And here is chapter two!
Wow, i though the first chaper was long, this is 16 word pages. Wow, but the next one is a bit shorter, so i guess it balances it out?
I don't own anything as usual, and be sure to
Read, Review and Enjoy!
"A department store?" her mother wailed, arms flailing in the air hysterically. Her father was fuming, and Courtney's mind was racing. How could she be so naive to trust Chris McLean? When she's running for office she cannot have records of her being a-the very word made her skin crawl- check out chick.
"You know this all wouldn't have happened if you just came and worked for me." Her father said, his eyes desperate. Courtney stood from her chair.
"Daddy, please don't go into that again! I'm already in a big enough mess without you reminding me that I'm working for your rival!" she screeched, on the verge of tears.
Courtney's father was the CEO of Lopez Advertising-Chris' competing business. It was common knowledge to everyone in Toronto that Chris McLean and Javier Lopez were at each other's throats. If Javier did something, Chris would've done the same thing within a couple of weeks. Courtney thought that working behind enemy lines would give her an insight into how Chris' business ticked, and she could steal the business from under Chris' feet for her father. In fact she had it all planned out! First she would act like a model intern, then at the stroke of midnight, she would break in and-
"We're taking legal action!" her mother insisted, interrupting her daughter's train of thought. Her father was nodding vigorously as she dashed for the phone. Suddenly Courtney's brain exploded with an epiphany. Legal action...
"Stop!" she wailed, freezing her parents in their spots. Courtney's mum rounded on her daughter.
"Courtney, I will not have you working in front of a check out for two whole years!" she said through gritted teeth. Courtney was completely calm.
"Don't worry. I won't be working there for too long." She said mysteriously, walking back to her room to concoct her next major plan. It was so simple that she wondered why she hadn't thought of it sooner.
Just grit your teeth, and slowly rise to the top. Then when Chris least expects it, bombard him with a lawsuit, and win ownership of his company! Courtney smiled deviously. Her genius sometimes surprised herself.
Tangled in a web of sheets, tossing and turning involuntarily, perhaps she thought it would rid her mind of the horrible images that flashed through her mind.
There she was, perched under a tree, sketching intently. She had no idea what she was creating, but the process of which put her completely at ease. Burning with anticipation, she let her hand glide across the paper and discover just what she was drawing. It was immensely satisfying. Her picture was starting to take shape. Shading where necessary, she smiled.
Suddenly the sunlight flowing onto her was blocked by a towering shadow. Puzzled she raised her eyes, only to meet a pair of emerald ones. They were glinted with evil glee, as Trent's hand swiped down upon her drawing, scribbling across her creation with a black marker; her artwork destroyed. Gwen could feel her heart breaking. She stared straight into Trent's devilish glare, tears springing to the corners of her eyes. Trent cackled before disappearing in a wisp of ebony smoke.
The scene dissolved, whirring colours dizzying her sleeping brain. In the midst of the swirl, she heard Duncan's disembodied voice echo through her ears.
"I don't trust anyone who's friends with that pretty boy!" his words cut through Gwen, whose own voice replied:
"Stop it Duncan! Trent's really sweet. He loves me." She heard herself wailing these words, but uttering them filled her with the most unpleasant feeling. She cursed her conscience for haunting her with the memories she had hoped were forgotten. She remembered Duncan huffing and adding.
"Does he?"
The scene in front of her materialized, the sight of which made Gwen's sleeping figure spasm in bed. She was at a party. The party. She was dressed in a very low cut ebony dress, complete with a corset with a zip up the back. She hung onto Trent's arm like a parasite. It was disgusting just how hard she had fallen for him. He took her face in his hand, staring into her eyes with a smile.
"You're so beautiful." He gushed over the deafening music, smiling. Gwen melted under Trent's intoxicating stare. She giggled.
"You know I'll always love you, Gwen." Trent added huskily, his breath tickling Gwen's exposed neck. She shivered with ecstasy at the sensation. She knew it. She was in love. She couldn't help but swoon in the middle of the mindless dancing teenagers.
"Close your eyes." He whispered, his nose brushing up against hers. Assuming he was going to kiss her, she willingly obliged, imagining Trent's soft lips against her own. Smiling slightly, Trent slowly moved behind Gwen, holding her by the waist.
It all happened so quickly. Within the span of about two seconds, a loud zipping noise jolted Gwen out of her infatuation. Her chest suddenly felt a breeze of fresh air, and the sound of her peers' jubilant laughter echoed in her ears. Her eyes snapped open to find her entire chest exposed for everyone to see. She wrapped her arms over her chest quickly, tears streaming down her face.
