Wasted Talent // Modern Moomin AU [DISCONTINUED]

Chapter One: News Flash-- I Hate my Life

Darkness surrounded him as he opened his eyes. He groggily brushed his messy brunette hair out of his face. It was weird, it was growing light inside due to the early morning, but it was still plenty dark inside of Snufkin's aching heart. His head was aching too.

It never ended well when he worked overtime into the night, but he had to make do for the sake of supporting himself, and unfortunately, his father. 

Snufkin reluctantly crept out of bed, trying not to wake up his father. 

Then he mentally cursed at himself, he was passed out on the couch, sleeping like a rock. He could slit his throat on a good day, and he'd never even notice. 

 He shook those thoughts out of his head, and stumbled into the tiny kitchen in their house, and began to make himself coffee. He drank it slowly, peering at his reflection in the microwave.

He's tired, sunken eyes. 

His matted brunette hair hadn't been properly washed in weeks. 

The dark circles were growing heavier each day he worked at that damn restaurant. 

Snufkin let out a sigh, for the millionth time in his life, and didn't even have time to finish his coffee before he headed out of the house, for another cruel day of hell and "May I take your order?" to people that could never understand.

-

Snufkin tipped the bus driver with a nod, taking a seat and burying his head into his hands.

Life was going so downhill for him, and no one even cared. His sister would watch his sanity crack apart each day and buy some more Chanel just for the heck of it. Or maybe some other expensive popular brand.

Even his former best friend wouldn't talk to him. He was too engrossed in his 'smitten' relationship with Snufkin's enemy-- ... but he didn't want to think of it now.

It seemed like everyone was living with money and love except for him.

He nearly crushed his head into the seat in front of him when the bus stopped. He whipped his head to see out the window and saw the cursed restaurant that he worked at. Its glowing lights made him want to cry some more.

Just before Snufkin exited the bus, he pulled out a sharpie from his uniform pocket (that he had slept in to save time) and scribbled a fake mustache onto his face. 

Then he got out and reluctantly stepped into Le Dîner De Snork, the 'fancy' restaurant.

God, he hated that restaurant.

"May I take your order, sir?" He asks as enthusiastically as he could. Even with his efforts, which failed spectacularly, the man and daughter didn't seem to notice.

"Yeah. Uh, can you get me some ice water, but no ice? My daughter's teething and the cold hurts her teeth." 

Snufkin could feel his hair falling out. He gave a tired smile. "Of course." 

Fuck him, he could have some tap water.

Snufkin walked away, and filled up a glass cup. He returned to the man, handing him the cup. "Anything else, sir?" 

"Nah. Just water." 

Snufkin blinked, incredulous. He asked, "Are you sure? Nothing else? No food? Nothing?" 

"Nah. I just come here for free water." 

Snufkin gave the longest sigh he'd ever produced in his life, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The water isn't free, sir."