Chapter Text
My name is Josie Peg, and I have superpowers. At least, I thought it was a superpower, or some kind of unconscious magic. Nevertheless, it’s an ability that I can’t explain, but I can miraculously do. For about a year now, I figured out that I was… very persuasive to people and could make them do basically whatever I wanted. Particularly men, but the occasional woman fell under my spell too. What is “my spell” exactly? Well…
I leaned over the man’s shoulder, placing my chin right beside his head and whispering in his ear. He was only a little older than me, so passerbyers would probably think I was just his girlfriend. Wrong. I had never seen the man before twenty minutes ago. But when I see men get that look in their eyes, all I’ve got to do is shake my hips and I’ve got them under my spell.
“Just pull out a couple hundred…” I purred. “Just for me, baby…”
“Heh… Of course…” he stupidly bumbled, making the withdrawal from the ATM.
“You know… I think I’ll need an extra $150.”
“You…” Just for a second, he frowned and squinted his eyes. “You need…”
“You know I need it,” I insisted, pressing my body against his back. He got me the extra money almost immediately, and I couldn’t help but smirk as I pocketed the cash. I turned to face him and gave the man a kiss right on the lips before patting his head. “Now honey, you’re gonna go home, lay down, black out, and forget about all of this, alright? You won’t even remember my shape.”
“Y-Yes, ma’am…”
I watched the idiot stumble down the street, bumping into people and getting weird looks while I chuckled. There I was, a thief, walking away from the crime scene. Though, technically I hadn’t stolen anything. I just asked a man to withdraw his money for me and he did. I didn’t even threaten him. Though, saying I wasn’t a thief was a pretty tight technicality, since I was pretty sure he didn’t have a choice either. I could only imagine what my mother would say about how far her little catholic daughter has fallen in this world.
Like I said, my name is Josie Peg, but I just go by Peg. Why? Because I never felt like Josie suited who I was as a woman. It’s hard to explain, but what matters is that I go by Peg. Only my mother gets to call me Josie. Everyone else gets an angry scowl.
Anywho, I skipped my way home, counting the bills in my purse as I thought about the two things it’d go towards: food and rent. Even with my apartment building being owned by the Joestar Real Estate Co. and their infinite mission towards providing affordable housing, rent in New York City is still rent in New York City. AKA, not cheap. Personally, I think if they wanted to provide affordable housing, they’d just let me live in it for free, but that’s neither here nor there.
I slinked into my apartment, tossing my purse down and falling face-first into my bed. My apartment had exactly two rooms: the bathroom and everywhere else. I’m in the bedroom (that doubles as the living room) one second, then if I walk about four feet to the left I’m in the kitchen. Honestly, I don’t mind such a cramped space; I’d rather have a small place with everything I need than a mansion full of a bunch of empty air.
Per usual, the first thing I did was look at myself in my full body mirror right next to my bed. Same blonde hair, same loose white tank top, same jeans, same awesome leather jacket. I picked it up at a thrift shop this one time and love it. I’m pretty sure it’s the same kind of jacket those pilots wear in the movies, and I’ve plastered patches all over the thing. I haven’t used all the space yet, but I dream about it.
Glancing over at the coat rack, I could see my familiar green apron gently waving under the influence of the air vent. Working at a coffee shop was really, really tiring, which you think wouldn’t be the case since we literally serve drinks that make you feel more awake. Well unfortunately, 8 hours of smelling coffee actually gives me a massive headache. Hell, I don’t even like coffee that much. But a job’s a job, and I can’t make my living convincing men to empty their bank accounts for me. I’d probably get caught that way, and it would kinda start to weigh more on my conscience.
I used to want to be an actress, actually. Come to New York while I was young and get my big break and all. That was the teenage dream. Well, after two years I ended up dropping out of college, just like my mom said I would. And I wasn’t about to get acting gigs when my recommendations would just tell about my shitty work ethic. To be fair, I could’ve moved back home, but I wasn’t going to be an Arizona ranch hand… So dead end job in the city it is. At least I have internet.
