a/n: this first chapter is mega short and also unedited, but I care not! enjoy the read!

inspired by "Calling All The Mobsters" by fist-it-out

Part I: Slowly, Then All At Once

Five eighteen in the morning. Too early for most people to be awake, but too late for Addison to be waking up, considering she needed to be at work by five forty five to open Dezzy's Delicious Diner. She must have snoozed her alarm in her sleep. Or her sound was too low. Or she was just stupid and work up, turned it off, and went right back to sleep,

Whatever the case may be, she's late. She scurries out of bed, barely having time to brush her teeth and grab a bagel before running out of her apartment. Her burgundy polo isn't buttoned, her hair barely even brushed, but both those problems can be fixed in her car.

She runs out of the front doors, about to race across the gravelly parking lot, when her phone buzzes in her hand. She glances at it, groaning at the red alert that popped up, reminding her to grab her mail and pay her bills on time. Of course the one day she oversleeps also happens to be the day she needs to spend an extra hour going over her bills.

She quickly detours to the mail room, fishing out her key and grabbing the stack of bills building management so graciously stuffed in there that morning. She throws the envelopes in her already messy purse, slamming her mailbox shut and running out again.

It's five twenty-nine now, and if she hits only green lights and takes several back roads and speeds a little, she should make it. She just needs to leave immediately, which means she can't wait for her car to cool down from the early morning August heat. She just needs to leave.

Addison hits the push start, and the engine spurts, but doesn't come to life. She tries again, holding it a little longer, but again it sputters and eventually dies out. "No no no," she mutters. The one day she oversleeps, her car dies! "This cannot be happening!"

She screams in frustration, wanting to cry and punch the horn. A quick glance at her phone tells her she has less than fifteen minutes to get to work. At least on time. She grabs her purse and her keys and runs. Maybe she'll run all the way to work, or hitchhike. Something!

She runs for about five minutes, five long, terrible minutes, when she hits a bus stop with a bus coincidentally pulling into it. She's only ever ridden the bus during her three and a half semester in college, but she knows she can hopefully get a ride. She runs up the steps, frantically asking, "Please tell me you're going by Royal Gardens Plaza within the next like, ten minutes?"

"Should be in five stops," the early morning bus driver replies, like the godsend she is. "It'll be a dollar fifty."

"Oh my god, thank you." Addison fishes out her wallet, pulling out her emergency five dollar bill and handing it over. She doesn't wait for her change.

The bus may be empty, but she's too anxious to actually sit, holding onto the handle as it pulls off into the road. It's early enough that the roads are mostly empty, though that doesn't mean anything to the automated traffic lights.

Still, the bus stops outside of Royal Gardens two minutes before her shift starts, and Addison sprints across the plaza. She has to run around the back, knowing the front door is locked, getting inside of the diner through the employee entrance.

She clocks in on time, but just barely. She's sweaty, out of breath, down right exhausted, and looks an absolute horror. But she's not late.

She's already been late once, when her mother was in a car accident a few months ago and demanded Addison drive an half an hour to downtown Seabrook to pick her up and an hour back to the suburbs. All at four in the morning. What her mother was doing driving around and getting into accidents so early, Addison still doesn't know.

What she does know is she can only be late twice, otherwise the third time she'll get an official write up. She's never been written up in her life! In elementary school she mostly cried her way out of official punishment, and in middle and high school she flew so far under the radar most people didn't know she was there. She absolutely refuses to get written up.

One of her coworkers, Wyatt, walks into the backroom. He takes her in with a raised eyebrow, watching her pant as she leans back against the wall, utterly exhausted. "Damn, Adds, rough morning?"

She rolls her eyes. "Water, please," she says between breaths.

"So needy," he teases. But, he walks over to the fridge, pulling out one of the spare water bottles Eliza so gracious leaves for them. He walks it back to her, popping the cap off. Addison chugs half of the bottle in only a few seconds. Honestly record time.

"Did you run here or something?"

She nods. She takes a final sip, feeling much more refreshed. "My car died."

Wyatt winces.

"I ran, rode the bus, and ran some more." She finishes off her water bottle. "Do you think Eliza has a brush I could borrow?"

"Eliza's not coming in 'til noon."

"Shit," she groans.

Her fingers will have to do for today, seeing as she hadn't thought to grab her brush from her car before leaving. She honestly can't even remember if she's locked it, which wouldn't be too concerning since the engine is dead so no one can steal it. But, there's also been a lot of weird gang activity in the greater Seabrook Metropolitan area. She thinks her building might honestly fall in the center of a turf war, but she barely has time to breathe, let alone figure out what weird gang shit is happening around her.

She pushes off the wall, going and dumping her purse in an empty cubby. Eliza will get on her ass about not using the lockers, but Addison can't find it in herself to care. She searches it until she finds a red scrunchie, much brighter but still matching her uniform shirt.

"Do you have a brush?" she asks Wyatt.

"No, I'm growing out my hair and I don't carry a brush with me." He scoffs, moving to his locker. "You want a ride home later?"

He tosses her a brush. "Yes, please. I don't want to take the bus again."

