Working With Humans (New)

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"Okay, so do you understand?" America asked.

"Okay, so my name is Zachery and you are Eric," I answered.

"Correct,"

"What is the point in using human names if we look like this?" I asked, motioning at my face.

"Humans seem to have some kind of filter over their eyes, so we look like humans to them," He explained.

"How does Dad let you work with humans?"

"He doesn't know I have this job." America rolled his eyes.

"How does he not know?"

"Why do you think I take the night shift?"

"Oh."

America had been driving to his work while he talked about his coworkers. I had never really talked to an actual human before, but apparently they are fragile and die easily. They have a very short life-span but lived similar lives to us. Interesting. I was going to take the anthropology (The study of humans) class this year, but I couldn't do art and I have my priorities.

"So, why do you even work at McDonald's? It's not like getting a job is going to be hard for us since we are all just going to end up in the office like Mum and Dad," I sighed.

"New Zealand, my little brother. We growing countries, young and almost independent. But do you know what growing countries need?"

"Love, care, support," I started listing.

"Money!"

"Of course," I rolled my eyes.

"What's the point in working the same office job with the same pay when you can work harder and collaborate with our humans to make more money and advance faster than the other countries!" America explained with such enthusiasm.

"You work a night shift at McDonald's." I pointed out.

"We all have to start somewhere. Where do you think I got the money for this car?" He laughed.

"I guess that makes sense." I sighed.

"We're here!" America announced. I suddenly felt nervous as we pulled into the employees' car park. We got out of the car and headed into the back door. I could feel my anxiety taking over.

"Hey guys!" America greeted him as he walked past the row of fryers.

"Yo, Eric!" I heard a lady say in almost the exact accent as America... Oh no... They were Americans.

"Who's the kid?" The lady asked.

"Sarah, this is my little brother, Zachary," America said, motioning his hands to almost show me off. I felt embarrassed.

"I don't mean to be rude or anything, but he doesn't look like your brother, I mean, his skin is a little darker than yours," A man pointed out. I had no clue what they were seeing, but I thought America and I looked related with the same colour scheme and the stars.

"Hey, don't be rude to him because of his skin colour," Another lady said. She was not American, she had a different kind of sass about her.

"It's okay, I was adopted anyway," I said nervously. I should have known not to speak because as soon as they heard my accent the Americans went crazy.

"Woah! Cool accent! Are you Australian?" Sarah asked. I felt slightly offended by that statement.

"No! I'm New Zealand!" I shouted angrily. I could see America signal that I said the wrong thing.

"You're New Zealand? So you are telling me that you are an entire country?" The guy joked.

"Uh... no?" I responded.

"The kid is a New Zealander," The non-American commented.

"Isn't New Zealand a part of Australia?" Sarah asked.

"No," I said through gritted teeth.

"Okay, maybe we should talk about something else, why don't I introduce Zach to everyone," America said.

"That is Mark, that is Sarah and that is-" America started pointing at the three and telling their names.

"I can tell him my own name. I'm Elise, it's good to see another non-American for once," Elise smiled. She seemed kind.

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"Argentina," She shrugged. As she said that, I thought about Argentina and how I broke his nose. I suddenly felt a little uncomfortable.

"Nice place," I said awkwardly.

"Ayo! We got another customer," Mark announced. I did not understand what I was supposed to do, so I just stood near the fryers, watching Sarah fry the chips. America- I mean, Eric was out front to take the order. I heard a lady order trees soft serve cones with chips.

"Ha, this girl probably got dumped by her boyfriend," Elise laughed.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"she is a frequent customer who would always come with her boyfriend. Now, if she was picking up something for her boyfriend, she would have ordered two soft serves or if she was just hungry, she would have gotten a single soft serve. But she ordered three which means she plans on eating away her feelings which also explains her lack of a boyfriend," Elise explained.

"Damn," I commented.

"Sorry ma'am, the soft serve machine is broken," I heard America say.

The night dragged on, but it wasn't too bad. It turns out the soft serve machine wasn't broken and the others just say that to annoy customers. It also saved a lot of cleaning as well, apparently. I ended up get on quite well with the humans.

They seemed to know a lot about me though because America apparently likes to brag about his brothers. America even came up with human names for Canada and Australia. Canada was Cain and Australia was Austin. I suddenly felt a buzz in my pocket.

I checked my phone to see who it was.

♡My Potato Queen♡: Hey, are you awake? I can't sleep.

Yeah, what's up?✩:My Kiwi King✩

♡My Potato Queen♡: Am I a good girlfriend? I feel like I am a terrible girlfriend...

"Who are you talking too?" Mark asked over my shoulder.

"My girlfriend," I answered quickly.

"You call her Potato queen?" He laughed.

"Umm, yeah," I answered. I turned back to my phone to think about what to saw.

"What's her name?"

"Belar... I mean, Bela, just Bela."

"Do you have any photos of her?" Mark asked with a sly grin, obviously implying something. I flicked to my camera roll and showed mark the picture of Bela hanging upside down on the monkey bars.

"Damn, she's got some nice boobs," Mark commented.

"Hey! Don't say that about her!" I shouted.

"I'm joking, but have you got any... 'photos' of her?"

"Okay, Mark, leave my brother along, I don't want him to turn out like Cain." America stepped in. Cain referring to Canada.

As I thought about it for some reason the thought that Canada has 'photos' in his phone makes me feel very uncomfortable, but what more could you really expect from Canada. I got to admit, I look up to him, not only because he is taller than me, but because he gets away with a bunch of illegal crap and never gets in trouble. Not only that, but Dad still thinks that Canada and Ukraine are only friends.

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