Timelines - Cashier x Reader (getasnackat4am)

Still Up?

Notes: I forgot to mention that Player and (Y/N) are the same person. I was reading another Cashier fic and realized I forgot to clarify this.

Also, every one to two chapters will essentially be one ending -- when you wake up, it's another 'play through'. 

(Y/N) jolted awake, having woken up from a particularly bad dream. They grumbled and rubbed their temples -- some stupid dream about talking fruits? What they do remember is that they all had annoying, and grating, voices. 

They thought it was particularly odd, as they were never one for remembering their dreams. Often, (Y/N) deemed it unimportant, but this one felt like -- felt like --

What? They lost their train of thought, like it was sucked away. They hummed, probably nothing important.

Glancing at the clock -- 4:02:45 -- they thought it was best to have a snack. Maybe cook something? Just to clear their mind.

Treading down the hallway, into the living room, and finally the kitchen. They began rummaging for ingredients. (Y/N) could find fruits, soda, and a bag of chips, but they didn't think it would be too helpful. A recipe was also found on the countertop, and (Y/N) thought it would probably be fulfilling to follow. It was easy anyways, crack an egg, cook it, and have it with a drink -- preferably orange juice. 

They gathered money, and opened the door. 

______

The street was a little barren. (Y/N) always thought it was weird they lived on a street right next to a convenience store, or that they were the sole house there, and that the only way out had blockades and cones that spelt out 'NO'.

A little bench was up ahead, and street lights that occasionally flickered. Way too many lights for a place that only has one house.

Walking over asphalt, they pushed open the doors, a bell signifying their arrival.

A figure was hunched over the cash register, head tucked into his elbows, 

"Hi, welcome to the Generic Convenience Store, open 24/7.. " he mumbled, going into a drowsy state. "If you wanna buy something, place it on here," patting the scale next to the register, "And nudge me. Make sure you actually wanna buy it -- okay?" 

(Y/N) nodded.

The Cashier gave a quick half-hearted smile, and immediately slammed his head back into his crossed arms. Actually, he wasn't even standing. The register was short enough for him to kneel.

(Y/N) browsed the aisles, looking for orange juice and eggs. The convenience store was obviously rundown, with a fridge of ice cream that was, quote-unquote, too cold to sell. Racks were scattered on the ground, and in total there were only 2 shelves. Plus, 2 mini-fridges that weren't even filled, having half of their contents spilled onto the ground. Grimacing, they plucked their needed items and turned to the Cashier. Placing down the items, (Y/N) shook his shoulders, as he seemed pretty knocked out. Looking to the side, a timer read '320' until break. It was counting down seconds, (Y/N) realized, after the counter went down after a beat. 

"Hmm..?" his voice was raspy -- morning voice?  -- with a slightly whiny tone to it.

(Y/N) pressed a bottle of orange juice against his cheek. 

"Ah.. okay. Place the item on the scale, and confirm you're sure you want it." he seemed very cautious.

(Y/N) tilted their head, as if questioning the confirmation part.

The Cashier pointed towards a glowing floating ball, "Someone bought that -- it was 9999, by the way, -- and complained. Got it returned. Was not happy."

(Y/N) was satisfied with the answer, and placed down the items, making sure to confirm they wanted them. 

"That'll be 55. We don't take card." his face was still half hidden by his arm. When passed the money, he gave a wry smile and thanked (Y/N). 

They waved goodbye, and the Cashier responded with a hand flop -- presumably to act as a wave -- before he collapsed onto the register again.

____________

(Y/N) hummed to themself, turning the dial carefully, before placing a skillet down and cracking open the egg. Hopefully, the pan was non-stick. Turning away, they placed down the orange juice, and decided to have a crack at one of the books their house had. It did seem like an interesting book -- "In the world, Sociopaths & Psychopaths: Among Us" -- flipping the pages, and eventually they sniffed out a smoky odour. 

They forgot to keep an eye on the eggs. It was already too late to salvage, as the fire was already spreading to other surfaces. The fire alarm started sounding, and (Y/N) did not want to be there when their dad woke up. 

They ran out the door, and when taking a look back at the building on fire, they decided to seek shelter in the convenience store. 

They pulled open the door, taut with exhaustion. 

"Hi, welcome to the Gen.. Hey, I've seen you before." he looked up, "Why do you looked so panicked? It looks like your house is burning down or something." The Cashier laughs, a gentle, bell like noise.

(Y/N) did not see the humour in the situation. Nervously fumbling with their fingers, they ducked their head and cocked their thumb to point behind them. 

"Wait.. What's that sound?" 

(Y/N) nodded.

"You -- you what? You set your house on fire.. ?!" The Cashier seemed a little aghast, "Is it a little rude to say I expected better?" 

He groaned, and covered his face with his hands. Upon close examination, his fingers looked surprisingly clean for a Cashier. Not to be a creep, but the Cashier had nice hands.

(Y/N) scratched the back of their neck sheepishly, raising their other hand as if to say, 'what can you do about it?'.

They attempted to start a conversation, pointing at his missing nametag. 

"What, this?" he pulled at his green apron -- was his uniform meant to be entirely green, or was the visor simply a fashion choice? -- "Oh, just call me Cashier. There's no reason for names, really, when you're a teenager working for minimum wages. No one comes here anyways, so I don't think it's relevant." his eyes crinkled at the sides, smiling as if sharing a hidden joke.

[ENDING: Fire (are you seriously that bad at cooking ??)]