The news had struck her like an oncoming truck, a bolt of lightning; it left her breathless and uncertain as to how things could ever get worse than this. Things had already been running thin as it was, the increase in her rent throwing her into overtime. As if her full time hours hadn't been enough (which they financially hadn't) she'd been giving it more than her all just so she could pay her bills and live. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd had a break either. It was wake up, go to work all day, come home, eat, sleep, wake up, and go back to work. And the rare times she wasn't at work, she was doing freelance work as an artist.
"I'm so sorry, Michelle," her boss had told her solemnly, borderline bored even (he wasn't sorry), "but we have to let you go. There's been some budget cuts."
Budget cuts? The only budget Michelle was worried about now was her own. Because now she only had her freelance work on the side but it wouldn't be nearly enough. She had never been late on rent but there was a first for everything.
"Budget cuts?!"
Michelle couldn't help but sigh and nod sadly, the sound of her boyfriend's angered tone not at all making her feel vindicated. Should it have? She wasn't entirely sure.
"Ohh trust me, Michelle, they won't know budget cuts until they've realized what mistake they made in letting you go," her boyfriend growled, shifting in his seat at their usual spot in the local diner. His fists were clenched tightly, frustration clear in his body and angular face. "You MADE that company! They're not gonna be nearly half of what they used to be with you gone and they're gonna come crawling right back, you'll see."
Michelle wished that were true. His words just made her feel worse, believe it or not. If she had been such an asset to the advertising company, then how had they let her go so easily? How? Why send her to the proverbial chopping block when there were so many others working in the same field as her that were, by far, worse than her? Less qualified? She didn't know.
She did know, however, that her boyfriend meant well. He really did. That was just in his nature, after all. Tenth was the type of guy that had an odd name but everything else about him was pretty much perfect. Well, in her eyes, anyway. His rich brown hair was always tousled, sideburns long, features and body slender, a lot of leg, and the best smile this side of the universe. She could almost forget her whole world was falling apart beneath her just by looking at him.
If only it were that easy. Then again, nothing had been easy, not ever since her roommate and friend (read: best friend), Dawn, disappeared several months back. That was the reason why she could barely make ends meet anymore. Dawn had always helped with the rent, the bills, everything. But she was gone, not a word of her whereabouts. Another unsolved missing persons case. Michelle was really, really tired but the lease on their apartment wasn't.
"Tenth, look," Michelle sighed, her fingers brushing against the steaming mug of coffee before her. The porcelain burned for just a nanosecond before she pulled her fingertips away again. She fixed her dark eyes on him, "I appreciate what you're saying, but I'm just- not in the mood. Whether they come 'crawling back' or not doesn't matter right now."
She averted her eyes, just barely catching a glimpse of his pursed lips turning downward into a frown, that kind of look he got when he felt bad. Exactly the look he'd had when the flowers he'd ordered online came in the mail flattened because of careless postal workers or like the time when he accidentally got coconut icing on her birthday cake last year. Here he was trying to make her feel better and she just burst that bubble right away. But she couldn't feel bad about it.
"Hey," Tenth began again, voice much softer and quieter this time. Like a feather comforter, his words were wrapping around her, his hand reaching out to pull hers away from the cup of caffeine. "We're gonna get through this, alright? C'mon, Michelle, look at me."
White teeth pulled at red lips as she finally allowed her gaze to focus more intently on him, his expression hinting at hopeful encouragement. Yet again, he was trying. The corners of his lips were smiling, expressive eyebrows relaxed, and caramel hues invitingly warm. His hair looked even better than usual today, which compounded the fact that he was certainly a sight for sore eyes. And certainly, her eyes were sore and weary.
Tenth leaned forward slightly, his smile growing just by increments, "World's not gonna end today. Not by a long shot."
There was something comforting about that, wasn't there? The world wasn't going to end today. Sure, maybe tomorrow, or the next day, or the day's day after that. But not today. No. Not now. Not in this little diner at the edge of Chicago on a surprisingly warm afternoon.
The world wasn't going to end, perhaps ever, in this little diner that had been in their usual routine for nearing on a year now. It was cozy, small, generally bustling with a surprising amount of activity for how out of the way it was. Lucille's Diner, it was called. It always brought the question of 'who is and/or was Lucille?', but there was never much of an answer to be found. Not that Michelle really cared too much; their incredible coffee was usually just good enough to not ask questions like that.
She smiled; a small twitch of her lips that grew as she squeezed his hand, her other fingers moving to brush back a dark strand of hair behind her ear, "Yeah. I know you're right, but-"
"Of course I'm right," he scoffed, as if it were obvious, the little shit.
Michelle snorted, shaking her head, "But, that doesn't stop me from feeling like shit. Like what am I gonna do now? The world's not gonna end, sure, but the bills aren't gonna stop." She paused, a mirthless and sarcastic huff escaping her lips, "Actually I'm more than a hundred percent sure the world could be ending and I'd still have to pay my rent. And I mean like the gates of hell opening on my front steps and my landlord would be shoving the eviction notice under my door."
That seemed to get a genuine laugh out of Tenth, although Michelle wasn't entirely sure that's what she was going for. At least one of them found a little amusement in the situation (okay that wasn't fair, she knew it was just the imagery of an eviction notice during the apocalypse and not her actual predicament).
