Chapter Text
"Ugh.." Golf Ball groaned, holding her head in her hands.
She was supposed to be good at this, but whether it was from sleep deprivation or the ungodly amount of coffee she drinks every day, the machine wouldn't work. It would just spark and then smoke; she would then promptly turn it off, so as not to set her living space on fire.
It was around one in the morning, and she was exhausted, but she really wanted to figure out what was wrong with this thing.
Eventually, she just fell asleep at her desk.
----
Today was Golf Ball's day off, but even so, she still had work to do. So she went to her preferred place of work, the corner table of a So-Ha Cafe.
"Bye, PB. I'm heading to So-Ha," She informed her friend as she gathered her things.
"Alright, I'm probably gonna be at Fries' place when you get back."
Golf Ball rolled her eyes. "You sure you are not dating the guy?"
Puffball looked at her friend, deadpan. "GB, I'd rather kiss the ground than him."
"Uh-huh, just let me know when I need to plan a wedding." She knew that Puffball wasn't dating Fries, let alone marrying him, but she couldn't help but tease her.
"Whatever, I gotta get going, Fries is texting."
"Alright, PB. I'll see you tonight," Golf Ball said as she opened the front door.
"See ya, girl."
---
Golf Ball started down the hallway of her apartment building. The carpet was a tacky shade of red with an equally tacky design, and the walls were a plain, popcorn-textured white. While she wasn't the princess of interior design, she knew a thing or two about it. Definitely a thing or two more than whoever designed this god forsaken building. Every time she looked at the carpet, she couldn't help but think how much better it would look if it were dark gray. No 'fun colors' and especially NO 'fun designs'.
Of course, she didn't hate fun. Golf Ball just didn't see the necessity for such designs. She often went for minimalist meets sad beige mom meets mad scientist.
A light flickered in front of her; even the lights were shitty.
Golf Ball clicked the call button on the elevator and waited for it to arrive on the fifth floor. She hoped that no one would be in there when it arrived. Golf Ball desperately wanted to avoid awkward small talk. Those hopes were squashed when the doors opened.
She stepped in beside those who were already inside the elevator and clicked the ground floor button.
"Hi, Golf Ball," waved one half of the couple standing next to her.
"Hello, Leafy," she murmured tiredly. Coffee was at the front of her mind right now, not small talk. She glanced back at the other half, "and Firey."
"Hey, GB," Firey waved.
Golf Ball hummed in acknowledgment, but kept her eyes trained solely on the door, silently willing it to open, and cursed out those who invented small talk.
"Um, how have you been?" Leafy, the girlfriend of the flame, spoke up.
"Can't complain," She replied monotonously. "You?" Golf Ball added with an eyebrow raise.
"I've been great!" The leaf answered enthusiastically.
"Good for you," The coffee-deprived girl snarked back.
Golf Ball thanked her lucky stars when the doors opened, thus providing her with an escape route from this conversation.
"See you later!" Leafy paused, "Maybe we can hang out sometime?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Goll Ball dismissed as the doors closed behind her.
Golf Ball walked through the bustling streets of Yoyle City, toying with the idea of hanging out with Leafy. Normally, such an idea would make her scoff and decline, but Puffball always said she needed more friends, so..
She took out her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she found Leafy's number, which was appropriately named 'Annoying Leaf'.
She sent out a text.
Well, no.
She tried to.
She had the text written out, and all she needed to do was press send, but she didn't want to. Not really.
Maybe she'd think about it later.
She deleted the text and put her phone back in her pocket.
--
Finally, she reached the cafe.
Inside, she'd find the regular sight of her favorite place. The walls were white, the floor wood, and the smell, oh, the smell, it was coffee and freshly baked bread and other baked goods.
She stepped up to the counter.
"The usual, Golf Ball?" The cashier asked.
"Yes," she replied.
"Alright, that'll be three dollars and ninety-nine cents."
The normalcy of the day was, well, normal. Her routine was simple. And that was how she liked it.
Too bad it'll be anything but normal soon.