Break Me (Phan)

V

Daniel Howell
Monday 19th October

I peered my head around the back door of the shop, knocking on the firewood as I did so, "David?" I called out.

"Daniel." he sighed, "Your uniform shirt is on my desk. If you shut the door you can quickly slip it on in there and leave your t-shirt on the side." I nodded, wearing a genuine smile on my face. I have no clue what in the world could have forced him to choose me over the other guy he interviewed, but he did, and I was here. I was away from the streets, from my home, from my father...

God, it was nice to be able to change without Steven wanting to look me over. I actually had guaranteed privacy in this office, even if for a short moment. I had a clean shirt that wasn't second-hand, nor was it damaged. I held my nose against the fabric, breathing in the plastic, factory smell and I loved it.

I hung my t-shirt over the back of a chair that was pushed against the wall. I left the office, standing before David again. He gave me a slight smile, which was a muscle more than I expected to receive.

The mid-thirties man patted me on the shoulder, pulling me to sit down on the chairs I'd previously waited for my interview on, "You look great." he reassured, "Now, the store opens in thirty minutes. I'll give you a run-through of how the till works and where all the books are, then for the rest of the day I'll be shifting around the store: I'll either be sorting out stock, in my office, or on the other till. It's just you and me today, I thought it would be best for your first day." he stood up, leading me into the main store as he guided me around the way things worked. He sighed contently, "Got it?"

I nodded, "Thank you-" I began, seeing if he'd cut me off, "Thanks for this. I know you don't want me here, but thank you." my words caused a look of pity to spread across his face.

He nodded respectfully, "Be a good worker and don't prove this to be a mistake."

***
Wednesday 21st October

I'd been working the job for three days. David had me in Saturday until Thursday, with another worker named Chris in from Monday through to Friday. The boss himself was in on a Sunday to Friday basis, but apparently that was interchangeable. I met Chris yesterday, his introduction was snapping me a glare then not sharing another word to me before the afternoon, where he asked me to take the till while he went to piss. I'm sure he'd be friendly to anyone who wasn't me.

Today was Wednesday, so I was working a shift from eleven until eight with Chris there the entire time, although he was dealing with stock in the back so I'd be alone for the majority of it, apart from any customers. There'd been a dead period for about an hour or so, therefore I'd already had time to wipe down the sides and freshen the place up a bit, so I took to sitting on a stall behind the counter and reading a few of the "damaged" books. It was a box full of unsellable items, whether they'd been damaged during delivery or by a browser.

"David?" I'd asked the day before.

"Yeah?" he responded, packing his bag full of pieces of paper.

"The 'damaged' book pile, what happens to them?"

"I normally charity shop them, or give them to fates for prizes or whatnot. Whatever I can do to get rid of them, really. Why?"

"You don't think...I could have a few, do you?" I warily requested, feeling shrunken in comparison to my boss.

He chuckled, giving an empathetic smile, "Help yourself, Howell. Just don't go damaging books to take them. In fact, you can take three a week, any more than that you can borrow, but just return to the pile. Got me?" I nodded, the smile spreading to my cheeks again.

So, here I was sitting on the stool reading through my fifth book of my working week. I decided I was going to use my three-book allowance over the weekend. I'd already grown fond of the place. It was a modern bookshop, but the dark-wooden shelves and countertop gave it a rustic appeal. The floorboards were a much lighter shade of wood, almost matching what made the doors. Apart from the glass door to the entrance, that was.

The moment I thought that, my attention was drawn to my right as a customer entered the shop. I settled the book down on the stall beneath me as I stood up. He looked at me and smiled, my face returning a wonky version of his grin as my insecurity showed through. I still didn't feel familiar dealing with people in a polite manner.

I furrowed my brows at him, recognising his face from the interview, wondering if he had anything to do with my new job. I swallowed my spit into my throat, "What are you doing here?" I interrogated, the tone slightly more stern than I meant it to.

He scoffed, "Buying a book, what do you think I'm doing?" he rested his elbows on the counter as I approached him. I was taken aback by his confidence, as that certainly wasn't something I'd expect from a guy in a Crash Bandicoot tee.

"Sorry." I sulked, "That's...I didn't..."

He chuckled, "It's alright."

"W-what book are you looking for, or are you here to browse?" I politely questioned.

He hummed, seeming to be making the decision on the spot, "Right." he remembered, "Do you have Catching Fire and The Maze Runner?" I felt dissappointed he actually had books in mind he wanted to request, thinking there could have been a chance he was there for me.

"Right. Yes, we do. Do you want me to get them off the shelves for you?" I offered.

"That would be perfect, thanks." he smiled.

I gulped, trying to offer small talk, "Are...are you a big reader?"

"I pick up a few every now and again. What about you?"

"Not really," I sniggered, "Ironic since I'm working in a bookstore. I say that, as well, but now that I've got the chance to read I've flown through five books in the last four days." I cocked my head, showing off slightly. God, I need to stop being such an arrogant bastard.

"Oh, is that right?" he hummed, watching me select the books he asked for off of the shelves.

I tightened my face, eyeing him down, "Is that a challenge?" before scanning the books through the register. I twitched my nose, building up the confidence to seek the answer for a question which had been buzzing through my mind, "Did you...I'm sorry this is not the place or time to ask this...but, did you...have anything to do with my job?" my fingers grazed over the short hairs on the back of my head.

He groaned, looking straight at me, "Would it make me seem like a dick if I was honest?"

"No," I snickered, "It would make you hot for the fact you'd go out your way for me like that."

"Are you flirting with me?" he looked down, tapping his fingers on the countertop.

I gulped, fearing I'd crossed a line, "Not at all." I sternly spoke, "You're a customer."

"So if I weren't a customer...?"

"Are you flirting with me?" I raised my eyes, passing the books to him in a bag, "Fifteen pounds and ninety-eight pence." he nodded, placing his card into the reader as he exchanged his money over.

"See you around, Daniel." he spoke, opening the shop door.

"Hey?" I spoke out.

"Yeah?" he half-heartedly grinned.

"Do me a favour? Don't associate yourself with me. You're new in town, I don't want to fuck you up like that." and with that, he left the shop.

~