“God, I just wanna fucking sleep all day,” I sighed, turning over onto my stomach. That’s when in the corner of my eye, I spotted something blow across the room. I extended my leg out and managed to catch a piece of paper flying through the air with my toes. “What the…?”
It was just a receipt for a box of twinkies and three bags of salt and vinegar chips, which yeah I remember. The question was why it was just blowing across the room though. I looked around to see if I had left a fan on or something until I found the culprit.
“That fucking window…” I grumbled, hopping to my feet and moving over to the open window leading to the fire escape. “I could’ve sworn I had closed it before I left…”
I poked my head out but only found a black and white striped cat sitting peacefully on the railing. I just gave it a little pat on the head before ducking back in and locking the seal this time. The last thing I needed was some asshole breaking into my place and stealing something. Maybe a little ironic since I technically steal from others, I know. But nobody can say that being stolen from isn’t annoying as hell.
* * * * *
“Can I get uh… A caramel mocha?”
“What size, ma’am?” I sighed.
“Umm… What size is your medium?”
“16 oz.”
“Hm… What about your large?”
“20 oz.”
“I think… How many ounces is your small?”
“12 oz.”
“Cool, cool… Is your extra small 8 oz?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I think I’ll take a medium.”
“Name?”
“Martha.”
It took all of my patience and willpower to not write “fuckface” on that cup. My patience was being tested, let me tell you. All that annoying shit and she didn’t even leave a tip. If I had it my way, I’d hunt down every annoying as hell customer and beat a tip out of them. Is that too violent though? Probably. Just once, I’d like to physically vent out my anger though. Maybe I can save up for one of those places where they just give you a baseball bat to destroy a bunch of shit…
The next customer was a stout man in a sharp business suit who wasted no time leaning on the counter like he owned the place and giving me that look. If you’ve worked in a store, restaurant, or just retail anywhere, you know what look I’m talking about. The one that lets you know that the customer clearly thinks you’re a variant of sub-human who lives to serve. I’d love to beat the shit out of one of them and see how high and mighty they feel on the ground in a puddle of blood…
“Excuse me,” the man snapped. “A large coffee with cream and two spoons of sugar.”
“Name, sir?”
“Morgan. And please be fast please, I’m in a rush.”
“Alright sir, just pay right there,” I sighed. Time to do the real work. I cleared my throat, batted my eyelashes, and raised the pitch of my voice just a bit. “Would you like to leave a tip?”
“Hmph, tip…” he grumbled as soon as the option came up. It was now or never.
“Yes, sir,” I purred, probably looking weird as hell, but I was going to work for that extra cash dammit. “A 20% tip, maybe?”
“Twenty… percent…” His hazy gaze started to clear up as a frown stretched across his face.
“Or maybe just a 15%?”
“Hm… yeah…” he nodded, tapping the screen and paying up. Hell fucking yeah. As soon as he finished, the man blinked hard and looked around in confusion. “Huh?”
“Thank you, sir,” I chirped with a wide, peppy grin on my face. “Just wait over there and I’ll get your coffee out as soon as possible!”
“Hmph, yeah, yeah…” he mumbled, going back to staring at his phone.
* * * * *
At around 3 in the afternoon, there was this woman who walked into the coffee shop, and just her whole demeanor… It was hard to describe, but something about her was off. Like when you can tell that a person walks into a room with malicious intent. The woman was also panting, hiding her eyes behind a pair of dark sunglasses.
“Yo, Peggy,” she waved.
“Huh?” That caught me off guard. I looked down at my name tag just to verify it still said Peg. “Do… I know you?”
“Nah, I don’t have friends,” the woman shook her head. “If you wanna be mine though, you can get me a large black coffee.”
“Sure,” I nodded, grabbing a cup and marker. “Name?”
“Shizu.”
“You can pay when you’re ready,” I prompted, turning the screen round. “Would you like to leave a tip? Maybe… a 10% one?”
“Huh?” The woman cocked her head to the side while taking a step back. I guess I had been too forward with that one. Even my charm has its limits.
“Just pay when you’re ready.”
