His Claws On My Neck [Completed]

Chapter 7: Ruckus in the Restaurant

Days quickly passed by and Leal remained true to her words. 

She never again walked along the streets of that company, let alone wander anywhere near it. She luckily got a job at a famous fast-food restaurant. Though it was a big decrease in her expected salary, she accepted it. She couldn't resist her conscience every time Izzy would pull out her credit card everywhere. She was another heavy baggage for her friend and she couldn't handle not being able to contribute to the expenses. 

So today, here she is. Wiping the floor, with an apron and a belt filled with spray bottles, cloth wipes, and other cleaning materials. 

From her stable and perfect job, she rocketed down to being a restaurant janitor. She heaved a sigh after mopping the polished concrete floor and leaned her back on the wall. It was a big punch to her pride, but she could get over this. She values her conscience and self-worth more than her pride. 

"Leal!" Her manager called out. She immediately stood up from her slacked posture and held her mop tighter. 

"Yes, Sir?" 

"Clean table four." 

She immediately nodded and placed the mop back on the drying rack in the janitor's room before pulling out her cloth wipe and briskly walking to the dirty table. For weeks, all she had been doing was to come early at work, stay there until her shift ends, and probably catch another one for a sick colleague, then go home to Izzy's flat and clean—since it was the only type of payment she could give for now. In just less than a week, she'll be receiving her first income, and she couldn't wait to give it to Izzy. 

—

"Izzy, take this." 

Leal smiled as she handed a white envelope to Izzy. The latter, who still had a measuring tape around her neck, frowned at her and inspected the envelope. 

"What's this?" 

"It's for letting me stay here for months now," she chuckled as Izzy hesitantly accepted it. 

"This better not be cash, Leal—" 

She stopped herself when she opened the envelope. Inside was a thick stash of bills. Izzy sighed and rolled her eyes. 

"I told you, you don't need to pay me for letting you live here. Just use this to buy groceries or your clothes, Leal." 

"But still—" she insisted but Izzy quickly slid the envelope into Leal's pocket. 

"No buts. I don't need money, Leal. I just want you to feel better." 

Izzy winked at her. Leal's heart once again warmed at her kind friend's remark and chuckled. Though she knows Izzy's never short of money, since she's one of the freelance designers with the highest fees, she couldn't help but feel sorry for the extra expenses Izzy needs to pay for with just her being here. 

"Just take it, Izzy. Please, for the sake of my conscience," she muttered. Izzy intently looked at her shaking her head and sighing, but nevertheless grabbing the envelope. 

"Fine," she conceded, "But I'll use this to buy only the groceries and nothing else. The remaining money should be deposited to your bank, Leal. You need to save up." 

—

The following day, Leal was still dripping with sweat as she walked every other minute from table to table, serving customers and cleaning tables. She's been catching the shifts of her other colleagues who seem to always report sick or get fired because of poor customer behavior. 

Her work began to be obnoxiously suffocating, taking up all her time, and making her do overtime without the proper overtime pay. What started out as being a janitress, added the job of being the waitress, and then the cashier, even the bouncer.