AN: Unfortunately, I let Everybody's Villain sort of die, mostly because I wasn't enjoying the writing style or the plot line that I'd made for it. I took a good, long break trying to give it a second chance, but really, it wasn't working. I'm going to keep a lot of the same themes/ideas, but I'm rewriting the entire piece. I'm going to try and get back to the more observatory style that you all seemed to like in Not the Hero.
CHAPTER ZERO: BEING THE BAD GUY
-THREE DAYS POST BIG DAMN SCREW UP-
Not sure what's going on anymore.
Been on the road for a few days. Never thought it'd be this hard to run away. In the movies they always show some kid finding a hot dog cart to steal from and a nice abandoned industrial building to hole up in until everything blows over. Three days post what she was considering the end of just fucking everything, and she was already thinking about...Well, I need to find a hot dog cart.
What a load of shit.
Didn't really think it through very well. Had that meal card all set up and ready. Could have packed a lunch box while the boys worked on killing-
Bad road, that. Bad road. Dark road. Don't come back from that road.
Fell asleep on a park bench the other day. An old lady left me a sack lunch, but I've got to figure this shit out. Get your act together kid. Can't go through life with your head up your ass.
Thanks, Coach.
Mar glared across the street at a little mom and pop coffee shop that she'd been watching for the past two days. She'd seen the little old man come and go, and it was so slow now that...
Gonna steal from a little old man, Mar? Shut up.
Real classy, Zee-zee. And you gave me shit. God, just shut up.
Don't do this. You're better than this. Yeah, I used to be.
Can't believe you'd do something so stupid. Like you have room to talk, you murdering-
Do it. Want to see you do it.
Mar pushed up off of the bench, watching as the last of the lunch crowd disappeared down the street. The little door bell rang as she tugged on the door, and inside, a wall of coffee and baked goods assailed her nose. There was no chipper or eager barista asking for her order. There was no little old man, either, which was all the better.
She eyed the old fashioned cash register that sat up front on a wooden counter. It was flat black, with a large lever that she'd seen in the movies. She stood at the counter a long moment, staring at the lever that would change everything. A lever that would -
Jesus H. Christ! Mar nearly ran out the door at the clatter and groan that came from back in the kitchen.
Just take it and go.
Yeah, because she's going to listen to anything-
"Shut up!" She screamed, shaking her head and looking quickly between the register and the kitchen. Oh, son of a...fine. She jumped the counter and pushed her way through the double doors into the kitchen.
"Hello?" she called, taking in the spilled tray of muffins strewn across the floor. A little ways off, the old man lay, trying to push himself up using his cane.
"Can you..." He trailed off, gesturing toward the muffins. She ignored him, and gripped his shoulder, heaving him to his feet. He was a tall man, old and bent with age, but as he straightened up to crack his back, she could see what he might have been, once upon a time. He smiled down at her in that fatherly way she'd seen her own dad do time and time again. "Not as easy to get the trays from the oven with a cane," he said, shaking his head.
And this is the old guy you were going to steal from. She ignored the voice in her head, the voice that sounded remarkably like-bad road.
"You shouldn't be trying to lift things with one arm while using a cane," she said, stooping down to gather the muffins he'd dropped and toss them into the bin.
"No one here to do it but me," he said. "Unless you're looking for a job?" he asked with a half-hearted laugh.
Yahtzee. Zee's head snapped up.
"Yes, I am," she said, standing up with the tray in her hands. "I don't know much about coffee shops-"
"There's not much to know about this coffee shop. This isn't Starbucks," he said, eyeing her up and down. "If you were to work here, there'd be no-"
"I'm in," she said quickly. "I mean...if you were serious about a job." She fidgeted under his gaze. He seemed to see through everything.
"Come on," he said. "I'm Arnold. I was about to have lunch, and then we can get these other trays into the case out front."
It's gonna get better, Zee-zee.
God, just shut up.