𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 y/n finds herself locked out of her apartment and is rescued by the cute boy next door.
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𝐚𝐤𝐚 an excuse to pack a ton of fluffy cliches into one story
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Y/n leaned back against the elevator wall as the door slowly closed before her barely-open eyes. Sighing heavily and hearing the tell-tale sound of the thump that signified the doors were officially closed, she shut her eyes the rest of the way. She was alone in the elevator, and if she were lucky it would stay that way all the way to the eleventh floor where she lived. It would be the first thing to go right today.
Living in Florida on her own wasn't cheap, not that she had expected it to be. Y/n had found a waitressing gig as soon as she came to town to help cover her expensive bills, and had taken up a second (and much preferred) job as a photographer for a magazine based in the city soon after. As much as she'd love to quit her first job, there just wasn't enough money in her photography yet to pay the bills on its own, she needed them both. Long nights at the diner almost always followed long days in the studio, and she was beginning to feel burnt out.
This particular Friday had been one of those long terrible days where just about everything seems to go wrong. She'd woken up with a pounding headache, but had pushed herself to get out of bed and head to work anyway. She'd left the house with messy hair and a frown, counting on the Advil she had in her bag to get her through the day. Unluckily, she discovered once she made it the studio that the bottle she normally kept the ibuprofen in was empty.
She'd managed to keep her cool in the moment, but Y/n's pain wasn't over yet. Arriving on set nearly 30 seconds after herself came Isaac, aka: her least favorite model. He always had a bone to pick with her direction and was a general nuisance to everyone in the area. It was at that moment that Y/n finally let out a sigh of frustration, the first one of the day. She'd always been good at keeping her upset-ness to herself, but she couldn't help but slip up when she realized what today's shoot was gonna be like.
It was 8:12 p.m. by the time the photoshoot was over. Isaac had indeed made everyone's job miserable today, causing them to all stay later than planned. As soon as she got the green light to leave, Y/n was jogging out of the studio, already 12 minutes late to her job at the diner. As she ran down the busy streets of the city, she kept her bag close to her side, planning to change into uniform once she arrived.
The diner was bustling when she walked in at 8:24, so Y/n silently made her way through the crowd and found herself in the bathroom, throwing on her uniform as quickly as possible. It wasn't until she got the damn thing on that she noticed it was the same one she'd worn last night. Normally she didn't mind re-wearing it twice before it was washed, (she only owned four uniforms after all) but last night a kid had spilled some ketchup on her leg, and the stain remained. Y/n cursed under her breath and fought the urge to hit the stall door separating her from any other customers in the restroom with her. Instead, she arranged her apron extra carefully, covering as much of the stain as she could, and accepted her fate.
