chapter 3! You are all AMAZING :) we just cracked over 200 hits on AO3, along with 7 bookmarks and 37 kudos. on , we got 2 followers and 3 favorites. all in the first three weeks of this fic! I'm always very nervous to share my writing, and I'm glad that yall are enjoying my stupid work. it means so much. i know that this isn't that big of a deal, but it kind of is to me.
leave a comment/review, I respond to all of them and they make me happy! the story is going to be picking up soon. we are officially 1/5 of the way through Blockbuster, pretty fast.
...
Leo walked into the Blockbuster right before it opened as though he owned the place, clutching a mustard-stained application form in one hand and his skateboard in the other. "What's up, boss! Here's my application." He waved it in the air like a white flag (Surrendering yourself to the man, Piper would say).
Sarah wrinkled her nose and snatched it from him, skimmed the paper, and nodded, then flicked it into the recycling bin. Three points. "Yeah, you're hired," she decided quickly. "Nico!" she shouted. Her voice was broken glass, clear and sharp.
Nico poked his head around the corner from where he was restocking shelves. "Yes?" He did not look very thrilled to be working at eight in the morning.
"Train him up." She pointed to Leo, who grinned and gave Nico finger guns.
"You were serious about working here?" Nico said in disbelief. Leo nodded, that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. Nico groaned. "I thought you were just bullshitting about that."
"Nope! I am a working man now," Leo chimed in.
"Okay, enough of the dilly-dallying!" Sarah exclaimed. "Hurry up and get to training. And Leo, park that skateboard somewhere next time!"
"Yes ma'am," Leo saluted, tossing his board over the counter when she wasn't looking. Nico sighed, preparing himself for a long day with Leo's over-dramatic ass. "Looks like we're officially coworkers," Leo sang, slinging an arm over Nico's shoulder.
"Let's go to the back room now," he said through gritted teeth, shrugging off Leo's arm and leading the way back.
Leo smirked. "Oh, I thought I was paying off my debts as a cashier, but you know what, I'm not opposed to prostitution-"
"Shut up and let me get you your uniform. What size are you?" Nico asked, walking into the back room and filtering through the uniform boxes.
"Is that a euphemism?"
Nico growled, thrusting a medium-sized polo and a pair of khakis into Leo's hands. "Just put this on."
"Okay," Leo said, rolling his eyes. "Would've expected a skimpy maid outfit or something with the way you've been dirty talking…"
"I'm not dir- are you seriously just gonna change right here?" Leo had started to undo his belt without any prompting.
"Yeah, man. Thought you'd appreciate it more."
"Fuck off." He turned around before Leo could take off his pants and wheeled a battered TV in from the corner, as though Leo was in elementary school, and they were watching Bill Nye. He ejected a Pokemon VHS from the player and put a new VHS in its place. He sat cross-legged on the ground, patting the spot next to him. "Come watch the training video."
Leo nodded, brushing dust off his Blockbuster polo. "This thing is kinda sick. Do I get a nametag, too?" Nico rooted in another box and handed him a chipped nametag.
"Why doesn't this say Leo Valdez? My name is not Tabitha Milford, what the fuck?" He pinned it to his shirt, nonetheless.
"Look, asshole, we're on a budget. We're understaffed, and we don't have time to go to Best Buy and use their label maker. Take the tag or leave it." Leo groaned, setting his eyes on the training video.
It was your bog-standard 90s training video- featuring cheesy dialogue, bad acting, and plenty of boom mics. They watched in silence. "Wow. This is lame as hell," Leo complained.
"Yeah." Nico was unsympathetic. He wished he could pull out his Gameboy instead. He stared at the ground instead, until pulling his gaze to Leo, mapping out his features. Out of pure boredom, of course. He never really looked that hard at Leo.
Leo's polo was oversized, and his khakis fit him too tightly. His hair was messy and overgrown and had no beanie to hide it. His hands fidgeted and twitched when he had nothing to do. Little flaws were splotched across his face, zits and moles and scars littering his skin. His body was scrawny, underdeveloped like he had starved during puberty.
Part of Nico wondered if Leo was just overcompensating for his flaws when he cracked jokes and fake-flirted.
