Chapter Text
Vriska Serket was in deep shit.
At 22 years old, Vriska was a dual major in chemistry and physics. Her penchant for disaster and destruction as well as her fascination with the end of the world made her a fabulous and innovative student, though at the cost of causing conflict and chaos wherever she went. One little extra credit project had destroyed Eridan Ampora’s apartment, and almost taken Equius Zahack’s with it. Disaster even followed her to Harley’s Diner, the infamous hangover-curing eatery just off campus where Vriska waited tables. Coffee pots were shattered, meals were spit in, and screaming matches were had. Until now, that hadn’t mattered. The tiny family-owned diner, where everyone ate at from 10 pm to morning, had kept her on to clean up after messy parties and kick out drunken minors before the cops showed up for breakfast. None of the other waitresses were willing to do the jobs Vriska did on the graveyard shift. Also, no one else would be caught dead applying for a job there, so it wasn’t as if anyone could replace her if she lost her head and threatened a customer or threw a coffee mug against the wall. That had all changed two weeks ago. Old Mr. Harley, a firecracker if there ever was one, had been accidentally shot and would be spending the rest of his days in a nursing home, bemoaning his aching hip. The diner was changing hands, and the new management wasn’t a fan of Vriska’s “go fuck yourself” attitude or her methods for drunk removal. They fired her before they even saw her in action, having heard the stories of her impressive endeavors.
All of this lead up to one Miss Serket losing of her only source of income. She lived in a tiny off-campus apartment with no roommate to split the bill. Technically, she could call her mother. Incredibly wealthy and somewhat predatory in nature, Vriska’s mother could afford to pay her daughter’s bills just as easily as she paid tuition. However, asking Momma involved swallowing several gallons of pride, since Vriska had told her mother that she was “not some 8itch 8a8y” and she could “totaaaaaaaally 8e a grownup and pay her own 8ills or wh8tever.” Being a grownup did not involve calling your momma every time there’s a small hangup. Besides that, it felt safer to avoid being linked with her mother’s dubious income. So Vriska sold her TV for a month’s rent money and had been on the job hunt since. So far, she had heard back from none of her would-be employers.
This was about to change.
A generic ringtone sang muffled notes out of Vriska’s pocket, signifying an unknown caller. She tapped the call button and put the phone to her ear. “Hello?” she asked brusquely.
“Hi, is this Vriska Secret?” an irritable voice crackled through the speakers, a bit too loud for polite phone conversation. Vriska cringed, both from the butchery of her name and the loud voice destroying her eardrums.
“Serket,” she replied automatically, unable to keep herself from snapping. “May I ask who’s calling?”
“I’m calling from Suburban Grub Pizza and Eatery on South Main. I need you to come in for an interview. You /did/ apply for a job with us, didn’t you?” the cranky voice on the other end, still grating, seemed to be trying to suppress hostility. The speaker was failing. But this was it! The opportunity Vriska had been waiting for! Finally, a job. Sure, it was just a greasy family-owned pizza joint just off campus, but money was money.
Vriska’s tone became suddenly polite and professional. “Yes, I did. When would be the most optimal time for me to come in and speak with you?”
Cranky Pizza Voice was silent for a moment, aside from the sound of papers being shuffled frantically. “I’ll see you at 2 pm tomorrow. That good enough?”
“Of course. It’s been a pleasure speaking with you,” Vriska answered, still in her best kiss-ass tone. Shouty Pizza Voice didn’t answer. There was a click, and soon all Vriska could hear was a dial tone ringing faintly in her ear.
Vriska wasn’t nervous. She was the best at everything. She was the best physicist, best chemist, and she’d been the best damn waitress Harley’s Diner had ever seen. What did she have to be nervous about? Shouty Pizza Voice was obvioooouuuusly going to love her and hire her on site. So why did her hands shake as she pushed open the door of the pizza shop the following afternoon?
The clearly harried manager, who she had immediately recognized as Shouty Pizza Voice from yesterday, met her at the counter with a sullen-sounding hello. He was a short, slouchy guy around Vriska’s age with heavy shadows under his eyes and very Italian features. Judging by his resemblance to the photos of the founder and his family that decorated the shop’s walls, Vriska thought it safe to assume that he was the owner’s son, or maybe his grandson. She was ushered into a small back room and the Shouty Pizza Manager offered her a folding chair before sitting behind a desk stacked high with paperwork and paper plates. He shuffled some files and pulled out Vriska’s application. “So,” he said irritably. “You worked at Harley’s for three years…did you do anything before that?”
Vriska fought back a sigh. Her lack of real, taxable job experience was what had kept her from having a job before she’d been mercifully hired at Harley’s. “I worked at a gun club. Picked up unshattered clay pigeons and stacked them in boxes to be re-shot. A penny a disk. It was under the table, obviously, but if you call the club they’ll recognize my name.”