She glanced to Trent, and the sight smashed her heart into a million pieces. There he was, holding Gwen's corset with both hands, laughing hysterically. In fact, his laughter seemed like the loudest in Gwen's ears. She couldn't handle it. She fell to her knees, buried by everyone's amplified laughter. She blinked furiously, trying to rid her eyes of tears. She saw Trent throw her corset next to her and walk away.
Gwen quickly retrieved her corset and affixed to herself, shaking. After the hilarity of the situation died down everyone resumed dancing. Gwen sat there alone, knees drawn up to her chest, alabaster cheeks stained with ebony makeup. It gave her face a spooky gray hue.
Her venerable figure started to turn to black mist, the terrifying scene of the party disintegrating. There was more twisting of colour and light, various voices talking over each other. The scenes flashed again and again, Trent scribbling over her picture, her smitten face, everything. They seemed to merge into one miserable flashback.
"You know I'll always love you-"
"I don't trust anyone whose friends with-"
"You're so beautiful"
"Stop it Duncan!"
"Close your-"
"He loves me!"
"I don't trust anyone-"
"You know I'll always-"
"Close your eyes"
"You know I'll always love you Gwen-"
"Does-"
"Does-"
"Does he?"
Gwen bolted upright from her mental prison, heart hammering.
The sunlight flooded the murky windows of the department store. It was an ugly contrast to the dreary feeling that was shared between the "interns", all of which except Geoff. He was swerving through the teens, camcorder in one hand.
"So, Courtney, give me your thoughts on the situation." He said, pointing the camera into the brunette's face. She huffed.
"I'm not at all fazed. I'm devising a plan to rid myself of this hideous post and gain ownership of this company." She said efficiently, earning confused glares from everyone. Geoff cleared his throat.
"Uh, ok. Good luck with that." He said quietly.
"Thank you." She replied, straightening out her grey blazer. Geoff hastily shut off his camcorder when Chris walked in accompanied by a blonde woman. She was dressed in a daggy apron, lined with red fabric, though her unnerving smile shone through her dull attire. Chris was much like the woman, with the same cheeky grin playing at his lips.
"Welcome, store monkeys!" he began, extending his arms. "This is McLean-Mart. Your prison-I mean workplace for the next two years." Everyone groaned, not at all psyched to be there. Chris chuckled.
"Now, I bet you're wondering who this is," he said, gesturing towards the blonde. She was still smiling.
"No, not really..." Gwen said her voice low and raspy.
"Well, kiddies," Chris continued, ignoring Gwen completely, "say hello to Blaineley. She will be your store manager." He introduced Blaineley, and a small chorus of "hey" and "hello" echoed through the dingy store.
"Did you have to scam her into working for you too?" Heather snapped, arms crossed over her chest. Chris looked appalled.
"I am shocked that you would assume so, Heather!" Chris wailed, pressing a hand to his chest. "But yeah, I did." He added.
"Anyway, enough legal manoeuvres. Blaineley is the big cheese around here. Whatever she says goes. If there's any misbehaving, slacking off, or law breaking-"he paused to shoot Duncan a glare, who stared at him innocently, "Blaineley will report you, and I will double the duration of your contract faster than you can say "Chris is really, really, really, really, hot."" Everyone stared at him incredulously, but looked relived at the sight of Blaineley's relaxed face. She probably wasn't that strict.
"Now, here are your uniforms-"he said, pulling out a pile of dirty clothes that resembled that of Blaineley's, except their aprons were lined with blue. Everyone groaned again. Chris threw each of them an apron, which everyone caught reluctantly. There were several gasps in horror as they held their uniforms in front of them, wondering when the last time they were washed was.
"I am not wearing this!" Trent roared, throwing the apron on the floor in disgust. Chris laughed. He pulled out a copy of their contracts and held it up like some totem.
"Actually, you are." He said sweetly, depositing the bulky contract back into his pocket, puzzling some of the logical of the teens. Trent scowled and picked his apron back up.
"Recording contract, recording contract, recording contract..." he muttered to himself, pulling the apron over his head, the smell of which repulsing him further. Chris clapped his hands together.
"Ok, that's that. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a business to run." He said casually, heading to the door.
"Bye, Chris!" Blaineley called, waving enthusiastically; it looked sickening.
"See? Why don't all of you adore me?" he replied before slamming the door shut. As soon as Chris disappeared, Blaineley turned on the teens, her smile completely vanished.
"Listen here, you brats. I got scammed into doing this dead-end job just like you, so the least I can do is enjoy myself. So, "she started, an evil glint shining in her eyes, where such sweetness lingered only moment ago.
"Goth Girl and Harry Potter can go and start price tagging." She said sternly, gesturing towards Gwen and Trent. Gwen's eyes widened in hate, and Trent sighed.
