Scott
You casually walked down the fruit and vegetable aisle.Today was the day you dared to go grocery shopping because: 1) the cupboards, fridge and freezer were empty and 2) you didn't have three cousins to keep a watchful eye on all the time.
(O/C/n) was at school, (Y/C/n) was at a friend's house for a play date, and (B/C/n) had a very happy Granny looking after them. Thank the heavens for her surprise visit...
After seeking out the best-looking produce you could find and putting it in the basket, you read through the list once again. Everything was ticked off except for one thing.
"I have to remember to get (Y/C/n) their favorite cereal..."
Not wanting to let your cousin down, you hurry to the cereal aisle on the other side of the stoor to get some (Favorite/cereal). It wasn't that hard to find, but it did prove to be a struggle to get it.
The boxes were all splayed out on the top shelf. You tried standing on your toes, but even then you couldn't reach it. Sighing, you look around for a worker to help you.
Nothing.
"Well, so much for helping the customers."
But you would not give up and let the cereal win! With the utmost determination you reach back up. Inch by inch you get closer to reaching the box. "Almost...got it!" Your fingertips graze its smooth surface...and push it further back.
"C'mon!" you huff.
"Ma'am, may I help you?"
You turn around to face the person standing behind you. "Yes! I-I mean... Yes please. Thank yo-"
You stop mid-thanks when noticing who it was. With mouth slightly open, you gawk at the phone-headed man. You couldn't help but stare at him, not in a bad way though- he just seemed so peculiar. He was very tall and lean. And then there was the dial phone...
"Oh, uhm...It's just a mask..." he tries to explain the abnormality to get you to calm down a bit and break your gaze.You could tell that he was getting self-conscious.
"Right! I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. It's just that, well, my cousins and I saw you the other day and I didn't expect to actually encounter you..." You smile sheepishly at the man and hold out your hand. "I'm (Y/n)."
He takes your hand and shakes it, self-consciousness forgotten. "Scott."
He then simply reaches up, takes one of the boxes and places it with the rest of your groceries. "Do you need anything else on the top shelf?" he asks sincerely.
"No. Thank you for helping me, Scott."
"Any time, (Y/n)."
Jeremy
The whole shop was buzzing. People really did come from all around to get their signed copies of their favorite author's brand new book (as your friend expected).
This meant that you and (Friend/name) were both extremely busy, be it working at the register or handing out some snacks and hot drinks to guests as they waited around.
Right now you were doing the latter. You held trays of biscuits and small pastries as you walked around, offering people some. Though you enjoyed having something to do, it was becoming tedious to keep on smiling and your arms were getting tired.
Heading back to get another tray, you spot (Friend/name) who was beckoning you towards her. "(Y/n), can you take over here while I go get some more tea for our guests?"
"Sure." You head behind the counter.
"Thanks! I'll be back in a while. Just help the people pay for their books." She runs to the backroom, leaving you with the eager book-lovers.
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Things started dialing down a bit as the signing came to an end. Some people went home, but a few still lingered to chat with the author.
When (Friend/name) came back with teapot in hand, you pretty much begged her to stay where you were. She happily agreed and skipped off to serve earl grey.
'Ting!'
The store's bell rings out, signaling yet another customer's arrival. This customer in particular was, unlike most others, familiar to you.
The same young man from the previous day walked towards you. "H-hello. I-I'm here to p-pick up a book I... o-o-ordered." He seems to stop when realising who he was talking to. The sight of you made him stutter more than usual.
"Right, what's your name?" you ask kindly.
"J-Jeremy. J-Jeremy F-F-Fitzgerald." The poor guy was blushing a deep red.
You type in his name and a book title along with his details pop up on screen. "Oh! (F/book)! This is a really good one." You bend down and get the book from the box underneath the counter before putting it in a bag for him. "Here you go Jeremy."
Shaking madly, he reaches out and takes the bag. "T-t-thank y-you m-miss..."
"(Y/n)."
"(Y-Y/n)... That's a pretty name." Immediately he recoils as the words leave his mouth.
Your face's colour starts to mach his. "T-thank you. I really like your name too."
He smiles shyly and nods. "G-goodbye (Y/n)."
"Goodbye Jeremy Fitzgerald."
Fritz
Today was your day off. Or at least it was supposed to be.
You spent your whole morning in bed, just relaxing and catching up on some reading. With a steaming cup of coffee/tea in hand, your attentive eyes read over the words on the page/screen. It was then that all was interrupted by your phone buzzing from its place on your bedside table.
Putting down your reading material, you pick up your phone and read the message sent from your boss (and good friend):
{(Y/n), Dave couldn't come in today due to family drama. Can you come cook in his place for the day? I'll pay you for overtime.}
You are quick to reply, not particularly minding helping those who have always been so kind to you.
{I'm on my way. And you better not pay me extra ya hear! ;-) }
Swiftly you climb out of bed and get ready for work.
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"You're a lifesaver (Y/N)," your boss opens the door for you.
"It's alright. I wasn't doing anything special today anyway," you smile as you enter the kitchen. The ovens and stoves were already heated up and ready to go. Quickly you get to work getting the pans and pots ready as the diner is finally opened.