The tape ended. It was a short training video. Nico flicked his eyes away before Leo noticed he was staring. "Okay, now that that's over with, I have to show you the inner workings of the store."
"Is that a euphe-"
"No."
…
Nico took Leo around the store, giving him a brief run-down of the place. He taught Leo how to operate the register, handle late fees, and restock shelves in the way Sarah wanted them to. He even tried to explain the sales pitch they were supposed to use to sell candy, but Leo said he would "use his natural charisma" instead.
"This seems easy enough," Leo said confidently. Nico snickered.
"It's easy until you have a bunch of whiny families come in. The Winstons are the worst by far," Nico complained, opening the other counter for Leo. "The mom always asks to speak to the manager."
Leo sat in his little swivel chair, observing the counter he was working in. "Oh yeah? I bet she's white."
"Yup," Nico said, popping the 'p' and settling into his own counter. "I'll forward them to you, Tabitha." Nico grinned. Having another person around to help might actually not suck.
"Oh, come on. Why do I have to deal with them?" Leo said, rolling around in his chair. Nico leaned over and stopped his chair, causing Leo to fly out of it. "Oof." He landed on his rear, springing up and slumping back down. "Rude."
Nico smiled. "Whatever. Sarah's gone now, to the other Blockbuster location. She rarely visits this one, anyway."
Leo snorted. "Good. She's a dick."
Soon, customers began rolling in, renting things left and right so they could spend their Saturdays watching Disney Movies or playing Pokemon Snap. Leo learned how to handle the register very quickly. "Care to throw in a bag of Sour Patch for your sister, miss?" he would offer to an obvious mother who would swoon and buy it just because she was flattered.
"Have a great day!" Nico crossed his arms and huffed. "What?"
"Isn't that a little manipulative?"
"No," Leo said. "I need to get my bonus somehow."
"We don't get bonuses, honestly," Nico admitted. "I got one once at the end of the school year, but that's it."
Leo groaned, but then put on a smile when he saw there was a customer in line. "Find everything alright? Good." He scanned the cases. "Anyway, Neeks, are there any benefits to working here?"
Nico hummed. "Uh, when the candy gets stale, we get to have it for free."
"That's it?"
"Look, man. This isn't some sort of fancy establishment. I'm pretty sure people do drugs in our bathrooms. It's a Blockbuster, for fuck's sake, get real."
"Really? Jeez." Leo waved off his customer. "Can we take home any movie we want for as long as we want?" He asked, hopefully.
"No, Sarah might catch us. We get an extension on late fees, though." Nico was starting to get sick of Leo's questions.
"She's not the boss of you."
"She kind of is. She's the assistant manager, remember?" Nico swiped a bit of hair behind his ear and rested his arm on the counter.
"Fine, let me rephrase that," Leo said, pausing for dramatic effect. "You're not her bitch."
Nico glared from over the counter. "I'm nobody's bitch. She's just my boss."
"Boss, shmoss! Live a little. Why work here if you're not going to break the rules?" Leo asked, poking his head up and tapping on the counter.
"..."
"Rules are meant to be broken!"
"Nothing is meant to be broken, that's stupid."
"Piñatas," Leo countered, finger-gunning Nico.
"...Just go help the old lady in line." Leo beamed.
"You got it! Hello, ma'am, find everything alright?" Leo scooped up her rentals and scanned her card, logging it into the computer.
"Yes, son," she mumbled.
"Good. Now, before you go, would you be interested in some Junior Mints? How about some Sour Patch?" He held up the candies he listed as though he was on an as seen on TV commercial.
"No, thank you, dear," the old woman said, grabbing her VHS tape and her Blockbuster card. "I have diabetes."
"Oh, shit, sorry!" Leo blurted out, setting down the candy boxes. Nico hid a smirk behind his hand.
The old lady glared at him, slipping her things into her purse. "Young man, I don't like that language." She humphed and hit him upside the head with her bag, sauntering off as she mumbled under her breath about how ungrateful the youth are.
"Ow! That lady had a mean right hook."
Nico snickered at Leo's anger.
"Is this funny to you?"
"Yeah," Nico says, unapologetic.
"Rude."
Nico shrugged, stretching his limbs noncommittally. "I told you people are batshit here."