"Punk Wanna-be and Daddy's Girl-hit the registers!" she barked. Duncan winked at Courtney, to which she gasped.
"Failed Actress," she said, pointing to Heather, "go to the deli." Heather groaned.
"The deli? Like with raw meat?" she said uneasily, imagining the lack of hygiene that awaited her. Blaineley scoffed.
"No. I want you travel to India." She snapped sarcastically, rendering the Asian quiet. She finally turned to Geoff.
"And Cowboy will be greeter." She finished, waiting for Geoff's face to flash into ire. However, it did quite the opposite.
"Greeter? Righteous!" He exclaimed, a smile on his face. Blaineley narrowed her eyes, but said nothing.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Get to work! Customers are coming in ten!" she yelled, as everyone scrambled off to their corresponding areas. Blaineley however, pulled up a plastic chair and started reading a magazine.
At 7:30, the doors of McLean-Mart opened, and in poured the customers, each one of them as curious as the next. Geoff was standing at the door, a smile stretching his face.
"Welcome to McLean-Mart! We hope you enjoy your visit!" he said happily, gesturing towards the isles of products. One customer scoffed.
"I thought this place was gonna close! Didn't all the employees quit?" he said suspiciously, staring at Geoff. His face flashed into panic for a second, before coming up with a sufficient lie.
"Uh, we all applied for the job. I guess we're all really desperate for money." He said lamely, shrugging. The customer laughed.
"Well no offence, kid, but your sense of judgement is as terrible as Chris McLean's service!" he snapped, before walking further into the store. Trying to brush off his insult, Geoff called after the customer in a loud voice:
"Thanks for coming!"
In a corner, Blaineley was staring at him, loathing the fact that he was enjoying himself.
The silence between Gwen and Trent was intense. Every tag that Gwen stuck echoed in Trent's ears, who was drowning under Gwen's icy exterior. He was the first to speak.
"Gwen I-"
"Shut it!" Gwen snapped, keeping her eyes on the dodgy products she was tagging.
"But Gwen-"
"I don't wanna hear it!" Gwen snapped again. Trent pushed on.
"Please just listen-"
"How is anything that you have to say going change anything? What words in the English language can possibly alter the past, or erase my memory?" Gwen yelled, almost slamming her price gun on the floor. Trent looked straight into her eyes.
"Look, if I could turn back time, I would-"Trent started.
"No, you wouldn't." She interrupted, turning back to her tagging.
"Yes I would!" Trent exclaimed. "Look, I was a stupid, cruel, superficial jerk back then-"
"It was only about six months ago-" Gwen screeched.
"Gwen!" Trent bellowed, rendering her silent. Some shoppers were staring at the scene, but right now Trent couldn't care.
"Look, Gwen, it's just, you don't under-"
"I don't understand?" Gwen finished in blank disbelief, "what is it that I cannot understand? I think you made it pretty clear when you unzipped me in front of half the school!"
"Come on, Gwen, you know that's not what I-"
"Not what you meant?" Gwen interrupted; she seemed to have a knack for finishing sentences that day. "Well what did you mean, Trent? Enlighten me as to what concept of this whole situation I can't get through my thick skull!" Gwen's grip on the price gun was so strong her knuckles were whitening, and given the current shade of her skin that was saying a lot. Trent's eyes shifted uneasily.
"I-look I, things were," Trent sighed, "I can't, not here."
Gwen was millimetres away from throwing her price gun to the ground in anger. Instead she grunted in frustration and turned her back on Trent.
"You had your chance. Don't bother."
Trent said nothing.
Heather stood in the deli, the smell of raw meat permanently wrinkling her nose. She served the customers, almost taking on a robotic routine. Bag the meat; wrap up the meat; hand the meat to the customer. It was agonising to watch.
A customer with platinum blonde hair walked up. She smiled.
"Can I have one kilo of salami please?" she asked sweetly, her eyes sparkling. Heather couldn't help but smile at this person's optimism.
"Sure." She said, walking towards the salami tray, only to find it empty. She cursed under her breath and turned to the customer.
"We seem to be all out. There should be some in the freezer. I'll be right back." She replied, before walking towards a large slate door. She heaved it open and disappeared into the chilly room. It was painfully cold.
Shivering slightly, she walked through the unknown territory to where a shelf was labelled: Salami. Grinning, she heaved an icy box of salami into her shaking arms and proceeded to exit the freezer. She kept her eyes on the door. It was so cold she could barely think of anything else.
The door was coming closer, almost there, the salami weighing down her arm. Just a few more-
Heather yelped, stubbing her foot on the corner of a shelf. The box of salami flew from her arms, the momentum of Heather's trip sending the salami soaring quickly. Heather was sent toppling down to the ground, landing on the frozen floor with a thud.
