single stories

lights low, mouth open

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° s t o r y °

josh is a slob when it comes to the theater and tyler is just trying to do his job.

dedicated to the nsfw gc that i'm in on twitter. i love u all.

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It was a Wednesday, and Tyler was fucking tired.

His boss had just explained a situation in theater 10, that there was this guy being a fucking slob, and honestly, he was even more exhausted in seeing that this slob has thrown popcorn absolutely everywhere. There was no exception to the drink being spilt upon the dirty, black marble, intrusive against the yellow corn, and his dirty ass shoes high above him on a dainty, metal bar before him. The bucket of red and white was still seated in his lap, against his grey hoodie, as he munched happily to the credits being rolled by.

'Why even stay after just to watch the credits?

And for a movie that doesn't even get a lot revenue.'

Tyler's presence was unknown, and it frustrated him.

"Hello?" He said in an annoyed tone, eyebrows furrowed, and plump lips holding a frown.

"Can't you see I'm watching here?" The slob snapped back, eyes sending daggers into the brunet's petite-self, and getting those widened, doe-eyes. "You can clean up when I'm done, Cinderella."

Tyler gasped, irritation running through his veins as his grip on the trash can by his side, tightened, and he couldn't stop those plump lips from moving.

"You need to fucking leave, before I have to bring you out myself."

"You?" The slob scoffed, sharp eyes in disbelief as he sized the brunet up, while licking his salty lips up. "You're nothing but small."

"Small-" Tyler squeaked out, face warming up from distressed as he began to tremble, finger tips trembling as he squinted his eyes up at the slob. "Why're you even watching the credits!? There's nothing that leads up at the end, you slob!"

The pink hue only smirked, tipping off the rest of the popcorn on the floor before throwing the empty bucket up a row. Tyler stood in shock, doe-eyes wide, and plump lips a gaped. He didn't even notice as the slob brushed passed him, the warmth pervading and eyes in vexation.

"Have fun cleaning up, your highness."

Tyler sharply turned to him to only meat the slob bowing down to him, and giving him one last cynical chuckle and a subtle wave before heading down the pathway to the front door.

When he turned back to the incredulous mess, he whined in exasperation.

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It was the fourth, yes fourth, Wednesday in a row where he got the same call from his manager about the infuriating pink hue that so desperately loved to dirty up the theater's floors and chairs around him.

Tyler was furious, because it was the same annoyance from the many Wednesday's that he would have to deal with, yet fucking again. His hand tightened and tightened the more he got closer to theater 14, and grimaced at the heavy door as he heaved it open.