The Boyband in my Basement

Chapter One : Saturdays

"Humanity takes itself too seriously. It is the world's original sin. If the caveman had known how to laugh, history would have been different" 

- Oscar Wilde

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(05/7/'21)

Screech!

The brakes on Diane Lovers mothers shitty blue minivan squeal quite loudly, as she turns left at a red light, the last intersection before her workplace. But as always, some old MCR song is blasting on the borderline broken stereo, so she can't even hear the brakes that everyone else can.  

She's running fairly late to her afternoon shift at her part-time job, McDonalds. A pretty average job for a 16 year old. But, obviously, she has a very valid reason to be late. She couldn't decide which Doc Martens she was going to wear today. Her black ones, her red ones, or her Mary Janes. 

She went with her Mary Janes. 

She found a parking spot on the end of the employee parking section, next to the drive thru. Great. Best spot in town, she thought... Not. 

She grabbed her blue tote bag with her uniform in it, because she was already too late to change at home, and stepped out of her car. She strode over to the back door, and walked in, as casually as if she was early. Or at least on time. 

She was greeted with the usual strong smell that came from fast food restaurants, which was grease. Hamburgers, fries, chicken nuggets, what have you. The other thing she was slapped in the face with as the door had swung open, was the loud chatter coming from what she knew was the afternoon rush. It was Saturday. At 1:30 pm (or rather 1:51 today). She worked that time, of that day of the week, almost every week, and it was extremely predictable now that it was always packed.

Though, she worked  every Saturday, her favourite co-worker Zayn Malik was there every second Saturday. This week was one of the weeks he'd be here, and she was almost looking forward to seeing him. Maybe. You'll never know. 

She walked a few paces down a short, dimly lit hallway, and pushed the rusty red women's bathroom door oped with her forearm. It was empty. She picked the handicap stall, since no one was using it, and she figured it would probably be overall easier to change in. 

She dug her crumpled (She was too busy with school this week to do laundry, so its still gross and grimy from last weeks grease) uniform out of her bag, and slipped it on. 

She stuffed her regular clothes, black skinnies with a blue tee, back into her bag without much thought, and unlocked the stall door and pushed it open. She walked over to the closest sink and dug something else out from her bag.

A hairnet. 

Her short blond hair was too short to put up in a pony tail, but too long just to leave out. She placed her bag next to her feet, and put both palms into the hairnet, and placed it atop her golden feathers. Once it was carefully placed, she wiggled it around to make sure it looked alright. Zayn was always teasing her about how her hair looked, and although she didn't mind, she still tried to prevent it to the best of her abilities. She peered at her reflection, and let out a heavy sigh into the thick air of the restaurant. 

She leaned down and grabbed her bag in her right hand, and sauntered out of there, swaying her hips. 

Seconds, and a few steps later she arrived behind the counter at the restaurant. She still had her bag in hand, so she turned and started walking to the back, where she always left her bag. If she didn't put it there, she would forget it, and yes, she had leaned that the hard way.