Strawberry Panic {TomTord}

Drowning in pink

The cafe was small but homey, filled with gentle lights and pastel colours. Adorably, the walls were lovingly decorated with a delicate, soft yellow, paired with of other matching hues- making the building itself look like it was made of vanilla frosting and sprinkles. Booths lined the sides, most of them with doors, in which he could only assume was for privacy- the floor was a retro black and white tile, sparkly clean. There seemed to be an endless amount of plushies around the place, ranging from cute little animals to near sentient fast food items with large anime eyes.

A sudden loud, cheerful clapping cleared through his observations as he turned to look at the small women that were slowly making his way before him. She was brightly coloured (much like the cafe itself), in a short pale blue dress, with a large lilac bow on the centre of her chest.

Smiling brightly, she let out an excited, "Hello Mister! Have you played with us before?"

Tom stood, dumbfounded for a couple of seconds, slightly uncomfortable under her happy, pleased expression. An eerie silence hovered over them before he licked his lips and croaked, "No- no, I'm here about the sign..?"

He watched as her eyes widened, taking in the information with a hint of a shocked expression before it rapidly turned into embarrassment.

"Yes, yes! Of course, I'm so so sorry, Miss! Please excuse me-" She reddened, and fidgeted with her long delicate fingers before she surged forward to grab him by the wrist.

"Uh-" He was dragged forward, heels squeaking harshly against the tile, as he was lead into a doorway, into the back of the cafe. They reached a brown wooden door at the end of the hallway, in which the presumed waitresses rapped on it lightly.

"Ms Sinclair? We have an applicant!" She called, before turning to Tom, patting him on the shoulder and leaving from where they had just entered.

Gulping, Tom turned the doorknob and entered the cramped office, feeling the most unprofessional he had ever felt as he met Ms Sinclair's empty, deadpan expression. He shivered despite the warmth of the room and slowly sank down on the seat that was placed in front of her desk.

Ms Sinclair was a small woman, thin, with short, curly blond hair. A dark purple pair of glasses was perched delicately on the edge of her nose, in which she used to peer over at him, a cream coloured turtleneck high upon her throat. Regardless of the casual, near shabby appearance of her sense of dress, she still gave off a sense of foreboding judgement.

It made him nervous.

"Listen, Ms Sinclair- I'm- Im Thomas, and I really, really need a job. I've tried everything- I can't- I don't-" He couldn't believe he was stuttering this much, it really wasn't like him at all- but after the week that he had, the seemingly endless word vomit almost had a mind of its own as it freely spilled from his lips.

For the few minutes that he sat there, fidgeting, crying and most embarrassing of all- begging, Ms Sinclair watched him idly, face blank, fingernails tapping against the desk monotonously. After a while, she spoke, "Thomas."

He stopped immediately, already knowing that he had fucked up royally, and fully expecting to be kicked out. It was just as well, he supposed, he didn't know what he had been thinking. 

"I'm willingly prepared to bring you on board as another server- but you have to understand that every entertainer here is female-"

"I'll do it! I can wear dresses- uh-"Tom suddenly exploded, heart in his throat as he internally panicked. Why had he said that? Was he honestly entertaining the idea of-

Edd's disappointed face and Tord's smirking expression flashed across his mind; the restricting feeling of failure that had driven him to a near nervous breakdown and the pang that he had felt in his chest at the thought of driving the few good things that he had in his life away- forever.

Yes, he absolutely was entertaining the thought.

To her credit, she didn't look shocked or annoyed at his interruption. Instead, she had just met his gaze, unblinkingly, "You'll have to commit to the role- hair, makeup, voice. Everything has to be perfect."

She counted off the categories on her fingers, staring at him firmly for any trace of refusal. Tom sucked in a deep breath, and nodded in agreement, hands shaking underneath the desk.

Finally, a small quick smirk twisted at the edge of her lips, "Then we are agreed. You'll arrive first thing on Sunday- yes, we are open on Sundays- and Cherri will show you the ropes."

Tom near jumped out of his seat, anxiety and excitement mixing uneasily in his stomach as he grabbed one of her hands to shake.

"Thank you- thank you so much! I will not let you down!" Almost as if a switch had been flipped, the dark bubbling thoughts that had been festering on the back regions of his brain had been cleared away with an airy, giddy feeling that tingled pleasantly in his chest.

He grinned brightly, managing to push down the need to cheer at least until he was outside of the office, and went to open the door, jimmying the handle.

"Oh, and Thomas?"

"Yeah?"

"You'll need to provide your own bra."

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A/N- I've been writing these chapters one after the other, and now I've started to talk about myself in the third person. I need friends.