Chapter Text
Summer jobs will be the absolute end of you. Working at a mediocre pizza place in a dirty, weird city was bad enough. But with all the odd chaos happening on the streets with the random missing persons and weird mutant sightings? you were worried for yourself and your friends.
You suppose the town isn't all bad, there were definitely some things you loved about New York, like your friends.
And yes, you have friends.
Not many.
But they're nice.
Anyway, where were we? Ah yes, pizza.
The place you worked at had absolute wet socks for employees. Ranging from incompetent cashiers to very toxic managers, the whole place had this 'I don't care just go away' vibe. You felt like the only sensible employee in the entire restaurant. Which is odd considering how non-sensible you were according to normal people. Honestly, you would probably be better off working somewhere that had 'normal people' for employees and you being the odd one out. But alas, no one else would hire you and you needed the cash. So, you endured the torturous work that is cashiering at a mediocre pizza place.
But it wasn’t all bad. Every other Thursday, your favorite customer comes in. He has this really curly hair held back by an orange bandana and this really odd brooch that never matched the rest if his outfit. He usually comes in with paint on his hands and stickers on his face, so you assumed he was liked being creative. He orders the same thing. One large pepperoni pizza, and one large half sausage and half cheese. He was so cute and talkative. Every other Thursday at 7:30 he'd run in waving with a big smile on his face. Sometimes he'd even come in with artwork to show off. You found him and his mannerisms quite charming. He made your job a bit more bearable.
Today was Thursday, and you were expecting a visit from the guy. You looked down at your phone screen, sighing impatiently as you saw the '7:30 PM' on the digital clock. He usually appears right about now, and you had just had a tough week and were really looking forward to seeing him. Just as you slumped over the counter, the door chime jingled.
You poked your head up and saw a very handsome boy walking towards the counter. He had shoulder length locs, these nerdy wired glasses and a purple bandana holding his hair out of his face. Paired with this purple hoodie that had the same brooch on it. You raised your eyebrow. Did he get sick and have to get someone else to get the pizza? Is he safe? Why does this guy in purple have his ugly brooch?
“Welcome in! Are you dining or to-go?” You discarded those thoughts for now and put on your best professional work voice.
“...uhh..” He looked down at his hand, which seemed to have writing on it.
“It's– uh, to-go. And it's one large pepperoni and one large half sausage, half cheese.” He read off his hand, looking back up at you like he was asking for approval.
“...Are you Mikey's brother?” You asked bluntly, disregarding his obvious need for approval.
He groaned. “Oh, my banana pancakes...” He muttered, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “Yes, the dumb-dumb is my brother. And I suppose you are the reason he offers to go get pizza from here every other week?”
Your entire face lit up with excitement. “He offers to go out into the dangerous street just to see me?!”
“Yes, and it's quite annoying.” He said bluntly, looking at his fingers that had black nail polish messily painted on. You frowned. “Okay, well what's your name? I uh, need it for the order.” You tried changing the subject, and he looked up from his phone.
“Othello.”
“Spelled O-T-H-E-L-L-O?”
“Correct.”
You wrote down the name and slid the paper to the cook, who was currently on his phone because of the lack of orders coming in on a Thursday evening. You cleared your throat and the cook rolled his eyes and grabbed the paper.
You turned your attention back to Othello, but he wasn't in front of the counter anymore. Instead, he had retreated to a corner of the restaurant. You frowned but kept your distance and just slumped over the counter.
When the pizzas finally came out, you called his name and wrote in sharpie which one was the pepperoni, and which one was half. He shuffled his way up to the counter and grabbed the pizzas.
“Othello, before you go, why didn’t Mikey come out today?” You asked, trying to be polite so as to not scare him off.
“Rat fl- sorry, He got sick. And I would’ve sent one of my other brothers, but Mikey insisted it be me.” He rambled.
Your brows furrowed there were more brothers? How many? What is this? How in the world can they afford pizza every other week? Why are all of these questions just coming to you right now?
“Any idea why he chose you?” When you asked this, his body kinda tensed up, and he looked down at his shoes. “No idea.” He muttered, shuffling toward the door. “Good day!! Er- Night!!” He fumbled and ran out the door without another word.
“Dang.” You huffed and looked down at your phone again. It said 7:55. You groaned and just looked at the rest of the employees. You knew if you clocked out 5 minutes before your shift ends someone would tell on you to the toxic easy-bake oven of a boss you have. But you were so tired and your bed was basically mourning you.
You sighed, clocking out and leaving the God-forsaken restaurant. As you walked down the street to your mom’s apartment, you caught a glimpse of a manhole cover in an alleyway falling back into place. As much as you wanted to investigate, this was the bad part of town, in the middle of the night, and you were a frail teenager. You had a mother and a cat to come home to, and getting dirty from the sewers does not seem pleasant.
You ignored the mystical manhole cover and continued on your merry way home.
As you entered the apartment, you found your mother and your cat bundled up sleeping on the couch watching some dramatic soap opera. You smiled, taking your shoes off and dropping your bags on the ground. You ran to your room and closed the door.
You stripped off your work clothes and flopped onto your bed with a happy sigh. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, my sweet bed…”