theme: charm necklace

The tattered mop plunged head-first into the plastic bucket, splashing a bit of it's brown liquid over the sides.

In one fluid motion, Eileen tugged the handle of the mop and pushed its' watery contents against the splotchy tiling, trying her hardest to get rid of the mud-tracked footprints that had been left earlier in the day. The Coffee Shop was eerily vacant. No one present besides the only employee, spending her Saturday night cleaning up after other people by herself instead of reading that novel she was captivated by, or playing video games, or working on her next craft project to display on her blog... or bearing through a late-night shift with Margaret.

Eileen gritted her teeth and started putting muscle into mopping up the floor.

Frustration plied up on top of loneliness. A great way to end her shift.

Her entire day had consisted of scurrying around, like a malnourished rat scavenging for food to fill its' belly, compiling orders from strangers. It was a lot harder to keep track of who ordered what, now that she was the only waitress there. Mordecai and Rigby hadn't shown up once.

Mordecai.

She wondered if he was going through the same kind of internal turmoil as she was.

The morning crowd had treated Eileen with a combination of hostility and impatience; frankly, she was in such a poor mood to start out with, they got it back from her in return.

She couldn't comprehend the emotions that were building up inside of her. They were so negative, so adverse; not the kind of reaction she would of expected to such great news. She felt like a terrible friend for not being remotely proud of Margaret's accomplishment. Her best friend had gotten into a prestigious college... the school of her dreams, even! Margaret could finally pursue journalism. Wander into a new chapter of her life.

But the thing was, Eileen wasn't a part of it.

The mole forced herself to swallow her sorrow to output a false "congratulations!". How was she supposed to react to Margaret moving away, so out of the blue? She shut her eyes and continued to work on the stain, laboriously scrubbing it.

A bell jingled at the top of the steps. The autumn breeze swept through, bringing in red and gold-colored leaves along with it. Eileen paused and glanced up.

"Hey, Eileen," Rigby greeted, stuffing his grubby hands back into his crimson hoodie pocket.

"Hi," she responded, carrying on with her cleaning. "I could really go for a meatball sub right now. I'm starved!" Rigby exclaimed, rubbing his gut as he treaded down the stairs.

More murky water. More swabbing. "You know as well as I do that the Coffee Shop closes at ten-thirty," Eileen told him. "Why are you here so late?"

Rigby exhaled loudly, then took a seat at his usual spot. "Alright, you caught me. I wanted to see if you were... you know, okay and all," he answered, placing his chin in his hands.

"How is Mordecai handling all of this?" Rigby frowned.

"Badly." Eileen wasn't pleased with the response. She carried the bucket and emptied its' remains into the sink and wrung out the mop before washing her hands. "Poor guy," she murmured as she turned the faucet off.

"Yeah, Mordo just has trouble getting used to this kind of stuff," he replied quietly, his expression souring. "But... he'll get over her soon enough, I guess. He just needs me right now. To try and get him out of his funk."

The young waitress nodded, joining Rigby at his table.

"Do you think you'll get over her?"

"What?" Eileen asked, eyes widening.

"Well, maybe not get over her exactly, but like, get used to her being gone?" Rigby asked, toying with the strings of his hoodie. "I... I don't know. Maybe. Like you said, I just need to adjust to everything being different before I can... accept it, I suppose," Eileen said, pressing her body weight against the front of the table.

"It's not like she's gone forever or anything. You could still give her a call or send her something or whatever. And even with that, you still have memories of her and probably a picture or two."

Eileen looked at Rigby somberly, locking eye contact. "You're right, Rigby. I shouldn't be moping around. And now that I think about it... I have a charm necklace!" Eileen cried out. Her mind had just happened to wonder upon the old accessory, coated in all sorts of plastic little trinkets.

"Really?" By now, Rigby had stopped picking at the thread of his strings and was sharing the excitement that his friend was letting off.

"Yeah! Margaret gave one to me in high school, and kept a matching one for herself, so they're kind of like friendship necklaces, in a way," Eileen explained. "I don't think she still has hers, though."

Rigby's hand slipped into his hoodie. Pulling out, he revealed a glossy black cell-phone, and slid it across the table. Eileen caught it, then gazed at him in astonishment.

"Why don't you ask her?" he said.

A/N: believe it or not, THIS STORY IS NOT DEAD! just haven't had the motivation to write for a while, but hopefully i'll start updating regularly as soon as summer comes! i'm still very much into regular show and pumped for the eileen episode this monday!

enjoy this small update for now, more to come shortly! :