They kept working, helping out a few more customers. Nico assumed Leo had gone silent when after ten minutes, he broke the silence between them.
"...Any hot chicks go here? Or guys?" Leo asked curiously, eyes wandering the store and looking everywhere but at Nico.
"Guys?" Nico picked up the word.
"Whatever, I'm bisexual. You have a problem, di Angelo?" Nico blinked. That's the first time Leo had seemed truly serious. Nico saw a hint of anxiety in his eyes, and for a split second, Nico could see his mask fall, a tinge of insecurity exuding Leo for only a moment.
It matched the same look he saw in the mirror every day.
Maybe there was a little more to Leo than he saw. But in an instant, Leo was grinning again.
Nico could still see the tiniest bit of unsureness in his face. "No, I don't care if you're bisexual. And...I guess there are hot people here? I don't pay attention to my customers."
"But you remembered me, am I special?" Leo wondered.
"Sure, I remembered you, but not really for a good reason."
Leo feigns offense. "Go-lee! You always attack me like that."
"Do you know how many parents yelled at me because you would move pornos over to the children's-"
"Okay, okay, sorry. But in my defense, it was funny, right?"
Radio silence.
"You think I'm funny!"
"I think no such thing." Nico's mouth went tight, a little dimple forming in his right cheek.
"Ahem."
"Sorry, sir, I'll be right with you, my coworker just gets a little crabby on Saturdays." Nico hit his head against the counter and groaned loudly.
He couldn't wait until Leo got fired/paid off his debts. Whichever came first.
...
Leo did not stop asking Nico questions, unfortunately. Nico bored out of his mind, humored them reluctantly.
"When did you start working here?"
Nico racked his brain for the answer. "April of this year."
"What's your favorite show?"
"I don't watch much TV."
"What's your full name?"
"It's on my nametag, Tabitha."
Leo blinked. "Oh, I assumed your nametag was the wrong name like mine is."
"Well, it's not."
The guy seemed to have an endless stream of shit to say. Awkward silences and extended pauses did not cut it for him. Nico could feel the ADHD reverberating off of Leo. From the way he jumped from subject to subject, to the long, one-sided conversation they had about skateboards, and the fact that he was able to make a fucking race car out of the office supplies they kept on the counter.
Nico watched as Leo raced the little car around the counter, jumping it over erasers and making little donuts on the job application forms. "How did you do that with paper clips and shit?" He had to ask.
"So, I guess you wanna initiate the conversations now?" Leo teased, flicking the car into the trash and slumping over in his chair. Little flakes of picked-off nail polish littered the carpet around him.
Nico watched the car soar into the trash. "You're just going to...you're just going to throw it away?" Leo had spent a good five minutes on it just to toss it.
Leo shrugged, weirded out by the fact that Nico cared. "I mean, yeah? It's just a stupid car." He got to work immediately on something new, fiddling his hands and creating something with pen-stained fingers. "I'll just make a helicopter or something."
"Wow, okay, Albert Einstein."
"Whatever, Bob Nanna."
…
Nico headed home after work, humming along to the radio and nursing a headache after listening to Leo all day. He made it back home fairly quickly, thanks to some light speeding and good luck. He shuffled into his house, a suburban identical to every other house on the block. It was relatively upscale, too, thanks to his father's money.
Nico didn't need to work, but it gave him something to do after school and enough spending money to buy some extra things he wanted.
"How was work?" His stepmother asked, idly watching television and lounging on the couch. She didn't even bother to look up when he arrived. Nico shrugged.
"Cool, I suppose. You?" Nico asked, apathetically. They had the same exchange every day. Persephone would ask him how his day went, he'd say it was cool no matter how shitty it had been, and she would say her day was-
"So-so," she said indifferently. "I made a lasagna."
"Thanks."
"No problem."
That was the extent of his relationship with his stepmother. It was a merely tolerable one at best.
As for his father, he worked late hours, so Nico only saw him in the mornings. Even then, their relationship wasn't much more stellar than his begrudging relationship with his stepmother.
Nico could tell his stepmother wasn't big on Nico- and he couldn't blame her; he was just crammed awkwardly into their quiet life when his mother died. It was a little better when Bianca was alive, but she wasn't anymore.