She stared at the box, as it glided across the room and collided with the door. The weight of the box sent the door swinging back to its frame, slamming loudly. Heather screamed, dashing to the door. She heard the lock turning from momentum; she was trapped.
"Damn you, physics!" she cried, trying to pull the door open.
"Help! Help! Help! Anyone?" she chanted at the top of her lungs, shivering furiously from her arctic prison.
The bright, happy chime of the cash register over and over again was enough to send Duncan swirling in a fit of rage; but he thought better of it. He stood there, moving nothing but his arms, serving several faceless customers, and watching them enviously as they exited the building.
Courtney was much the same, though she seemed to be standing a little bit straighter than Duncan was. She opened her cash register for what seemed like the millionth time, to find that she didn't have enough money to make sufficient change for her customer. Sighing, she walked over to Duncan, whose angry facade dissolved at the sight of her.
Ignoring his sudden change of mood, she asked: "Do you have any spare change?" she asked haughtily. Duncan laughed.
"Look, Princess if you want me to take you out you could've asked." He replied cockily, wiggling his eyebrows. Courtney gasped.
"What? No! I'm out of change for my register!" she wailed, shuddering at the idea of the two of them alone together. "So do you have any in your cabinet?" she asked, gesturing towards a small door right in front of Duncan's knees. At this, Duncan grinned.
"I don't know, Princess. I haven't checked." He replied. Courtney huffed at how slow he was.
"Well? Can you?" she asked impatiently. Duncan shook his head, turning his back on her.
"Sorry, Princess, I'm just too darn busy. But if you want you can find out for yourself." He replied, resuming bagging his customer's goods. Courtney gasped.
"Fine!" she retorted, kneeling down. Wondering how she could find her way around this, she attempted to squeeze herself between Duncan legs and the register. Feeling Courtney's strong hands against his legs, Duncan couldn't help but grin triumphantly and groan.
"Ugh!" Courtney exclaimed, repulsed by Duncan's actions. She found her way to the cabinet, but she had done so while pressing her cheek up against Duncan's knee. She fiddled the cabinet open, brushing against Duncan's leg. He giggled.
"Please, Princess, we're working!" He gasped in mock-surprise. Courtney yelped in disgust: "Don't call me Princess!", finally retrieving the cash she had come for. Wondering how to free herself from her incriminating position, she attempted to stand up. She did so successfully, but then found her pressed up against Duncan, who seemed hell-bent on staying put.
"Princess, you're flattering me!" he said slyly, as Courtney turned around, finding her face within millimetres of Duncan's. She tried to wriggle away from Duncan, but his hands were pressed firmly upon the counter.
"Don't call me Princess!" she wailed, Duncan's rushed breaths tickling her neck. She stared into Duncan's eyes...
"Excuse me?" bellowed Courtney's customer. She looked outraged.
"Can you please stop flirting with your co-workers and come here and do your job?" Her customer demanded, staring at Duncan and Courtney's position. Courtney gasped.
"What? I was not flirting with him! I would never flirt with such a, a, a-"
She suddenly felt Duncan's arms leave her sides, the pressure of his body no longer compressing her stomach. She glanced around and saw Blaineley, who was shooting daggers at the two. Composing herself, she dashed back to her register, her face on fire.
Geoff had been greeting people for hours, but still maintained the cheery grin he had when he began. His happiness tore through Blaineley, who seemed determined on wiping the smile of his face. Her mind suddenly popped with an idea. She rushed out of her hiding place and approached Geoff, who had just shaken hands with a brunette girl.
"Geoff!" she said politely, as if greeting an old friend. She draped an arm around his waist and smiled. Geoff returned the grin, but his suspicions ignited at Blaineley's sudden change in mood.
"Hey, Blaineley..." he said, voice faltering.
"Listen," she started, choosing her words carefully. "There's a change in plans. Looks like we don't need a greeter. There's something that's much more essential." She explained, steering Geoff away from the door.
A few minutes later, Geoff returned to his post, only he looked very different. A black wig sat on top of his head, which itched at his scalp. Fake stubble lined his chin, and he was dressed in a classy black tuxedo. In fact, if Chris McLean were to walk in, he would wonder why no one told him that he had an identical twin.
Next to him, was a sign:
Come and give Chris McLean a piece of your mind!
Geoff stood nervously, wondering just what a "piece of your mind" consisted of. He glanced towards Blaineley, who gave him thumbs up from a corner. He sighed.
A woman walked in, read the sign, and proceeded to kick and punch "Chris" aggressively.
"This-is-what-you-get-for-torturing-those-kids!" she sounded each punch with a word, and Geoff was bruising like a peach. Wailing under the woman's physical harm, Geoff couldn't hear Blaineley's satisfied laughter from her corner.