We exchanged some glances as she paid up and I prepared her coffee. The hoodie she was wearing was so large that it almost covered her jean shorts. I mean, I get the aesthetic, but it was the middle of summer! There was no way that woman wasn’t burning up.
When I finished the coffee, I put it on the counter and scanned around the small shop for the woman. Apparently in the millisecond I had taken my eyes off her, the woman had straight up vanished. It pissed me off so much when customers decided to leave and come back when it takes like a minute or two to prepare their drink.
“Gimme a break… I freaking hate these people…”
“Yo, bosswoman,” said a voice from the bathroom door. It was that woman, Shizu. Had she gone without me realizing it? But I hadn’t even heard the toilet flush… “Is that coffee ready?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I nodded, holding it out to her. “Have a great day.”
“I plan on it,” she smirked, flashing a peace sign before walking out. What a strange ass woman.
Before she made it out of the shop though, the woman snickered to herself and pulled three cookies out of her pocket and looked at me with those shaded eyes. I gasped and looked at our display, where exactly three cookies were missing from the display. Before I could say anything though, the woman was gone and completely out of sight.
“Something about that woman… Shizu…” I mumbled to myself.
“Hey, Peg, something wrong?” my coworker asked, coming out of the other bathroom. I just shook my head and sighed.
“I think my brain’s just being weird. Probably nothing.”
* * * * *
As my day ended and I walked back into my apartment with a bag of chicken tenders and fries in hand I contemplated quitting my job for the fourth time that week. Ultimately, they always ended with me coming to terms with the coffee shop being all I had, but damn if I couldn’t give anything to move up somewhere else in life.
I put the bag down on the counter and hung up my apron, walking into the bathroom in preparation for the elating shower I was about to take. A good shower can take away a mountain of stress, shoulders stiffer than boulders, and will make me stop smelling like a coffee-infused sweaty locker room. I couldn’t stand having to smell myself by the end of the day.
“Alright… Time to get this shit off of me,” I yawned, tossing off my uniform while turning the shower on, watching the steam billow out from the curtains.
The shower was a time for me to just clear my mind and imagine what my life would be like if I had money, friends, and didn’t live in an apartment with apparently faulty window locks. Oh, I’d buy some designer clothes… Wear a pair of those super shiny and pointed heels, like the king that could stab through marble. And I’d live in a much nicer apartment with just a bit more space and a nice view of the city from super high above… And-
My thoughts paused as a subtle noise got caught in my ears: crinkling. I leaned out of the shower and looked around, but couldn’t see much. I know for a fact that I locked my door, and the window would still be shut tight… Probably nothing. Just before I could go back to my slice of heaven though, I noticed it. Subtle, small, gentle, but very present breath in the air, made visible from the lava level heat in my shower.
I retracted myself behind the curtain and grabbed my shampoo bottle. Whatever was there was standing in the bathroom doorway, so I could nail them for sure without a problem. I just had to jump out and take aim, then…
“ Eat shit! ” I howled, leaping out of the shower and hurling my extra large shampoo bottle at the door, hitting something that produced a yelp. Sounded like a woman for sure.
The carpet thudded behind the door, and I could see this little indent in the ground that scurried off to my bed. In a flash, I grabbed my bathrobe and hairbrush, arming myself for emergency combat. I looked around the room again though, and… nothing. Not a soul in my room, but the window was still shut and the door hadn’t opened. I would’ve heard one of them squeak.
“Show yourself, dammit!” I growled, whirling my head around, making my hair whip every which way. “If you come out now, I’ll only beat a little of the shit out of you!”
“I just… need a place to crash… for the night…”
Slowly, a figure emerged out from under my bed, her face and clothes covered in small, bloody cuts. The way she became visible… It’s like her body slowly rippled into existence after rippling out of sight. Even more surprising though, it was that woman with the sunglasses from earlier: Shizu.
“W-Who are you?!” I hissed, gripping my hairbrush tighter. “Why’re you bleeding?! How’d you get in my house?! Why’re you here?!”
“My name is… is Shizuka Joestar. And I’m running… from a stand user…”