"Binary Code" (GASA4 Cashier x Reader Sequel) [COMPLETED]

Chapter 5.

And Cashier kept running until his legs practically gave out on him. As he came to a stop outside of a diner, he felt the bones in his legs splinter and his calves ache. He turned to look at the big sign above the diner that said, 'Diner', of course. He then looked through the windows to see an empty booth which he would then walk in and take in the span of a few minutes. He felt relief after a little, not walking on his legs anymore as he sprawled them out under the table and sunk into the booth. He waited a moment before a lady with an apron around her waist and a little sliver of paper walked up to him to take his order to which Cashier told the lady he wanted a coffee.

In a matter of minutes the lady had returned with a piping hot cup of coffee for the man with the sullen face who thank the lady before she walked off. He looked back out the window, staring at the outside and admired the view, having little shops and valleys light up before his very eyes. Come to think of it, Cashier had never seen this part of the city ever before. Had it always been here? Cashier shrugged and smiled meekly, happy he finally got away from Dummy, from his store, from his problems, and- you. He frowned upon remembering you. Right, and his addiction. And what Dummy had said. Really, the more he thought about it, Dummy wasn't exactly a bad guy for talking with Cashier.

Cashier sighed. Dummy was right. He just wasn't sugar coating the truth. And turning away from the fact his legs ached, his whole body seemed to ache, his arms all shredded up and his head with bruises from him banging everything on metal in his little friendzy. He hadn't had an episode like that in- god he couldn't even remember. That was a part of him he didn't like as he had no control over. That's why he hated his addiction so much. Because he wasn't in control of it either. He felt powerless against it as he knew he had to comes to term with his problem instead of continuing to run away.

He took a small sip of his now lukewarm coffee and set it back down carefully, continuing to think of you back home. He then thought about his addiction and you just trying to help him. And what Dummy had said. It felt like those words played over in his mind time and time again yet nothing changed. He sighed and shrugged.

"Whatever." He mouthed to himself as he then grabbed his cup and took a long swig from it, waking him up and giving him a sort of adrenaline rush. It reminded him of his smokes, but at this point, what didn't? An addict only has one thing on their mind at all times. Their addiction. After he was done, he walked out of the diner and into the night, down the streets, the light poles being his only source of light as all the shops had now closed as the night got darker. He found a piece of asphalt in the middle of the road and kicked it, watching it land a fair amount of feet away from him. He continued to do this until he made his way to a park. He looked around and spotted a bench for him to sit on and continue resting his feet. Where would he got from here? Not back home, he simply couldn't. For his sake, and of course for yours.

He couldn't go back to you because he felt a great deal of shame. Shame from the fact he couldn't stop, not even for you, and not even for his own dignity. What small man couldn't stop their addiction for the love of their life. He wanted to go back but- he just couldn't. Not now, not ever. He wanted to but he couldn't. He couldn't bare to face you, the look in your eyes after shutting you away and you also coming to realize he wasn't the man you thought he was. Someone who could take on anything. And most importantly, someone who wasn't an addict. But that's what he was. He knew there was no more denying it. He had to face these problems of his head on. But not today. He would quit tomorrow and to make sure, he marked the date on his visor as a remembrance for the future.

~~

He would quit tomorrow.

That's what Cashier promised himself five years ago today. He opened the door and sat down at the table after setting his box of smokes down on the counter and taking one, he lit it and huffed out the smoke, then taking off his visor and beginning to relax. He noticed the date he had written on his hat five years ago.

"That's- today? 5 years ago since-" He thought and thought about it all once more. You, Dummy, even Player who he hadn't seen in forever. Well, technically he hadn't seen any of you in forever. The years went by so fast and now it seemed everyone had their own life. Cashier had found a place in the city and you, well you continued to live alone in your home near the old convenience store that hadn't had the lights on in years. Dust collected in it as the windows became rather foggy from the debris. Dummy, continued to sit in his void, getting bored as nothing ever happened. Player packed all his thing and ventured off on his own, living away from his father and even the man in the sewers was assured dead at this point. Everything had moved on, even if Cashier wasn't ready. As much as it pained him to leave everything behind he figured it was for the best. At least that was the conclusion he came up with in his mind.

But was it really for the better? Cashier put out his smoke on the ash tray that sat in the middle of the table. He sighed and checked his calendar, noting that he was right and it was in fact five years on the dot since he promised himself he'd quit smoking. And, surprisingly, he had come close a few times during this period. Unfortunately, though, as quick as he thought he was getting better, he just relapsed and went back to his old habits. By now, he had practically given up and found a new way to support his addiction by picking up a job as a gas station employee in the city. Just like his old job, only much less breaks and he couldn't just do whatever he pleased. It felt restricting and Cashier was miserable, but, he did crave that high he got when a rush of nicotine hit his system. That's really what kept him going all these years. That and you.

As much as he wanted to admit he was over you and you were nothing but a thing of the past, he found he was thinking of you during his shifts a lot. He remember your face, your lovely, name, and- well gee, everything about you was just, so perfect. So hypnotizing. He missed you dearly and as he continued to think about you, he shed a tear, coming to terms with himself as he realized that he probably lost you for good by this point. How he couldn't help himself for two minutes and just talk things out with you and now you were probably off living God knows where with someone else. Someone who was in control of themselves and someone who certainly didn't have emotional problems. Someone who didn't contemplate their existence all the time and was this close to going off the deep end. Someone who basically wasn't so much- work.

The tears turned into muffled sobs as he covered his face, yearning for you. Oh, how he missed you. How he missed your daily checkups on him, all your reassurance that everything was going to be okay, and all the support you gave to him during his time of need. He missed you so fucking much. He couldn't deny it. He walked to his bathroom to wash his face and calm himself down and looked in the mirror to which he saw a sad lonely man who needed love. Something he hasn't had in so long. How he felt so cold and so gone he couldn't even recognize the eyes staring back at him. And all the scars and even the burn mark from Dummy. He sighed. He knew this wasn't him. He walked back out after splashing his face with some cold water and composing himself and noticed the smokes on the counter. He grabbed them and then walked to his trash can, chucking them in there and running to his room to grab his belongings and running out of the house doing something he should've done five years ago to the day.

He needed to talk to you.