincent finally stopped talking.

------

     Six a.m. came far slower than Scott had hoped for.

     Unfortunately for him, the night had been full of Vincent's constant flirting and stupid jokes, and it eventually pissed Scott off so much that he actually considered locking Vincent outside the office for the rest of the night.

     The night-shift had been one very long bad dream. He hated it already and didn't want to return back, though he knew he had to. He just didn't know what he'd do about Vincent, because oh my God, Vincent, if you complain one more time about your ex-boyfriend dumping you, I'm going to break up with you, and we're not even dating.

     Of course, the night hadn't been all bad.

     Most of the time, Vincent had actually stopped pestering Scott when he asked him to stop, but did continue again half an hour later. Still, it was something.

     He said nothing to Vincent as he got back in his car and started to drive home. Scott needed sleep and food, and he was pretty sure his hedgehog needed feeding.

     When he was finally able to curl up in bed, before he closed his eyes and after he had thought about the night he'd spent with Vincent, he thought that maybe the night-shift wouldn't be so awful after all.