The cold was excruciating. Heather was sitting in the corner of the freezer, knees pressed against her chest to try and keep warm. She was shivering wildly, and unconsciousness was tempting her with the promise of a peaceful sleep.
Her mind was slowly sifting away, the icy temperature blurring her vision. There were several dead animals hanging around her, the grotesque sight adding to her hysteria. Suddenly, there was the most curious shift in light and colour, and the animals around her started to shift shape. Heather, unsure whether she was awake or unconscious, saw a blur of faces, seats and crimson robes.
It looked suspiciously like her graduation ceremony.
Heather flinched, not wanting to revisit the memory. Her peers crowded around her slumped figure, the principal holding an envelope. He opened it, clearing his throat. Hearing the words for a second time seemed much worse.
"And the award for the meanest person goes to, with a total of 96% of the vote, Heather Long!"
Their laughter rang in her ears, more mirthful and ghostly than before. She pressed her hand against her ears, shaking her head violently. In the midst of all their laughter, she could hear strangled cries echoing in the background. She spent hours in her room crying her eyes out that day.
Her former peers vanished, masses of meat standing where they were just moments ago. Heather sighed, before a dead lamb slowly shimmered. Narrowing her eyes from exhaustion, she saw the lamb grow long, blonde hair, and shining blue eyes filled with tears. Lindsay stood before her, her voice high and sorrowful.
"Why were you so mean to me, Heather? I thought we were BFF's!" she wailed, tears streaming down her face. Regret swarmed over Heather's cowering figure, engulfing her completely. She shook her head from side to side, hoping this would somehow erase her memory. Lindsay's mouth opened again.
"I thought we were BFF's!" she yelled again, the pain in her voice cutting through Heather's shivering body.
"We are!" she choked, the plummeted temperature making her voice shake also "We are, Lindsay!" she pleaded desperately, telling herself more than telling Lindsay. Lindsay's eyes closed her figure fading.
"Then-then why were you so mean?" she demanded, her voice high and shrill. Heather rocked from side to side. Lindsay's body was disappearing.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Heather screamed, tears springing to her eyes at the sight of Lindsay disappearing.
"No! Come back! Come back Lindsay! Lindsay, please!"
One last tormented scream vibrated off the icy walls, before everything vanished and Heather was left alone with dead animals once more. She was still shivering violently as she threw her head into her hands, her salty tears warming her cheeks.
"What am I doing here?" she whispered.
The clock read 5:30. Customers were filing out of McLean-Mart with their final purchases, stepping past a mangled Geoff, who was nursing his injuries the customers inflicted on him. Blaineley walked over to him and locked the door.
"Get over here! Now!" she barked, her voice echoing through the empty building. They couldn't tell whether she was just acting normal, or if she was genuinely angry.
"Do you know how many complaints I've gotten?" she screamed, everyone lowering their heads (with the exception of Geoff, who found such exertion impossible). "I've had an elderly couple not liking the screaming going on in the isles!" she turned to face Gwen and Trent, who stared at her emotionless.
"I've had customers tell me that the two check out chicks-"
"Don't you call me a chick!" Duncan retorted.
"-were trying to get into each other's pants!" Blaineley finished, ignoring Duncan's protests.
"What? There is now way I would ever-"Courtney started, face flushing. Blaineley interrupted her also.
"And dozens of customers told me that the deli was out of service for hours!" Blaineley screeched, turning towards-
"Where's Heather?" Duncan asked, glancing around. Everyone was looking for the actress, wondering where she could've gone. Blaineley was fuming.
"Well go and find her!" she ordered as everyone separated.
Gwen looked in the storage area, Trent tried out the back, Geoff ducked in and out of the isles with no luck, and Courtney scanned the car parks suspiciously.
Duncan, however, looked around the last place Heather was seen last- the deli. He jumped the counter with ease, inspecting the trays of raw meat with his nose scrunched. With no sign of her, Duncan sighed and proceeded to jump the counter once more, before his ears perked up at a noise.
It was a painful noise, Duncan's heart strings did indeed get tugged. Following the source of the noise, he found himself pressing his ear up against a large slate door, and listening to the sound of someone crying...
Heather
Grabbing hold of the door handle, he twisted it with all the strength he could muster and pushed the door open. The sight was unnerving. There she was; sitting against a wall, knees up to her chest, her face stained with tears.
"Heather?" Duncan said softly. She lifted her eyes. The pain in them made Duncan wince.
"Duncan!" she replied, standing up attempting to run out the door. However, sitting still for hours on end can take a toll on one's legs. Her knees buckled, sending her falling to the floor awkwardly. Duncan couldn't help but chuckle. He started to take off his t-shirt, his light green undershirt remaining.
