Chapter Text
There’s a man covered in blood in the snack aisle.
Well. Hold on.
The statement by itself is vague due to the fact that snack aisles are common in most types of shops, especially a convenience store such as this one. Not to mention that there are multiple snack aisles in a convenience store, so saying that the snack aisle is in a convenience store makes the statement even more unspecific. Saying that someone’s standing in the snack aisle of a convenience store is like saying that someone’s standing next to a row of corn in a corn maze. The context is provided, the setting is appropriate, but the lack of specification makes you want to grab the story teller’s shoulders and shake them really hard if you’re looking to track a person’s exact location. So, in order to paint the entire scene as to correctly inform the viewer on what is taking place, it’s necessary to specify that there’s a guy covered in blood in the aisle where the packs of candy and off-brand chips are kept.
The guy covered in blood walks up to the cashier’s counter and tosses down half a dozen BBQ flavored Lay’s chip bags that he’s pulled out of his jacket pockets, because that’s the most convenient way to carry bags of chips, apparently. Maybe the way in which he chooses to carry his chips should be the least of Shen Yuan’s concern, but it’s 3 am and the systems of the human brain that usually assess fight or flight situations have abandoned him. And he’s just now cueing into the fact that he’s been staring at the guy’s hands for the past God knows how long which may be enough of a reason for the guy to strangle him if he’s the type of person who thinks he can get away with dumping a body in a river and calling it good, which the dark red coat of blood running up his palm and fingers kinda indicates. It turns out the guy either doesn't notice the staring or doesn't care, because he just pulls out a fistful of bills from his pocket and starts counting cash without so much as a glance past the counter.
Things Shen Yuan knows about the guy standing in front of him:
1. He’s young. He can’t be older than 25, unless he’s a supernatural being and/ or the polar opposite of a drug user. His smooth tan skin is blemished only by the dark rings around his eyes, which are so pronounced that they almost seem like the result of makeup.
2. He’s wearing an old, ratty denim jacket over a black v-neck t-shirt. The denim jacket’s sleeves are stained with red splotches up until his elbows, and the shirt is stained darker in some places than others. The exposed skin on his hands and wrists are coated in flaking layers of dark red, and he’s standing close enough to Shen Yuan that it’s clear that his nails are stained black along the tips. He smells like copper.
3. He has unruly long dark hair that’s tied up with what appears to be… yep. That’s a bright green twist tie. The kind that wraps around plastic bags to keep them closed. It looks like someone cut the edges of his hair with dull scissors, because the curls are all chopped off in uneven sections. The bangs framing his forehead are a disaster beyond repair.
4. He doesn’t own a wallet, he just keeps loose cash in his jeans. And it’s safe to assume that’s where he keeps all of his money, because that was a lot of one dollar bills he just pulled out of the front pocket. If he pulls out coins from another pocket, Shen Yuan may break into a cold sweat at the pure wrongness of the dynamic.
Shen Yuan’s observed these four things within the span of three minutes about the man who’s currently counting out cash to buy a small haul of potato chips at 3 am in the 21st street’s corner store, and he’s pretty sure he could write a college standard senior thesis on the life this man is living.
Don’t mark Shen Yuan as an inexperienced convenience store employee; this guy isn’t the first weird person he’s observed during his night shift. Ungodly hours of the night combined with the constant buzzing of oversaturated white fluorescent lights accompanied only by the faint serenading of pop music can bring out the most serial killer esque side of anyone. Some people understand that making small talk with a night shift employee should be illegal, while others think that you’re a gatekeeper to some greater knowledge if they keep barrading you with trivia questions. Others are just straight up high and also assholes. He’s been hit on by many a non-sober man and woman in his days of service, which is an experience he’ll leave for only the security cameras the managers don’t check to retell. Abnormal behavior is the standard for night shift customers.
But most of the people that come into convenience stores aren’t covered in what Shen Yuan is trying to convince himself could be red paint, if he squints for long enough. Should he… call the police? Arm himself with the nearby stapler in case the guy tries anything? Pull out his phone and pretend like he’s too engrossed in a twitter debate to notice anything?
“Are you okay?”
Ah, fuck. Ah, shit. There’s also option D- jump off of a bridge, nosedive into the shallow river beneath, and hope for the best.
The guy freezes while his right hand is shoving cash back into his pocket and his left hand is gripping a stack of ones. His eyes are fixated stubbornly on a spot on the counter, but Shen Yuan sees them widen a bit through the space between his bangs. Neither of them move for what seems like an eternity.
“Um, if you’re hurt I have- I mean, there’s a first aid box underneath the counter if you need it. It won’t cost anything either, since it’s for emergencies and such. This technically counts as an emergency- not that you’re like, stabbed or anything, aha, so it isn’t any bother if you do need it. Plus we’ve never had any real emergencies, and it’s about time we used the thing. So-“
Shen Yuan is rambling mindlessly in hopes that he won’t get shot, at this point. The guy still hasn’t moved and is still refusing to look up at him, but he does remove his hand from his pocket and sets the cash on the edge of the counter. By the time Shen Yuan stops talking, he’s sliding change over the counter to the stranger because there’s no way in hell he’s reaching his arm out to the guy with his bare hands after he just ran his big mouth.
Mystery man takes the change (he does have a separate pocket for coins, holy shit) and scoops the bags of chips into his arms. Then he finally looks up from the counter.
They maintain uncomfortable eye contact for a good five seconds and Shen Yuan can feel the skin melting off of his face. Then the man turns away and speed walks out of the room, slamming against the glass door with his body to slip out into the dark of the night.
Huh.
It's a good thing you never meet the same person twice at a convenience store.