FFACE: The Story of Edward Stile

Chapter Two - The Interview

About a week later, Ed was starting to pinch his pennies, if you will. He hung onto what scraps he could, trying harder than ever on commission work, finishing about two a day, getting him about twenty dollars richer per piece. At best, this would give less pay than a minimum-wage job working five days a week, and only when he worked seven. As you could imagine, he was pretty desperate when he got a call from Fazclaire's telling him to come down to the building for a proper interview. Upon this knowledge, he saved the artwork he was working on, shut down, and half-ran to the establishment, forgetting any sort of outer layer in the process, and trying to get the topmost button of a polo in before he got there.

Ed slowed as he neared the building, trying to steady his breaths. He wouldn't want whoever was interviewing him to have to listen to his panting, after all. He made his way into the Eatery section of the place, and was immediately jumped by DeAnne, who he quickly explained to that he couldn't talk at the moment, as he needed to get to the interview. She lets him be, slumping a tad, watching as he walks briskly down the hall where he'd been once before.

Ed now sat across from Hen in the man's office, eyes shifting as Hen pulled out a handful of pages. After rifling through them for a moment, he spoke.

"Let's get introductions out of the way, shall we? My name is Harold Graves," he said, extending a hand.

"Edward Stile," came Ed's reply, shaking hands. He was now wondering why DeAnne had called this man Hen, but decided not to ask quite yet.

"So, you passed the initial test, but before I hire you, I need to make sure I can trust you. I'd say be honest, but even if you aren't, I'll know your real intentions soon enough. Understand?" stated Harold, in an almost threatening manner.

"Yes sir," replied Ed, suddenly a slight bit nervous.

"Good. Now, would you be so kind as to tell me of previous employment?" Harold passive- aggressively ordered.

"Just retail for like four years- there's a store over on the other side of town, I believe it's trying to start a big, corporate chain. Wasn't the best, at least for me. I knew a few guys who really liked it there, but they were always people who liked interacting with others. I myself am not much of a people person, so that's most probably part of it. That also ties into why I want the night watch- I won't have to deal with so many 'Karens,' as the kids call them. I knew I liked the graveyard shift a lot more than the others there, so... Um, sorry, am I starting to rant?" Ed questioned, not wanting to mess this up for himself. He hadn't done this in four years, after all. Harold remained silent for a moment, glancing around the various papers he held.

"And why did you want this job, besides being alone for most of your shift?" Harold inquired further.

"Well, it was the only job in the area that I was cut out for with a high-school diploma- er, the only one with decent pay, anyway. I don't exactly fancy working two jobs, y'know?" Edward elaborated.

"Not for the girls?" Harold pressed, eyebrow raised in a questioning glare.

"Eh? Are you talking about that DeAnne chick? 'Cause if not, then I have no idea what you're on about. 'Sides, I highly doubt she'd be here during my shift anyway, so why would-" Ed started, not understanding what was being asked.

"No, the anime-tronics- Felicity, Bonnibel, Heather, Fexa?" The man asked, genuinely surprised.

"The anime-what now?" Said Ed, positively perplexed.

"Did you know anything about this place before you applied? I mean, they're used as most of our branding, and appear in every advertisement we make. How did you not know about them?" Harold half-shouted, completely bewildered at the luck and stupidity this man would have had to have to know nothing about the place he was going to be working at.

"I- No, I stumbled across this place with a vague description and gestures of direction from my landlord, since I missed rent because of recent unemployment. I just kinda hoped the pay would be good since it was the night watch, y'know?" Ed admitted, realizing how idiotic he must sound.

Well, either he's a really good actor, or I can lighten up on the questions, then. If he didn't even know the girls existed, he couldn't want the night watch to "have fun" with them, Harold thought, massaging his temples. Ed had no idea what was going on at this point.

"How do you feel about working from midnight to eight in the morning?" Harold decided to ask, attempting to regain his composure.

"I'm fine with that- just need a day or two to scramble my sleep schedule," Ed replied, still confused.

"Right, right- I'll need you to fill this out and sign at the bottom," Harold informed, passing another form over the desk. Ed skimmed it, entering his name, age, phone number and any emergency contact information he had (he put his landlord as the E.C.) Then he got near the bottom, where the contract was waiting for him.

By signing on the line below, we are released from responsibility for death or injury during your shift. If death or injury should occur, emergency contacts will be notified within forty-eight (48) hours, or at the next available opportunity. By signing on the line below, you acknowledge that the safety of the establishment is your responsibility from midnight to eight hundred hours (12:00 AM to 8:00 AM).

"Do I at least get health insurance?" Ed asked, pausing.

"Yes," came Harold's reply. And with that, Ed signed the form.

-

Back home, Ed looked over the uniform he'd been given. It consisted of a dark vest with the word 'Security' embroidered on the back in large, white letters. The word was also on the hat, just above the brim. There was also a metal badge, which had 'Nightguard' engraved on it.

He would start on Monday, and it was currently Saturday night. Luckily, he still had a handful of melatonin left in the most recent bottle. He'd bought a small one for when the retail didn't tire him out enough to get enough sleep a few months back. He'd used the stuff for over half a decade at this point, so he knew how much would be needed to put him out for a night- which wasn't much. So he popped a tablet or two, and laid down, calculating what eight or nine hours from then would be- and according to those calculations, he would most likely awake in the early morning, before the sun came up. Then he would also have to go to bed early the next day, so that he would be rested for his shift that night.

Sunday morning, Jack asked him if he got the job, as he was starting to consider evicting him- rent was nearly three weeks late at this point. Ed said that he did, telling him he started that night- or the next morning, if you prefer. At six hundred a week, it would be much more than what he had at the retail place, which was a measly ten dollars an hour. Therefore, he explained that it would be most probable that Ed had at least some of the money at the end of the week, and the rest in time for next month's rent. With this, Jack decided to let up a little for now, but would come back, knocking on the door, at the end of the week.

And so, Ed returned to work on the various commissioned art pieces he hadn't had time to get to, leaving only a handful unfinished before he retired for the night, setting his alarm for ten o' clock.