"Michelle, please," her boyfriend pleaded, sounding incredulous almost. "That's not gonna happen. It's gonna be fine. In fact, it's gonna be incredibly fine because I'll lend you some money at the end of this month."
She could feel her eyes widening in slight surprise, her head immediately beginning to shake, "No! No, absolutely not, you are not gonna do that."
"I'm not not going to do it," he smirked, eyebrows quirking up slightly.
Oh, that little shit. Her lips twisted into something akin to a pout as she shook her head, firm and absolute, "You're not giving me money, okay? I'm gonna sort this out on my own."
Silence followed before Tenth was sighing, "Oh come on, I'm not just gonna sit back and watch this happen to you, not when I can do something to help."
"I don't want to be in debt to you," Michelle insisted, perhaps a little sharply, but it was more to the point. She had always been stubborn about doing things on her own, especially when it involved money. Maybe it was to prove a point to her family, maybe it was to just prove a point to herself that she could do it. Whatever it was, it was stubbornness no matter the angle.
Tenth looked and sounded all the more exasperated, "I want to do this for you, no debts, no you owe me, no nothing, just me wanting to help. Is that so bad?"
"Just wanted to check in: how is everything? Do either of you need anything?"
Both Michelle and Tenth found their attentions turning to their side, left and right respectively, to find a man about their age, dressed appropriately like a Lucille employee. Although with his black shirt and red tie, he seemed a bit more distinguished than the rest of the crew, and with that, unfamiliar to the couple. Which was an odd thing; you'd think with how much they came here, they would've recognized a man with such pale skin and such an angular jaw.
Michelle found her voice, "Oh, uh, no I think we're good."
"Another green tea for me, actually," Tenth amended, motioning slightly to his empty glass.
The man gave a pleasant smile, perhaps a little too pleasant, before he was nodding, "Of course, I'll get right on that."
And just as suddenly as he came, he was off again, leaving Michelle and Tenth to match gazes with a similar question lingering between them. But was it important enough of a question to bring up? Perhaps it was neither here nor there whether this guy was new or not. Maybe in all the time they'd been coming to Lucille's, he was always in the back.
Then again, there were more important topics than a new employee face to a regular diner-goer. And silently, it seemed they both decided on that.
"My offer still stands, you know that," Tenth began again, brown eyes filled with honesty and sincerity. "You know Dawn wouldn't want to see you struggling like this."
Michelle's lips pursed hard, the mention of Dawn turning her insides into an acidic and sickening mush. What would Dawn say right now if she were here, beside Michelle in their usual Lucille seats?
'Don't worry, Michelle, that's why we both pay the rent, remember? I'll take care of everything until you can get back on your feet.'
But then, wouldn't Michelle be refusing even that just as she was refusing her own boyfriend? There was no doubt she would.
A pitcher filled with green tea was moving between them as the same man from before was refilling Tenth's glass with the liquid. It took Michelle only a moment to notice the nametag on his black button up shirt; LUCILLE'S DINER and underneath the red logo: RAMSAY. And just beneath that read 'Assistant Manager'.
"More green tea, there you are," he spoke, voice as overly pleasant as his smile. "Need anything else?"
His eyes were moving over to Michelle, his smile and blue eyes somehow conflicting with one another. Like there was something behind the eyes that the smile hid. And as his gaze continued to linger on Michelle, she felt something very, very off. But again, it wasn't an important topic. Perhaps it was very, very unimportant. So she just smiled back, giving a shake of her head.
"No, we're good now I think," she affirmed. "Thank you."
Ramsay gave the smallest tilt of his body forward, his head following suit in a quick nod, "I'll be here if you need anything more, just let me know."
Yet again, his eyes watched her intently, from her hair to her eyes to her lips, and then he was walking off yet again, seemingly attending to another table several seats down. Michelle swallowed a bit roughly. Just what had that been about? And was it so unimportant a topic that she felt something off about it? Or was today just wrong in every aspect?
It wasn't a subject that needed lingering on. She had much bigger problems to worry about. Like her boyfriend's incessant pleading to help her.
He was giving her that look, a look that told her he was determined and wasn't going to take no for an answer. Well hopefully he would take an indirect no, at the very least.
Michelle sighed, reaching for her coffee to take a sip of his steaming substance. It burned her lips and tongue, keeping her grounded as she pulled it away. "Just let me think about it," she settled, watching him decisively. "I want to try to sort it out myself but I'll think about your offer too, yeah?"
Tenth looked deflated almost, but he quickly brushed it away, "Always gotta be so stubborn about doing it your way."
She couldn't help but smile somewhat, knowing that she had won this battle. But did she win the war? That was yet to be seen (spoiler: she was going to win this war too, no matter what it took). She breathed a small laugh through her nose as she adjusted herself in the seat.
"I can't help it," she admitted with a gentle shrug of her shoulders.
Tenth pointed her way, "At least let me make you dinner and we watch some Netflix back at my place tonight. And I definitely won't take a no on that, Michelle Morris."
Michelle was biting at her lower lip yet again as her smile grew, perhaps the biggest smile she'd had in this entire horrible day, "Okay, fine. Deal."
Just out of the corner of her eye, there she caught a glimpse of that Ramsay character again, his eyes on her once more. It threatened to cause her smile to falter, but he quickly looked away, leaving her with a sense of uncertainty and, quite frankly, a chill. But once more, it was unimportant.