Shouty Pizza Manager, whose nameplate said “KARKAT” on it in scratched letters, sighed hard and loud. Vriska found herself wondering whether it was a surname or just unfortunate. Those capital letters paired with Shouty’s inability to speak at conversational levels made it impossible for her not to yell his name in her head. “You disclosed a disability on your application as well. I'd like to ask you to elaborate on that. We don’t discriminate of course. I'd like to know if there are any accomodations you would need to complete standard kitchen tasks?” KARKAT’s gaze searched her boldly, seeking some kind of obviously lacking limb.
“The majority of my left arm is ceramic and titanium, and I’m legally blind in my left eye. Nothing to hold me back from my ‘kitchen duties.’” Vriska was barely able to resist putting air-quotes around the phrase with her fingers. The manager glared at her, but that seemed to be his usual expression.
“Your availability still 5 evenings a week?” Vriska nodded at him silently, trying to avoid her inevitable sarcasm slipping out and ruining her chances. Apparently this effort paid off, because the next thing KARKAT said, after shuffling around some papers on his disastrous desk, was “You’re the only applicant who’s even remotely qualified for the job and has substantial availability. I don’t like hiring on the spot, but it looks like you’ve got yourself a job.”
Vriska grinned and fought the urge to punch the air. KARKAT, who looked no older than her aside from heavy shadows under his eyes, lobbed a balled up tee shirt at her. “Work uniform,” he told her gruffly. “Wear some kind of black pants with it. I don’t care what, this isn’t an office. You’ll be training under Terezi. Best pizza maker I’ve ever met.” Vriska swore she saw a blush below his sleepy shadows, if only momentarily. “Weird as all hell though. Your first shift is tomorrow at 6.”
“Yes sir, fearless leader!” Vriska said enthusiastically, with only a touch of sarcasm.
KARKAT stared at her for a second, then barked “Get out of my office!” Startled, Vriska barely kept from jumping, before turning and heading out the door. She heard him call after her “Make sure you have that hair pulled back when you come in!” as she hurried to her car.
Later that evening, when Vriska was home and had made a cursory attempt at straightening her room, she phoned Kanaya. Both ex-girlfriend and current best friend, Kanaya was taking classes at a school in their hometown, roughly half an hour away. She and Vriska texted regularly, and evening phone calls were fairly regular. However, Vriska was generally too irresponsible to remember to call first, so it was with some surprise that Kanaya answered the call on the first ring.
“What Happened? Is Anyone Dead? Should I order takeout?” Kanaya asked, her tone calm and even but her pace a bit quicker than the norm.
“Wow fussypants, may8e I shouldn’t tell you the good news. You’re 8eing verrrrrrry 8itchy tonight,” Vriska snarked, holding the phone with her good shoulder while mixing her last packet of ramen into some boiling water and trying not to think about takeout.
“Good News?” Kanaya asked. Vriska could hear the indulgent smile in her friend’s voice from across the line. It was this tone that made Vriska feel as though she was being humored, treated like an adult to avoid meltdowns more than out of respect for her adulthood. She tried to ignore it.
“Yes!!!!!!!! I’ll 8e working at a pizza place off campus starting tomorrow. I’m gonna 8e the 8est pizza maker in the whole world. Look out world, Vriska Serket, pizza pir8 will 8e making her de8ut tomorrow at 6 pm!”
“Congratulations Vriska! I Am Very Proud Of You. Perhaps This Weekend When I Visit We Can Celebrate Your Newly Achieved Employment Status With Alcoholic Beverages And Celebratory Chinese Food?”
“Sounds 8adass to me. You gonna 8e here Friday night or are you coming Saturday?”
Kanaya hesitated. “That Depends On Your Feelings…Would It Be Improper For Me To Bring Along A Young Lady?”
Vriska gasped dramatically. “8ring a woman? Into my house? Oh the horror!” She laughed. “8ring your lovely lady along, fussy8itch, I don’t mind. Would this 8e the infamous Miss Lalonde, 8y any chance?”
“It…It Could Possibly Be Rose, Yes. If You Are Sure That Would Be Acceptable To You.”
“Of course you can 8ring her along! I’ve 8een asking to meet her for aaaaaaaages!”
“I Know You Have Vriska, But Until Recently We Were Not Officially Courting. And Aside From That, I Felt That A Meeting Between My Former Lover And My Future Lover Would Be Uncomfortable For All In Attendance, Myself In Particular. However, After Immense Pressure From Both You And Rose, I Have Decided It Is Time For The Two Of You To Become Acquainted.”
Vriska snorted ungracefully. “Well it’s a8out damn time. You’ve kept us 8oth in suspense for too long. Anyway, I’d 8etter go, I can’t safely eat these noodles while I’m on the phone with you. Text me.” She hung up before Kanaya could utter any more maternal musings, possibly on Vriska’s nutrition, table manners, or inability to multitask.