Play Pretend

1: Trivial Dreams

1: Trivial Dreams

Connor Rogers

Two years had flown pass since then.

A loud crumble echoed across the entire convenience store, followed by a stunning silence. All the staff turned to stare at me and the pile of fallen goods next to me. I tried my hardest not to avoid their gazes.

"That'll... Be good for today, Connor," the manager stuttered, not approaching the scene, "good job."

I nodded, taking the cue to hurry to the back to change. As I strode past the counter, I could not help but hear the other two staffs – Tiana and Peggy – whispering.

"He's doing it again."

"What's a big hulk like him doing here anyways? He's always knocking things over."

"The manager's not helping at all as well. He can't just keep sending him home and having us clean up his mess."

I shot them a quick glance, and they silenced almost immediately, looking away.

I stumbled into the changing room and began to strip from the ghastly red and black uniform. The uniform came free from my head and I pressed my forehead on the locker, heaving a sigh.

There was no point in denying the facts - every word they said was true. I was not fit as an employee here. I was too big to walk down narrow isles like those. I was too mean-looking to be at the counter. I stood out like a sore thumb.

Making up my mind, I quickly slipped my jeans and hoodie back on before slamming the locker door shut. I passed the manager's office before I left and pasted a post-it on his door before rushing out of the store.

I'M QUITTING. THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING YOU'VE DONE.

* * *

"You quit? Again?" Carrie looked outrage, yet she did not lash out at me. Perhaps she was too tired of my repeated actions; or she was already used to it. Either way I was grateful - I couldn't bear another insult for the day.

"The employees hate me, and the manager's scared of me," I explained, sighing as I took a seat at the kitchen counter, "not exactly the most ideal workplace, I think?"

"No, not at all," Carrie agreed, turning back to feed her little baby girl, "but why would anyone be scared of you anymore? You've changed so much."

I laughed, nodding. It was true; my personality had changed so much during the course of two years since I had left high school. I rarely swore anymore, and most of the time I was so busy trying to find a job I didn't have time to pick fights.

But despite this drastic change, I still kept my gigantic size and my slightly menacing look. People never told me, but I could see it in their eyes; I was like a troll to them, mindless and dangerous. One stare would threaten their lives.

"Well, you would've gotten used to it, wouldn't you, Carrie?" I chuckled, "living with me for so long and all."

"Too long in fact," she said, wiping the dribbling food off of little Ginny's chin, "you've just turned twenty-one last week, and you're still living with your sister?"

"It's such a waste of time and money to find an apartment of my own," I explained, "besides, it's not like George is here all the time."

"You're just taking advantage of my husband travelling all the time aren't you?"

"You answer that yourself," I said with a cheeky grin, reaching into the fridge, my hand inching closer to the beer. I caught Carrie's spectating glance and chuckled, before bringing the cartoon of orange out of the fridge.