We walked over to Heather's slumped figure, handing her his skull shirt.
"Here," he offered. "Put this on." He said huskily. Her cheeks became significantly warmer as she took his shirt, and slipped it over her head. The sensation was marvellous on Heather's icy skin. Plus Duncan smelt...
Strong arms scooped up the cowering girl, as Heather's arms snaked around Duncan's neck instinctively. He lifted her up, her skin causing Duncan to shiver. Heather rested her head on Duncan's chest, the warming feeling his body temperature gave her seeing the end of her shivering.
Duncan walked out of the freezer, slamming the door behind him.
"I've found her!" he called, easing Heather over the counter, making sure she was still in his arms. Everyone came rushing towards the deli, exhausted from their frantic running around the store. There was a chorus of gasps at the sight of Heather's frozen figure in Duncan's arms. Courtney face only flashed to panic for a second.
"Thanks," Heather squeaked, as Duncan slowly let her down onto her own feet. She dug her face into the neck of Duncan's shirt, the pleasant room temperature soothing her skin.
"There you are!" snapped Blaineley, no form of concern showing on her face. "You were absent from the deli for four hours! 4 hours! Do you know how much business we lost because of your slacking off?" The ire in Blaineley's eyes was dangerous.
"I was locked in the freezer!" Heather yelled, her fuming gaze rivalling Blaineley's "I went into to get some salami and tripped. The box hit the door and locked it! I wasn't slacking off!" Blaineley walked up to Heather swiftly and raised a hand, but before Blaineley could violate any employee rights regulations, she caught herself. Heather sighed, her eyes closing.
"Just get out of here. All of you!" The venom in Blaineley's voice was enough to send them all rushing to the door as fast as their legs could take them. As soon as all of them were out of the building, they took no care to silence their complaints.
"She's almost as bad as Chris!" started Duncan, tearing his apron from his head furiously.
"Well what did you expect? She's in the same situation as us!" piped up Courtney, brushing her blazer free from department store debris.
"Still, that gives her no right to take her anger out on us." Gwen reasoned. Trent scoffed.
"Funny, you seem to be doing the same thing." He muttered, earning him another hard, angry glare from both Gwen and Duncan. Geoff sighed.
"Well, there's only one thing to do when you're super ticked off…" he started, taking his camcorder in one hand and rubbing yet another bruise with the other. Everyone stared at him, wondering if they actually wanted to know the answer. Geoff smiled.
"Go to a pub of course!" he said brightly, sweeping his camera over his co-workers' surprised stares. Go to a pub? Right after a day of torture?
After a few seconds of contemplation, Heather sighed.
"Sure, anything to stay away from home." She said reluctantly, still stroking the seams of Duncan's shirt.
"Yeah, ok," Duncan added soon after.
"I'll go." Courtney shot immediately. Trent's agreement came next.
"May as well…"
All eyes then fixed on Gwen. Her arms were crossed across her chest, her discarded apron scrunched in her fist. Her eyes narrowed at Geoff.
"Well, unlike you, I don't see the novelty of getting drunk with people I met a week ago." She said flatly. Everyone in the group could almost feel themselves deflating slightly. Geoff zoomed in his camera into her face, her bitter expression now magnified.
"You know me, Pasty." Duncan said hopefully, nudging her in the ribs. Gwen grunted.
"Lucky me." She retorted, her eyes not moving from the spot on the concrete that suddenly seemed extremely interesting. "And get that camera out of my face." She added, pressing her palm into the lens of Geoff's camcorder.
He yelped for a second, before pulling his precious camera away from Gwen's deadly hands. He continued to film, however.
"Come on…" Geoff said childishly, dragging his voice on for what seemed like minutes. Gwen's face twisted, staring now at everyone's faces. Duncan nudged her again.
"I'm your ride, Pasty. You go where I go." He smiled triumphantly at his argument. Gwen's eyes rolled before she sighed tiredly.
"Fine." She said, her lips barely moving. Geoff's smile widened.
"Righteous. Ok guys, I know this awesome place downtown. Just follow me." He instructed, strolling to his mustard jeep. Everyone said their own "o.k.'s before setting off to their respective vehicles.
Duncan and Gwen were silent. Duncan's hands were firmly on the wheel, and Gwen was staring out the window absent-mindedly. Duncan gave Gwen a playful shove from the driver's seat.
"Come on, Gwen. Lighten up. It won't be that bad." He ensured, keeping his eyes peeled for Geoff's car in the distance. Gwen turned her head towards her brother and groaned.
"Oh my god. That cowboy is rubbing off on you. I'm sorry but if you start wearing open pink shirts and say "righteous" every 2 seconds, I'm gonna have to kill you." Gwen replied, her face emotionless. Duncan retaliated by shoving Gwen's head to the right. Gwen winced, a fake "ouch!" filling the car.
