𝘏𝘐𝘚 𝘕𝘈𝘔𝘌 𝘐𝘚 𝘕𝘖 𝘕𝘈𝘔𝘌! | 𝙇. 𝘼𝘾𝙆𝙀𝙍𝙈𝘼𝙉𝙉

𝘖𝘕𝘌!

𝘼𝙐𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍'𝙎 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀
If you haven't read the 'Please Read' segment before this, please go back and read it! It's got some information regarding this work, and some of it's important. As I said beforehand, I wrote this as a preteen, so if you see some irregularities, I'm sorry about that! If you're willing to, respectfully point them out so I can fix them in the 'remake'!

•(F/N)•

So I had to leave my dormitory. For the third time this week. I sometimes contemplated getting an apartment of my own, but I can barely pay off my loans. If Ymir didn't make the place into a nightclub whenever she had friends over, I wouldn't be here right now.

I set down my binder and textbook on the booth table and sat down. As always, I take the perfect seat here. No tears, no spills, and no icky, nasty gum beneath the table. Isn't it great?

"(F/N), it's nice to see you," Armin, one of the waiters here, sat down on the other side of the booth right in front of me, "Ymir's partying again?"

"Nothing new," I replied, "How's life treating you?"

"Pretty dull, actually," He looks out the window before quickly turning back to me, "Hey! How about we do something fun this weekend?"

I lean my head against my hand, "What do you suggest?"

He shuffles through his pockets and pulls out a ticket, "My friend can't make it to the No Name! concert, so I was wondering if you would like to go!"

"No Name!?" I ask, confused.

His eyes widen, "You don't know who they are?" I shake my head. Once more, he pulls something out of his pockets, this time it's his phone. He types quickly before showing me a picture of three people, each with bandages around their eyes.

"Woah, didn't know you were into emo bands, Armin!" I said.

"I'm really not, it's just this band that I like in particular. Anyways, they're performing at the Stohess Arena this Saturday!" Armin says.

I squint at the picture displayed on his phone screen, "They seem interesting..." I muttered.

"So, yes or no?" He asks me.

"Yeah, sure!" I tell him.

Armin grins at me and hands me the ticket, "We'll be going with some other friends of mine, too. Hope you don't mind!"

I open my textbook, "I really don't."

"Cool, I'll see you later, (F/N)!" I wave at Armin as he leaves the cafe. Aww, there was no way I could refuse. Armin practically had a begging look in his eye when he offered me the ticket.

Right when I opened my textbook, my stomach growled loudly. I sure could go for a muffin, I thought. With a five dollar bill rolled up in my hand, I walked to the counter upfront, and searched the menu for a muffin. "Are you going to order something?" The cashier asks me out completely fucking nowhere.

"A blueberry muffin with apple juice," I ordered. He types rapidly into the register.

"That will be $4.50," He says. I hand him the five dollar bill. He mutters something about '...at least she didn't pay with pennies' or '...who even likes apple juice nowadays'. The man hands me my change back before pulling a small apple juice bottle out of the fridge and the blueberry treat out of the oven, "Have a nice day."

"Thanks," I mumbled shyly. Something told me this man either hated himself or his job, maybe both. His eyes, which were icy blue, displayed the fact he'd rather be somewhere else, not a cafe. To be honest, he looked like he belonged in a skate park wearing weed socks or in a garage band. I sat back down in my seat, in front of my textbooks, "Let's do this."

First, I started off with the easier stuff. What is the best way to deal with a patient suffering from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD)? The first question read. Unlike the other subjects, this one required realistic and careful thinking. Do one wrong thing, and everything will come crashing down.

I press my pencil against the paper, "It is best to aid patient in eliminating anxiety-causing thoughts, which may include loss of family, friends, or objects. Another way to help these patients is teaching them how certain impulsive actions could lead to life threatening situations." Eventually, I would come back to add more detail if I found any. I moved onto the next question, hoping it would be a tad easier.

The next question asked this, Name three signs of narcissism. I wrote: sense of grandiosity, social isolation, and and receptor antagonist. Wasn't that hard, was it, I thought.

...

Hours Later

...

"Oi, you! Get up!"

I grudgingly lifted my head from my arms, "W-What...?" I then realized where I was. The man from earlier stood beside my booth, menu in hand. His expression was stressed, "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

He groans, "Can't you study at your own place?!"

"I would, but I can't stand my roommate," I explained my actions, "Anyways, what time is it?"

"It's eleven p.m. We're closing, if you haven't noticed," He tells me.

"Shit! Curfew starts in thirty minutes!" I shove my books and binder into my bag, and sling it over my shoulder.

The man raises his eyebrow, "This late?"

"Well, my dormitory is only-"

"Fuck it, I'll walk you home," He interrupts me.

"Wait, you don't have to!" I suggested, not wanting to cause the man any more trouble.

"Tch, I'm going to do it anyways. Be grateful," The cashier scolds me.

"Fine..." I moan. I follow him out the door. He locks it before escorting me back to the dormitory, "It's only two blocks away, you know."

He smacks the back of my head, "Please stop complaining."

Shortly, we find ourselves in front of the campus, it's tall fences reaching for the sky. I turn to him, "Thanks for taking me here."

The man shrugs his shoulders, "Whatever," He turns around and begins to walk the path we came from.

I dig into my backpack and take out three dollar bills, "Wait!" I shout. Again, he turns around. I run to him, holding out the extra currency I had in my bag, "Have this."

"Really?" He asks. I nod and he takes them, "Thanks..."

"No problem," I run into the campus grounds, hoping my roommate would be long asleep by now.