"Absolutely ridiculous." Allura banged her head on the wall. Not hard enough to give her an injury or concussion, but enough to definitely hurt. She looks down at her phone. We regret to inform you that your job application has been denied. "That was my last chance!" She whined, squeezing her eyes tightly.

She needed a job. Ever since her father's restaurant had been shut down, their family had been losing money. Now that she had gotten a culinary master's degree, she needed to get a job to pay back all those student loans, bills, and her parents and uncle. She had applied to McDonald's as a last resort. Well...an almost last resort. She wasn't going to even consider the other one an option.

"You didn't get the job, did you?" Lance asked. Allura shook her head.

"No," she grumbled. "I didn't." She stands up slowly, wiping her face. "Lance, I'm entirely screwed. I'll be paying off loans for years!" She hugs herself, pacing the room. Lance stands there with his hands on his hips.

"You've got a culinary degree, 'Lura," he said, wiping his nose in thought. He bites his lip. "Can't you start your own business? Or just try working at Vrepit Savor?"

She froze. "No! No, not there. You couldn't force me to apply there." She crossed her arms and glares at him. Her father's rival, the man who caused her father to lose the restaurant, ran and owned the chain. She would have to be beyond desperate to even consider it.

"Allura, it pays well. Just to start off. Trust me." He sets a hand on her shoulder. "Even though Zarkon Empire runs it, it doesn't mean you'll be giving in to some sort of rivalry. Knowing you," he says, whispering praise, "you could make it to manager in a week and be out of there in a month."

She smiled at her friend. "Thanks, Lance. But I'll try with Wendy's one more time." She stepped away from his touch. She needed to think a little harder. Like, to start off with, how much longer she could live with Coran. It had been ten months! Or maybe do small jobs, like candle-making with Hunk's girlfriend, Shay. (No small task, mind you.)

"Up to you," he says. That it was. She sits down in a chair. They were in an empty classroom in Arus Community College. Coran, her uncle, taught there, but it was not enough for her degree. She was still welcome to study there, though.

"Starting my own business would cost more money than it's worth," she tells him. He shrugs, but she can tell it worries him, too. Being in this position...she wasn't sure how to deal with it.

"Why not just try applying? See what your chances are? You can always quit."

"I hate it when you're right," she groaned. "I...I'll grab a form." Attagirl. She didn't want to. But if she could get a job, even from Zarkon, she needed it.

"See? It'll be worth it." Lance smiled his winning smile. One she usually trusted. But, oddly, she didn't trust it now.

"Lance is going to die," she grumbled as she walked in. The door made a chime. The tile in the lobby was speckled white, the tables a bright red plastic. The walls were deep maroon, indigo, and pink. A hideous combination, but with the low lighting, it seemed to work.

Waitresses and waiters rolled around, two girls whistling at each other. A girl with brown skin and dyed fluffy hair winks at a brunette with a long, high ponytail. The nametags read Ezor and Zethrid.

A girl with a bob haircut rolls her eyes, taking a tray into the kitchen. Allura, being herself, assumed that naturally, the girls were close. But maybe they just didn't like each other.

It seemed like a typical sports bar, to be fair. Bustling with drinking, laughing, chatter. Loud pop music played overhead, the kind everyone knew the words to but complained when they heard it come on. Servers wore roller skates and anyone with hair long enough had a high ponytail.

Girls wore short black skirts with pink underline. Boys had long black slacks with blue aprons. The tops were all light colored — most girls wore polo shirts and the boys wore dress shirts. She swallows. Fashionable.

She still couldn't believe that she was doing this. Even standing in the damn lobby made her sweat with fear. She shifted on the balls of her feet. "This has to be the dumbest, most desperate thing I've ever done," she mumbled. She played with her hair nervously, making sure her earrings were in. She had eventually given in to Lance's ridiculous suggestion, and she was having a hard time believing she had made it passed the front door.

Why had she thought this idea was okay? Everyone here was more attractive, more agile, more friendly and confident. To her horror, even more servers rolled out in sync. They were all so...they just knew how to work as one.

"Miss? Are you all right?" a young man's voice comes behind her. Her thoughts are immediately broken, as are her worries. She jumped, letting out a small cry. She whipped around, almost dumb-founded by the male standing next to her.

He was gorgeous. No other way to put it. He had styled his hair in a perfect way that showed off his face. His square jaw was set with obvious concern, his slightly baggy white dress shirt a fantastic fit. His eyes were a soft, warm color. Blue? Indigo? Oh, goodness. She swallowed thickly before trying to answer.

"Y-yes," she stammered. His white hair falls into his face. Just a single piece. He was lovely, yes, but there was something about him that annoyed her. "I'm fine." She brushed off her pink dress, trying not to stare at his black and red skates. The hottest waiter she had ever seen.

"Are you sure? Would you like me to seat you?" he asked. She didn't move at first, unsure of what to say. She bites her lip and shakes her head.

"No, thank you. You see," she starts out, "I would like to apply for a job."

It seemed like everything went...quiet. Yep, she thinks. This was a bad idea.