"A deal's a deal." Duncan said, laughing, "But seriously what do you have against Geoff?" he asked. Gwen's playful attitude vanished.
"It's just," she paused, trying to find the right words to phrase what was whizzing around in her mind. "He's just happy all the time. I mean, he's always smiling; it's annoying. I swear, if someone smiles all the time, it's either because they have something to hide, or they're some brainwashed robot." Gwen spewed, not being able to stop once she started. Duncan chuckled, making a right as he saw Geoff's jeep disappear.
"Yeah, well you're frowning all the time, so I don't think you're one to talk." He replied with a smirk. Gwen opened her mouth, before she realised that there was no argument left. She sighed in defeat.
"Touché," she muttered, resuming her staring out the window.
All five cars pulled up at the curb, the sight of the pub not at all as "righteous" as Geoff claimed it would be. The building was made up of murky brown bricks, and was a midget compared to the towering buildings surrounding it. An emerald neon sign was flashing above the door reading:"Devon Joseph", and the building seemed to be wafting the most dominant smell of liquor.
Everyone stepped out of their cars, having second thoughts about entering the miniature building. Geoff, once again, was the only one ecstatic. He caught sight of their uneasy looks and flipped his camcorder on.
"Now, now guys," he started, flipping his cowboy hat out of his eyes, "don't judge a book by its cover. It's actually a pretty good place, and 'cause I'm tight with the owner, we get free drinks!" he added, earning a few impressed raised eyebrows.
"Well, if it's free then…" trailed off Trent. He took a deep breath and stepped forward. Geoff grinned. Everyone followed suit, and they all walked into the little pub together.
The room that greeted them wasn't very appealing to the eye. It looked as if it was about to fall apart any second. The whole place was lit with dimming lights, affording the place a pleasant warming ambiance. Cream paint was peeling off every wall, and the wooden counter was scattered with splinters. A few people occupied tables, and there were five people slouched in stools at the bar.
"Yo, Deej!" Geoff called, cupping the side of his mouth in an attempt to make his voice louder. From around the corner of the bar emerged a man. His dark skin almost glowed in the low lights, and the smile on his face could brighten anyone's day. He was dressed in a darkening green shirt, a white cap hugging his head. His eyes lit up at the sight of Geoff.
"Hey, Geoff, how's it going?" he asked casually, cleaning a glass with a dish rag that used to be white. Geoff approached the barman, and within a span of two seconds, the pair had exchanged some complicated hand gesture that everyone assumed was their private hand shake. Geoff leaned against the bar, facing his co-workers.
"Guys, this is DJ; he owns the place. DJ-guys; they work with me." Geoff introduced the two parties with a flick of his wrist. DJ eyed the group interestingly. He chuckled, broad shoulders shaking.
"Nice to meet you," he said kindly. "So you're the other guys who were made chumps by Chris McLean." DJ couldn't hide the smugness of his voice, which made Courtney take it as an insult.
"I am nobody's chump thank you very much!" she snapped haughtily, blinking rapidly. DJ said nothing.
"So DJ, is the roof free tonight? We're thinking of having a little celebratory drink for the first day." Geoff said suddenly, breaking the awkward silence. DJ set his glass down and nodded.
"Yeah, head on up." He replied. Geoff smiled broadly, strutting his way towards a flight of wooden stairs that matched the counter. Everyone followed, not daring to separate themselves from the group. Geoff started to walk up the stairs, but before he could disappear out the ceiling, he turned around to DJ and said: "Thanks a billion!"
Not waiting to hear his friends' reply, Geoff led the way up the stairs, and through the white door that awaited them at the top. The view was spectacular.
The back of the building was exposed from its towering neighbours, revealing a scenic view of Toronto's rushing highway, several cars whizzing across in crimson lights. The sky was studded with silver stars, and in front of them was a small glass patio, which rooved ten maroon recliner chairs and a pine wood coffee table standing in the middle. Sitting in one of the chairs gave people the pleasure of sipping a drink and then indulging themselves of the calming scene of Toronto City.
None of them would ever judge a book by its cover again.
"This is it," Geoff stated, strolling over towards the closest recliner. He flung himself into it clumsily; he almost tipped it over. He exhaled deeply and gestured towards the other chairs to his work mates.
"Best view in Toronto…" Gwen said, in something stuck between a whisper and a mutter. Geoff felt himself smiling.
The rest of them proceeded to fill the chairs, each one sighing in content when the comforting sensation of cushion against skin ridded their memories of their horrific first day.
Everyone was still staring at awe at the scenery surrounding them, and the peaceful silence was only broken when the sound of someone clearing their throat snapped their head towards the door.
