Your new job.

CH. 3; The Tour.

        My shift was shit. Damien took every opportunity he had to make me look bad, and him look good. I'm not entirely even sure why he was doing that. It wasn't a competition. None of this could be considered one. Every time I took a tray out, he almost made it his personal goal to mess with me. I dropped so many trays full of dirty dishes, it was embarrassing; I had never had this problem before Damien arrived. 
        Near the end of the day, I was cleaning a few tables of garbage and dishes left over from customers when Henry nervously approached me, clearing his throat to get my attention. I turned, a tray full of trash and dishes in hand.
        "Ah... [Y.N], I just wanted to let you know that William would like to speak with you after you're finished here, no rush though!" he spoke, then backed away, definitely worried I was going to drop the tray. I wasn't. I smiled at Mr. Emily, giving him a short nod.
        "I'll make sure to head to his office after I'm done, don't worry. I'll be fine," I responded, then we both went our separate ways. I went to the kitchen, throwing the garbage into the bin and shyly placing the dishes in the dishwashing section of the kitchen before swiftly heading out.

I made my way to Mr. Afton's  office, making sure to knock gently on the door a few times. He told me to come in, albeit pretty muffled due to the sound-proofing of the door. I entered, nervously standing in front of him. Afton looked up from what he was doing, pushing it to the side of his desk and intertwining his fingers, resting them in the space his work once was. He leaned forward.
        "How was Damian's tour, [Y.N]? I heard afterwards you had some problem with..." he paused, trying to think of the correct word I assumed, "balancing? Did something happen during the tour?"
        "Oh, it went fine," I lied through a smile, brushing it off, "I just had some trouble later on because I piled up too much stuff on the trays. Rookie mistake, I know, and I apologise for that, sir."
        Afton nodded in response, bringing what he was working on in front of him again, scribbling something down. I couldn't read exactly what it was, but I could definitely say his handwriting was pretty. It was definitely the kind you'd have to practise for years before being able to write that smoothly and quickly.
        "I had a bit of a talk with Nyra today, as well as another employee — you haven't met him yet — and they both spoke briefly about Damian making you somewhat of a target for harassment. Damien and I have had prior discussions about this sort of thing, and he also has a bit of a record." Mr. Afton dropped that last part quite casually. Did he seriously hire someone with a criminal record?
        "No, sir. I've had no problem with him today, we just had a bit of an issue with running into each other. He hasn't spoken to me since this morning," I lied again, knowing that if I actually spoke up about it, tomorrow would be even worse. People like that definitely don't appreciate being told on.
        Mr. Afton nodded, writing more of what I assumed were his notes about the conversation, or something related.
        "Well, I promise if he does make a habit of harassing you as those employees stated, it'll be put to a stop. I do not tolerate that sort of behaviour in my restaurant." He put the papers into what looked like a fairly large file, then put the file back into his filing cabinet behind him. He turned back around, once again placing his laced fingers gently against the desk.
        "You're free to leave now, [Y.N]. That was all I had to discuss. Feel free to come at the regular time tomorrow." He smiled, giving a short nod. I said a quick goodbye and went to the staff room to collect my things, changing out of my uniform. I heard footsteps from behind me, I assumed another coworker. I turned around, my face falling as my eyes landed on Damien. He glared down at me, pushing me into the locker as he began to speak,
        "Had fun with Afton, then? You made sure to keep your mouth shut, right? I wouldn't want anything like that damaging your reputation."
        I visibly gulped, my heart pounding against my chest. I nodded quickly in reply, staring at the floor. My eyes landed on his boots. Steel-toed, big, heavy boots. Not for work, that was for sure.
        "Not fun. Just... a meeting. A check-up, I guess. I didn't say anything about you. Can you leave me alone now...?" I responded, my eyes nervously peeking back up to meet his. Damien grinned.
         "Yeah, sure. Until tomorrow. Night, dumbass." He harshly patted my shoulder, then turned around to leave, his heavy boots thudding against the linoleum. As soon as he disappeared around the corner, I let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding in. Ouch.

I went to visit Oliver's place after I left Freddy's. I couldn't shake the anxiety that squeezed my lungs. I hadn't felt like this in a long time. It was a bit hard to find his house. I hadn't been there since we were kids, and I barely remembered the way. I made it eventually, and slowly walked up his driveway, glancing at the half-dead plants wilting in the pots lining the pavement. Kind of sad.
        I hadn't really told him I was coming. I probably should have done that, but I didn't. My hand hovered over the cold, white wooden door, debating if I should really bother him like this.
         Well, I wasn't really bothering him. He did always say that if I needed him, I could  come over. So I took his word for it and finally knocked on the door, the warmth leaving my knuckles practically immediately. I shivered. I didn't realize it got this cold at night.
         Movement came from inside, and my ears twitched. The door slowly opened to a very sleepy looking Oliver. His hazel eyes were squinting, and his chapped lips were pressed into a small frown. This quickly changed to a surprised look when he recognized me.
        "[Y.N]...? What are you doing here, man? It's pretty late," he half-mumbled, scratching the back of his head. Fuck, I didn't really think of how to explain this without alarm bells going off in Oliver's half-empty brain.
        "Uh... I had a weird day at work, and I didn't really wanna go home...? I mean, I can if you're busy," I replied, my hands instinctively starting to fidget. Oliver shrugged, opening the door a little wider and shuffling aside. The warmth of his house spread over me, and my cheeks felt really warm.
         "Nah, it's chill. Stop standin' there like that, dummy. Come inside."
        So I did that. He shut the door behind me, and we talked for the rest of the night. I ended up sleeping on his couch, I think. It's all a bit fuzzy.