ROGUE

Our Story

Dex's POV

The clatter of cans and the buzz of saws-a hardware store lives in a symphony of industry. Hammers sing off-key with nails, and the scent of fresh lumber is a persistent note, hanging heavy on the air like an old friend's cologne. I weave my way through aisles, past towers of paint buckets and bins brimming with every size screw imaginable. It's a maze designed by function, one I know by heart.

In every exchange, I leave a bit of myself, a sliver of who I am-or at least who they think I am. But there's a shadow that trails me, darkening the bright surface of my approachable nature. It's hungry, this shadow, fed by the quiet desperation that gnaws at the edges of my composed facade. It lingers, watches, waits for a sign of weakness. I am Dex-the friendly manager, the helpful colleague, the beating heart of a hardware store alive with the sound of progress.

Here's one thing life will teach you about being a manager at hardware store: you're not just responsible for keeping the shelves stocked and the customers happy; you also have to navigate the delicate dynamics between your coworkers. And trust me, there's nothing more delicate than navigating the minefield of workplace crushes.

For the past few months, I've been working side by side with Emily Thompson, a cashier who has the ability to brighten even the dreariest of days. Her smile is like a ray of sunshine, and her laugh is infectious. Every time I see her, my heart skips a beat.

But as much as I am drawn to her, I can't help but feel conflicted. See, I'm not exactly what you would call an expert in relationships. In fact, I've never really had a serious one. But with Emily, it's different. There's something about her that makes me want to be a better person. My younger brother Mark, who also works at the store, says that I should just take a chance and tell Emily how I feel. But it's not that simple. I can't risk losing her friendship, or worse, making her feel uncomfortable at her own workplace.

The thought of causing her any kind of distress terrifies me. So instead, I bury my feelings deep inside, locked away in the hidden chambers of my heart. During Emily's break, I observe her laughing and talking with Mark in the lumber department, their easy camaraderie a constant reminder that I can never truly have what I desire. It's both a blessing and a curse working with them, seeing their genuine connection while knowing that I can never be a part of it.

I find solace in the routine of our workdays together. The clinking of tools being restocked, the shuffle of customers' footsteps on the worn-out linoleum floor-it all creates a comforting symphony that drowns out the longing in my chest. In those moments, it's almost possible to forget about the ache inside me. Almost.

But there are times when the ache becomes unbearable, when I catch myself stealing glances at Emily when she's not looking, trying to memorize every feature of her face. I know it's wrong, I know I should stop, but the pull is too strong. It's like a gravitational force, always tugging me towards her.

I approach Emily cautiously, trying to mask my concern with a casual tone. "Hey, everything okay?" I ask, pretending not to notice the unease etched across her face.

Emily... her name is a whisper on the wind, a prayer for courage to breach the expanse that lay between us. My feelings for her, a gentle stream, that swells into a torrent, fierce and undeniable.

She hesitates for a moment before forcing a smile. "Yeah, Dex, everything's fine," she replies, her voice lacking the usual warmth that accompanies her words.

I glance over at Mark, whose eyes briefly meet mine before darting away. His usual easygoing demeanor is replaced with one of uneasiness. I can no longer ignore the truth that hangs heavily in the air between us.

Emily's forced smile and the tension in Mark's eyes weigh on me like an anchor, pulling me deeper into the abyss of my own desires. The truth I've been avoiding is staring me in the face, begging to be acknowledged. Emily is not okay, and it's because of me. Right?