**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Wow, I just realized I haven't posted a chapter since Christmas break, which was EXACTLY 2 months ago! I have an upcoming holiday break (President's Week, and I get all week off!) so I will for sure be doing some writing then. For now, enjoy this short but sweet chapter! **END AUTHOR'S NOTE**

"Here's your uniform, uh..." The manager eyed him and looked back at the name tag. "Billy." The manager tossed him a lime green collared shirt.

"Right," He sighed as he realized not even the manager cared to remember his name. In situations like this, he'd always look for a bright side, an advantage to getting the job. Off the top of his his head, there were none.

"Who are you?" A familiar voice made him turn. Behind him was another employee, probably nineteen or so. Despite the fact that his hair was cut short and bright blue, he could plainly tell it was the one kid who had ruined his otherwise successful robbery. Internally, he winced. Please don't recognize me. The employee gave him a dull expectant look as he obviously didn't have a clue who he was.

"I'm new here," Seriously though, how could he not know? He remembered his monologue and how he had literally been inches away from his face.

"You got the job here?" An astonishment to his little brain, he thought.

"Yes."

"But, you're so...old."

"I'm twenty-nine... Justin."

"Woah! How do you know my name?"

"Name tag, idiot."

"Oh yeah, huh,"

Another strangely familiar voice from behind made him start. "Don't mind him, he's kind of a jackass."

He turned around to see...nothing. Tilting his head downwards slightly he noticed that the source of the voice was from someone very short. She was blonde with brunette streaks in her hair...

"Hey, I know you! You're that guy I freaked out. At the laundromat."

He shrugged. "Yep, just that guy," He muttered the last part under his breath. "Nobody else..."

"Sorry about that again. Sometimes I get so mad I just wanna strangle something fluffy and innocent, like a koala. You know what I mean?"

"Um..."

She held out her hand. "I'm Danyn. Sounds like the yogurt, but it's spelled differently. Funny thing is I work mostly near the refrigerator isle and all I see is the stuff."

Still unsure of her intentions, he cautiously but cooly accepted her handshake. "Billy,"

"I saw that."

"How-"

"Name tag, idiot."

"Oh," He glanced at her uniform. "You don't have a name tag?"

Danyn shrugged. "Eh, I keep it in my pocket just in case the manager comes around, which is, like, once in a millennia. Plus, I've been around long enough that most people know me anyways."

"Doesn't that take a while?"

"Oh, years," She picked up two brooms and handed one to him, then turned and started sweeping. "I guess I've never thought about how long I wanted to have this job. It pays the bills. That's all I really cared about. Although I do occasionally wish I had my own laundry machine." She paused, turning back around. "You gonna sweep or what?"