Author's note: I wrote this little snip bit as a way of avoiding actual responsibility. I will update "Child of the street" soon I promise
"Dear God, Audrey! You live right across the street?! Is it too much to expect you to be on time?!"
Her eyes fell down to the floor.
"No sir," she whispered.
Audrey was used to being scolded or jested at by Mr. Mushnik, even if it was nothing compared to the torment he gave Seymour. It was mundane at this point. As common as "Good morning" but today was different. She hadn't slept. She had just started her night job this week and she was exhausted and feeling incredibly overwhelmed.
"9:00 means 9:00! I'm not doing anybody favors here!"
She chewed on her lip and kept her eyes on the floor. "No Mista Mushnik."
"God! What has gotten into you lately?!"
At this she couldn't take it anymore. She let out a small whimper and brought her hands to her mouth. "I'm sorry sir," she blubbered before completely breaking down.
This threw off Mushnik so much he backed up a pace. This was new.
Burying her face in her hands she shook. Her wails filled the shop as she struggled to calm her staggered breathing. Her black makeup ran down her face streaking her cheeks and hands.
"I'm sorry Mista Mushnik. I…"
Suddenly a sharp crash made them both jump. They looked over to the counter to see Seymour standing by a box of clay pots, the shattered remains of one laying at his feet still wobbling slightly.
"I'm sorry sir," he said, though Audrey noticed with an artificial sense of shame.
"Krelborn!" he bellowed, stepping away from Audrey, completely forgetting his beef with her.
He positioned himself inches from Seymour's face and shouted. Seymour didn't flinch like usual. He didn't hang his head or apologize as he was known to do with Mushnik. He just stood there and looked him straight in the eye, unwavering.
Audrey looked at the remains of the pot at their feet. Seymour is very clumsy but there was no way he could've just knocked it over, she thought. It was inside a box on the counter. And he wouldn't have been unloading it or moving it. It's waiting for a pick up order. She looked back up from the pot to his face, still unwavering. Did he... drop it on purpose?
"I hope you know that's coming out of your wages!"
"Yes sir."
Why would he have done that? Now he's the one being yelled at and...
Her eyes widened with realization.