There stood a rather scrawny boy, no older than themselves. His hands were shaking under the black tray on top of them, which seated six green bottles. He smiled confidently (though his baby blue eyes betrayed him), revealing a rather irritating or adorable (depending on how one perceives it) gap between his two front teeth. His chestnut hair was slightly dishevelled, and he seemed to shuffle more than walk towards them.
"DJ thought you might want some drinks," he said, extending his arms and placing the tray on the coffee table. He stood there awkwardly, waiting for any of them to grab his offering. Geoff was the first. Almost diving from his seat, Geoff grabbed a bottle in his right hand swiftly.
"Thanks, man." He thanked, taking a sip. Gwen and Duncan grabbed their bottles at the same time, both grinning at yet another thing that made them alike. It wasn't until after Gwen and Duncan both felt the satisfying feeling of the warm liquor swim down their throats did Geoff introduce the boy.
"Guys, this is Cody. He works here after College." Cody waved at them, eyeing the females a little bit more than the males. Courtney was the first to speak.
"What College do you go to?" she asked curiously, she too grasping a bottle and taking a swig.
"ITCT" he replied casually, brushing his bangs away from his line of vision. Trent raised an eyebrow, impressed.
"Information Technology College of Toronto?" he gasped. Cody's cheeks flushed red slightly at this comment, "nice. I go to TCM" Trent added, bringing his bottle to his lips.
"Into music, huh?" Cody replied, now feeling more at ease. Trent nodded.
"You have no idea…" he said vaguely, his eyes only casting in Gwen's direction for one second. But Cody was quick. Following the musician's eyes, he found himself staring at the Goth. Cody could feel his insides contract. He tried to tear his eyes away, he really did, but he just couldn't find the will to deprive himself of her flawless white face, her elegant black and teal hair, her piercing onyx eyes, her-
"Excuse me?" Cody snapped out of his momentary lapse in concentration. Gwen stared at Cody, an eyebrow raised. He could tell by the fiery look in her eyes that any efforts of his would be in vain. Sighing, he managed to squeak out a reply: "Sorry, just tried", before descending back down the stairs.
Needless to say, Gwen's mood soured for the rest of the night thanks to Cody's invasive ogling.
"Hey guys, do you wanna play truth or dare or something?" Geoff suggested after a few minutes of pointless banter. A majority of heads nodded, and Geoff placed his now empty bottle onto the table. With a twist of his fingers the bottle went spinning around too many times to count, before the neck landed right in front of Trent, and its base in front of Courtney.
"Trent, truth or dare?" Courtney asked, although enthusiasm wasn't present in her voice. He chose truth, and Courtney screwed up her face in thought. Her eyes widened at an idea.
"When did you start playing guitar?" she asked, not seeing the novelty of asking questions that would cause him to blush furiously and feel violated. Smiling, Trent was happy to answer his question.
"I was nine. It was my grandad's death anniversary, and we were going through his old stuff. My mum pulled out a guitar and told me he used to play. In fact, he even tried to teach her and my aunts and uncles. When I was born he swore that he would teach me, but he died before I could hold one." He paused to look out to the view before continuing. "I started guitar the following week to make my grandad proud. I've been playing ever since."
Courtney let out a little "aww" at the end of his story, and was appalled that no one else had done so. Her jaw dropped.
"What? It was sad!" she exclaimed.
"Yeah, we know, but we just don't feel the need to raise our voices, Princess." Duncan replied, smirking. Courtney grunted.
"Don't, call, me,-"
"Ok who's next?" Geoff bellowed, trying to drown out any potential argument. He sent the bottle rotating again. Its neck landed on Geoff, and its base on Gwen. Geoff whooped at his selection as if he had just won a prize. Gwen simply sunk into her chair, arms firmly crossed against her chest.
"Dare all the way, baby!" he yelled, jumping to his feet. Gwen sighed.
"Go jump off the roof." She demanded flatly, not moving her eyes. Geoff shifted awkwardly.
"But, uh, Dudette, I'd probably die." He said slowly, peering over the edge of the building. Gwen chuckled darkly.
"Exactly." She muttered. Geoff's face fell and sighed.
The rest of the night preceded much the same; everyone had the pleasure of seeing Duncan flash passer-by's, and discovered that Heather came from New York. Finally, when a few hours had passed and the moon was shining down like a blinding light, everyone retired to their cars and drove home to recuperate for another day at McLean-Mart.
GAH! so long, and it was kinda weird too...
Oh i made up ITCT as well, i'm all for creating colleges :)
Anyways, so now things are starting to happen, but there is still much more in store, i promise you that!
So, review and keep your eyes peeled for the next chapter, where things get intreresting...
BFG