one shots

dancing king

[author's note: we interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to provide a one shot for the one, the only jcdeci. Now usually I don't do this, but uh go ahead and break 'em off wit' a lil' one shot for shawty's birthday. The events of this one shot are based in present day, but the face claims (Jodeci) are circa 1992. Also, there will be a couple of gifs and such so enjoy 🤗]

It was Sunday. The birds were chirping. The sun was shining. The colors of nature were deep and vibrant— the leaves on trees keeping a hold on the rich colors of emerald, lime, and sage. Meanwhile, the skies were as blue as Jolly Ranchers with clouds that looked like floating, pure white sheep. The climate was warm enough to appropriately enjoy a glass of ice cold lemonade, but seeing as though it was still early in the day, the morning dew and cool breezes provided the perfect balance to the smoldering heat that had yet to present itself. It was such a beautiful day— a day full of promise and light. . . Not for Shae though.

It was raining cats and dogs outside, the usual pitter-patter of rain only sounding like splashing and rushing water against her windows. It was as if her entire house was in a car wash, by the way it looked outside. Shae was nice and comfortable in her bed, laying amongst several pillows and warm sheets. This was the day she'd been looking forward to for an entire month. No work. No worries. Just her and Netflix.

She was in the mood to rewatch the Flash series, but then again, if she was gonna' sit there and reinvest herself in the plot, she would have to take the rest of the week off in order to finish all three seasons. She didn't mind the thought at all, especially since she hated spending most of her days hanging around at the beauty supply store she worked at. She loved spending time with herself and catching up on sleep, and this weather was only setting the mood to do just what she loved.

That was until she received a call from her workplace manager. "No no no no," she softly whined once she saw the caller ID on her phone. She took a moment to let her eyes close and a deep breath slip past her lips before tapping the answer icon.

"Shae. . . I know it's your day off, but—"
"I'm on my way," she sighed deeply.
"You're a life saver. Honestly! I owe you," the coworker rushed their words before Shae ended the call.

She laid in bed for several moments, staring at the ceiling before throwing a silent fit. She fought the air and kicked her legs before sliding from the cozy confines of her comforter with a groan.

I knew I should've just worked at Chic Fil A, she thought. Working fast food wasn't her forté and all of Chic Fil A's beliefs didn't align with hers especially when it came to homophobia and matters of politics, but if working there meant she could get an occasional free meal and automatic Sunday's off, she'd at least consider suffering in silence long enough to enjoy the discounted food and get a nice lil' paycheck. She probably wouldn't, but these were just the thoughts of a woman not wanting to spend her supposed day off working.

Who the hell needed anything from the beauty supply store at 8:00 in the morning, on a Sunday anyway? She took into account all those mothers on their last barrette for their daughters as they did their hair for church this morning. She also thought about any emergency crisis that would leave edges and wigs snatched. After all, it was pouring down raining this morning. Anything could happen. Shae figured: well shit, if you've gotta' get it right and get it tight before church service then go right ahead. . . Just leave me out of it.

"They are so lucky they're paying me," she shook her head as she dragged her feet into the bathroom.

On the other side of town, Donald was awakening on the wrong side of the bed. It was pouring down with rain outside, the skies looking as gray as pencil shadings and as gloomy as funerals. Within the four walls of his bedroom, there was another storm brewing— the one in Donald's head. He was experiencing the most massive headache he's ever had. He groaned softly at the feeling of his brain throwing itself against the inner walls of his head repeatedly.