"Yeah, that's nasty, Blondie."

She sticks her tongue out at him. He laughs, closing the locker and heading to the door. "I'm gonna go start baking, make yourself cute so we get tips!"

"I hate you!"

Dezzy's Delicious Diner opens at six in the morning on weekdays and eight in the morning on weekends. The diner itself isn't super well known, but anyone who's been in Seabrook for at least the past ten years knows of its secrets. The morning rush doesn't usually require more than two people, and only lasts until about ten, when most people are finally settled into their day jobs.

For some reason, on the random Thursday that Addison's life already decides to be messy, the morning rush feels more like the actual lunch rush, with more customers than she and Wyatt can handle. He's cooking and preparing all the food and drinks, while Addison takes and delivers all the orders, all while managing to remain nice and friendly to get what little tips the angry morning people are willing to give her.

The diner calms down around eleven, thankfully. Everyone getting coffee and bagels has come and gone, just in time for the brunch crowd to arrive. It's mostly seniors from the nearby high school getting lunch, or tourists who found the 'secret gem of the northeast,' looking to discover more places. Not as bad as the morning crowd.

Plus, Wyatt's sister, Willa, has arrived for her shift. She only works part time, as opposed to Addison and Wyatt's full time shifts. She's a graduate finance student, with another job working under some big financial advisor in the city. How she managed to land a job like that, Addison doesn't know.

Willa hangs around the back, cooking with her brother. Occasionally, she comes out front to run orders when Addison gets a little too slammed. The three of them have a good flow.

The brunch crowd gets their food and settles into the tables and booths around the diner. Addison starts mentally preparing for when she'll inevitably have to go and buss tables. Or maybe she can get Willa to do it. Or wait long enough for one of the afternoon part-timers to come. Which would be cruel, but also she hasn't had a break in the five and a half hours she's been working, so she can only partially find it in herself to care.

After spending all morning on her feet, an ice cold water, maybe a sandwich too, and pushing off her responsibilities to the part-timer sounds better than a dream. Her stomach growls at the thought of food, the half a bagel she managed to scarf down on her way out that morning clearly not enough for the hours she's spent working.

The bell above the door rings. Addison holds in a groan, putting on her perkiest smile. She may be exhausted, but she badly needs tips, especially with the impending cost of fixing her car. She looks up and—holy shit. Her heart skips a beat at the sight of possibly the sexiest man she's ever seen.

Tall, in a dark blue suit that probably costs more than everything she's ever bought in her entire life, that fits his lean and fit body so well she thinks her mouth actually waters. His green hair swoops over his head, a little falling in his face. He's got designer blacked-out shades covering probably the prettiest eyes in the world (if the rest of him is any hint). The jawline and the tan and god, the way his muscles move under his suit.

She swoons, and rightfully so. Wyatt is probably the most attractive man she's met in her adult life, which isn't saying much because he's…well him. She also only spent a little under two years actually out in the world, at college, before dropping out and picking up this job that takes up most of her life. Maybe it's because she doesn't get around much, or maybe because it's Wyatt. Either way, mystery man in the suit is hot as flying fuck.

The man walks up to the counter and takes off his sunglasses, revealing the prettiest brown eyes Addison has ever actually seen. And his smile, god, his smile. She can't even describe it. But he's smiling at her!

"Hi," he greets. Even his voice is attractive!

"Hi," she practically sighs. He chuckles, a sound that's both lovely and grounding, reminding her that she verbally swooned at him, at work. She blinks, snapping herself back to the reality that yeah, he's hot, but she's supposed to be professional. And also she looks a mess today, thanks to oversleeping and overworking. "Um, hi! W-welcome to Dezzy's Delicious Diner. How can I help you?"

"Can I get two black coffees, and…" He trails off, looking up at the menu. Addison watches the way he chews his lip thoughtfully, his gorgeous brown eyes scanning the menu. "A tuna melt and a BLT."

Addison nods, punching it into the register. "Will that be all?"

He smiles sweetly, a stupid, boyish grin that sends butterflies through her stomach and heat up her neck. "Yeah."

"For here or to-go?" She keeps her eyes on the screen of her register. If she looks at him again, she knows she'll turn into a stuttering mess.

"Here."

Addison nods. "Can I have a name for your order?"

"Zed."

Her eyes flicker to his face for the briefest of seconds. He's still smiling, charmingly leaning against the counter without a care in the world.

She clears her throat, turning her attention back to the register. "It'll be twenty-five-oh-eight. Will you be paying cash or card?"

"Card."

She shyly looks up, watching as he pulls a platinum card from his wallet. Never mind how much of a mess she currently is. There's no way a man as attractive as him can't get anyone he wants, especially considering how wealthy he looks. The name on his flashy silver watch isn't even something she can recognize! No way a girl like her would ever have a shot with a guy like him.

The machine spits out his receipt, which she wordlessly hands over to him. "Thank you," he says, charming as ever.

She offers a smile that comes off more somber than intended. She says, "Have a nice day," watching as he heads to the other end of the counter to wait for his food.