The graveyard shift is probably the most pointless job in the entire world. Particularly for grocery stores. The store closed at midnight, but did that mean they could go home? Oh, no, no it didn't. Doors were locked, and so it was time to do re-stocking, re-arranging, all that fun stuff. And it was just the three of them. Two kids wading their way through college, and him. It was long, and boring, and Alex desperately wished he could just go home and get a couple hours of sleep before he had to wake up again at seven.

Nine to five, and nine to five. In the same store. Because Heller fucking hated him. And because he needed the money and Heller knew that too. Fucking Heller. Ugh. Alex could sit there and explain to the chip aisle all the reasons why he hated his manager and how one day his body was gonna end up in the frozen foods section, right there on the shelf between Lean Cuisine and Weight Watchers. Which, wouldn't be the first time that happened…

What was he even doing here? Alex asked himself this question a lot, especially here neatly putting Lays bags into rows and rows of that godawful yellow color. Six years of schooling, getting a diploma, his masters, and then boom, debt out the wazoo, a life he can barely afford to live. Everything just kinda sucked, and he worked double shifts at the supermarket with a managed from hell. What in the fuck was he even doing-

POP

Alex jumped back in surprise as potato chips suddenly rained on his shoes. He popped another bag. The second one this week. He wasn't getting payed enough to be piss at life during work. He threw the chip bag down on the ground and stomped off to get a broom.

x-X-X-x

It's five-forty by the time he tromps up the steps to this apartment. The great thing about this time of the morning is that there's no traffic and he can cross roads without worrying about cars. This town has a million blind spots, and it's so easy to nearly get run over by some asshole on his cellphone who's speeding through the neighborhood. Yet, between eight P.M and seven A.M, everybody was off the road and didn't dare get back on it.

They lived in the suburbs, for fuck's sake.

Alex only lived down the road from the store. Which was one of the main roads in town that connect to two other main roads in town. But anywhere Alex wanted to go, he could just get to. Everything was in relative walking distance. Anything farther out, he biked to. Anything farther farther, well…He couldn't afford it anyway.

His apartment was modest, to say the least. Well, maybe not really modest, just a box with a bed and kitchenette, and one little door to the bathroom. Home sweet home. Alex doesn't bother with eating or showering, just throws off his work uniform and flops onto bed. He's dead tired, and the moment his eyes close, he's out like a light.

Seven A.M came here in the form of a blaring alarm clock. Alex punched his clock off the nightstand,

x-X-X-x

Going to work in the morning reminds Alex of all the reasons why he actually likes the graveyard shift. At three A.M, there are no customers to deal with, or really any other employees. There is no Heller to deal with. There is no jam pack of customers swarming in to get their morning dose of overpriced shit at the Starbuck's counter. And there is no Elizabeth Greene to sexually harass him.

He was setting out the cases of muffins and assorted pies in the bakery section when he suddenly felt someone smack his ass.

"Ohh All, you been working out?" came Greene's giggle infested voice. He didn't even turn around, just stared mortified at blueberry muffins as Greene bounced away and some little old ladies laughed at him from where they were watching the whole thing happen. All the reasons why he sometimes actually did, like the graveyard shift.

x-X-X-x

There is cat that lives around his neighborhood (or as neighborly as a munch of giant rectangles can get). Everyone knows that cat. Everyone calls him Zeus. He is nobody's cat. Nobody outright owns him. And thus, he is the neighborhood cat. No one is actually allowed to own cats or dogs unless they want their rent to shoot through the roof. But there is Zeus, and he is no one's cat, yet at the same time, he is everyone's.

He sleeps on doorsteps or potted plants, on stairs and banisters, at the little playground in the back corner, or on top of cars. He is seen on the rooftops of the buildings, or on top of the garages. Zeus is everywhere, there's nothing that cat can't get to. Everyone helps take care of him. People will leave out bowls of food for him, and the old ladies have boxes and such of blankets left out for him to sleep in (not that Alex has ever actually seen the cat in them).

Whenever someone finds a bruised and battered Zeus on their doorstep, they immediately rush him to one of the many vet clinics around town, one of them being right near where Alex works. People will just happily drop hundreds of dollars on this cat they don't even own.

Zeus likes to sleep on the stairs to his apartment the most. Alex's neighbor's claim it's because they're so alike. Dark haired, blue eyes, generally introverted. Alex is never sure if he should take that as a compliment or not. Zeus, for as loved as he is, isn't really one for affection. He hates kids, and will hiss and spit at the, whenever they come near him. Alex doesn't blame him, he hates kids just as much.

For being the neighborhood cat, Zeus is hardly neighborly. He's nice to you long enough to feed him or get him patched up after being by a car, but after that, you're in his way and he lets you know. There are no other cats around their whole complex because Zeus has probably chased them all off. He's incredibly territorial, and can't even stand people who walk their dogs past the place, even if the dog is across the street.

And it's Alex's stairs and door the damn furball spends the most time out. Alex has not once, ever fed him, or given him anything, nor has taken him to the vet. The most Alex has even done, is sat on top of the garages with him as they picked at some shit in a box Alex nuked in the microwave. It's the nicest he ever gets with Zeus.

But that black ball of fuzz is still waiting for him when Alex arrives home from his day shift. Zeus wraps himself around his ankles as he unlocks the door. But when the door is open, Zeus takes off like a rocket and Alex doesn't see him again for the rest of the day.

x-X-X-x

Alex doesn't own much. At least, not much that actually costs a lot of money to have. He has a smartphone and a laptop. That's it. Those are his only means of entertainment and communication. He does not have a TV, he wouldn't want to pay for cable anyway. He doesn't have a car, because the insurance would be unbearable. He owns a bike, however, but he mainly saves it for work because work is a mile away.

He doesn't really see the point in anything more than that. His moments spent at home were too precious to waste. He mainly slept, or ate, or showered between shifts. Alex didn't have time to be concerned about weekly TV shows, or paying for gas, or anything like that. It was a boring, uneventful life that left little room for much else. He just, existed, and went to work. And that was good enough for him.

Except for one particular night when he got off from work, and he checked his messages on his phone while waiting for a stoplight to change. Sudden plans for Sunday were made.

'Hey, wanna meet up for lunch? -Karen'

So I don't have a solid explanation for this one but…It's gonna be styled like The Dumb Roommate Story was, as you can see. It's mostly inspired (like most of my writing these days) by music by bands...

Today's fic is brought to you by "The Right To Go Insane" by Megadeth, which is the main inspiration behind…everything (even yes, the title cause why the hell not). Or at least the base storyline for this fic. Yeah.

Updates whenever I please.