It's not like Nico made an effort to connect with his parents, anyway. He was content with keeping it the way it was. In three years, he would go to college or get a job or something or move out.
He cut a piece of lasagna, sticking a fork in it and silently bringing it up to his bedroom. It felt like he and his father and stepmother were just roommates instead of a singular family unit: a little sad, but nothing Nico wasn't used to.
Nico ate his lasagna while reading through his upcoming notes to prepare for an approaching chemistry test. He wasn't an academic person, but when you had no friends, there wasn't much to do at the end of the day. Having good grades would help him get to college (what he would do in college, Nico was unsure of).
He finished up his work, throwing on a pair of sweats and tying up his hair. Nico smiled, grabbing his translucent purple Gameboy Color from his backpack. It was one of his first big purchases with money made entirely by him. Pokemon Yellow was permanently stuck into the cartridge slot, visible through the purple plastic.
Nico admired the inner-workings of the Gameboy through the clear plastic. It had always fascinated him how the components of the machine worked. Somehow, all those green circuit boards and connected wires worked together to load his game of Pokemon. He never understood it himself.
Nico opened the game, immediately turning around and pressing a on his Pikachu. Nico smiled. It was an utterly charming game.
Nico adored Pokemon. He had 'Pokemania,' as all those news stations put it. He had caught nearly every Pokemon, memorized every single Pokemon and its typing, and was well-versed in the lore of the game. He would spend longer than he was proud to admit pouring over his extensive Pokemon card collection (thank god for his minimum wage job; otherwise, he couldn't fund his Pokemon addiction).
Sometimes, Nico thought about what it would be like to share his interest in Pokemon with others. To be able to play the card game with someone. To watch episode after episode of the anime and talk about it and laugh along with somebody who shared his love for the franchise.
Instead, Nico spent his Saturdays playing Pokemon. Instead, Nico stared at the cards alone. Instead, Nico stole copies of Pokemon from Blockbuster and watched them in the backroom during his breaks.
It was somewhat pathetic, and Nico knew it. It's not like he dared to ask someone else to play with him- he was a sophomore, for fucks sake. Asking someone to play Pokemon with him would be like walking up to Dash and saying, "Hey, I'd really love to get beaten up right now."
Nico knew he was overthinking it, but he didn't care. He leaned back in bed and opted to look through his Pokedex instead.
…
Even though Jason put on the 'perfect student' image, he hated being on the student council.
Really, he was only doing it so he could get into some good college. But if he could quit, he would. Realistically, Jason knew everyone on the student council would be disappointed.
Jason had worked hard to be junior class president, going from a lowly representative during freshman year to now being in charge of the whole junior class.
Everyone on the committee was kind of pretentious, though. With the exception of Reyna, who was the senior class president, nobody else seemed to have a personality beyond student council. Jason figured he fell into that category until he became good friends with Leo and Piper.
They met every other Tuesday after school in the same empty Science classroom and discussed the same three topics: upcoming events, budget issues, and troublemaking.
"Detention rates have increased by 3% from last year," Rachael, the senior vice president, said. She was notoriously upset by the fact that she wasn't the class president. Jason had sat through one too many rants from her. "What are some ways we can incentivize people to stay out of trouble?"
"We can encourage people to keep their friends in line," a meek freshman representative mumbled.
Rachael shook her head. "Yeah, not gonna happen. I'm sure Jason has tried that several times with his friends," she said pointedly.
Jason resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I know, my friends suck apparently."
Reyna hummed. "She has a point. If you could get both Leo and Piper to stop getting in trouble, the detention rate would plummet 50%."
They were having this conversation again, huh? Every single student council meeting seemed to always transform into a push for Jason to abandon his friends and fall into the cliquey nature of the high school. He was always regarded as too 'cool' or 'good' to be with Piper and Leo.
Honestly, Jason always thought of it as the opposite, but clearly, he was just going to keep getting pressured until the day he graduated or the day he quit. "They're their own people, Reyna," Jason voiced. "I can't control them."
Reyna, understanding Jason's view, nodded and moved the meeting along to the next topic before any of the freshman could chime in awkwardly.
Man, Jason couldn't wait until graduation.
...
that was chapter 3!
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