A few people came in, all ordering breakfast. Within minutes they had a plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of them. More and more people started to enter through the doors. You work your magic, and soon they were all occupied with the food before them. After two hours or so, things started to slow down.
As you created plates of food for a small group of hungry patrons, someone sat down on one of the many stools along the counter. You turn to them, smiling, "Hello, can I take your order?"
Sudden realisation strikes as you notice that it was the man with the orange curls and glasses.
He was smiling at you, his cheeks dusted with freckles and eyes bright. "Yes please. I would like the usual."
"The usual. Right...What exactly is your usual?" Your cheeks tint pink in slight embarrassment for asking such a question.
The man chuckles, "I'm just messing with you (Y/n). I would like some eggs and sausage please."
"How do you know my name?" you inquire as you turn around to start making his order.
"I know everyone who works here. The one day I asked your boss who made the amazing food and he told me it was none other than (Y/n) (L/n)," he explains as he taps his fingers to the counter.
Minutes later you place the plate in front of him. "Here you go sir."
"Call me Fritz." He offers you a hand, which you gladly shake.
Vincent
So far so good.
You were coping well as a security guard at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaria. There were one or two instances with some misbehaving children getting too close to the stage or wandering where they shouldn't, but nothing too bad happened.
The other employees all showed you the ropes (some ropes weirder than others). They made sure you looked the part of a Fazbear employee by demonstrating how to act and how to dress. The security uniform you were given may not be the best looking thing, but at least it was pretty comfortable.
The pizzeria was not too busy currently due to it being a weekday, but you were sure that things would become more hectic during the late afternoon when the children would come from school.
Another guard came in to take the afternoon shift, working with you until your shift ends around 5:30p.m. He was pretty helpful, yet seemed to constantly be on edge. Especially when you got close to, or walked past, the stage.
Hours of hard work ticked by and before you knew it, it was time for your second and final break before your third part of the day shift starts.
As you made your way into the staff room, you were greeted by another of your fellow guards- the same you saw the day before.
"Hello Dove~" The man dressed in purple grinned happily as you entered.
"Uh...Hello," you wave to him, trying not to show your awkwardness at being called 'Dove'.
He then overconfidently stands up and takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "I'm Vincent. And may I say, you are truly a rare jem in a place like this."
You let out an awkward half-laugh, not at all expecting such an introduction. "O-Oh. Thank...you?" You clear your throat, "I'm (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N)."
It was then that something strange seemed to make its way across the man's face. His smile faltered for the briefest of moments, then returned- bigger than ever before.
"Well then. It's a pleasure..." His grip on your hand, which he had yet to release, tightened ever so slightly as he leaned closer. "...(Y/N) (L/N)."
Then he let go without another glance.
You watched as he disappeared out the door around the corner.
Mike
It was a slow day.
First you went over to Declan's to help your friend move in to his new, much bigger, apartment. After a morning of lifting boxes and moving couches, and unpacking the boxes, you were finally finished. You offered to take Declan to go eat somewhere in order to celebrate, but he declined, wanting to just chill in his new place for a bit. You left him be and headed home.
Sitting in the thick of traffic, you tapped your fingers to the steering wheel to the song playing over the radio. 'Beep!'s and 'Toot!'s could be heard all around as people became impatient.
Slowly you moved forward, finally reaching the turnoff. As you moved off the highway, you sighed in relief. Dragging a hand down your face, you make the turn...
'Screeee!'
Brakes are slammed as something bumps into you. Eyes wide, you look behind you to find that another car was turning off the road- its left light shattered. You do the same and come to a stop just before the pavement.
The other person jumped out of their car before you could. They went to inspect their front bumper, hands on their head as they cursed. You got out of your vehicle and also scanned over the damage.
"WHAT THE F*CK WAS THAT!?"
You turn to face the angry man who you immediately recognised as the guy from the bank.
"YOU WERE BRAKING WHEN YOU DIDN'T NEED TO!" he seethed.
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" You fold your arms. "If anything, I think you were going too fast."
"Oh I was-! You know what! Fine! Just don't expect me to pay for this sh*t!" he growls.
"Oh? Why not? Too proud to admit you were the one to do the wrong?" you fumed.
"No! I just don't have the money!" he retorted- his defense more degrading than anything else.
"Well, that's what insurance is for!" You throw your hands into the air, mockery evident in your voice and gesture.
"Too bad I don't have insurance!" He stomps back to his car and plops down in the seat with his head in his hands.
You suddenly felt sorry for this guy. Exhaling, you walk over to him. "What's your name?"
"What's it to you?" His voice did not hold the bite he intended.
"I'm going to pay for your car's damage."
He looked up in disbelief, "Y-You... There's no way I'm letting a woman like you do that."
"Too bad, because this woman is. What's your name?" you inquire again.
The man glared, then took up an old receipt and started writing on it with a pen he had in his pocket. When done scribbling, he got up and handed it to you.
"Mike. Mike Schmidt."
He got back into his car and rode off, leaving you with his number untidily written on the crumbled piece of paper.