Chapter Text
"Look, I’m just saying this kind of job will end up getting to you, give that offer a shot, think about giving that offer a shot.” Abby said, voice muffled behind the boxed couch he was helping her lift up.
“Yeah, because I’ve got such a good track record with customers, I’d fit right in up on sales, huh?” Mira huffs, moving backwards, towards the already topped off cart, placing the box on top of the rest, rolling her shoulders in a stretch once secured. “Besides, weren’t you the one insisting on me having a resting bitch face? Can’t imagine that being welcomed on the top floor.”
“I mean, that was on the dickhead that got handsy, we both know that, so don’t come at me using that as an excuse, also-” Pulling off one of his heavily worn work gloves off, Abby continues, fiddling with his scanner as he does. “-you’ve been up there as well to fulfill orders, you know you wouldn’t be the only one with a RBF, highly doubt that’d be an issue.”
Finishing her stretch with a grimace, Mira checks out her watch, only two more hours of shift left, taking hold of the cart’s handles and start moving it towards the pickup area, one of its wheels making loud, clanking noises, clearly broken, doubling her effort. “Look, if I apply. If I do so, will you drop the subject?”
Catching up with her, Abby scans the code on the box with one hand, patting her back with the other. “Yes, ma’am.” Words that earn him an elbow to the side as he cackles. “Okay, okay, I’ll drop it. I think it’d be a good thing for you, genuinely, you know that, yeah?” The patting of her back moves to her left shoulder, becoming gentler. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed this has been giving you trouble, Mir. Something less physical might do you genuine good.”
Mira pushes the cart faster, shrugging his hand off her shoulder and side-eyeing him, the pickup point a few meters ahead. “Who’s this we.”
Sighing, Abby puts on his glove on again. “The afternoon guys, some of the morning ones…” then, in a lower voice, “our coordinator…”
“Our coordinator. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.” Mira grips the handles tighter, both wishing to get to the point as soon as possible to finish the conversation and hoping the last few steps will last for longer only to have something to hold onto. “So pretty much everyone thinks I’m useless. Cool, neat.” She leaves the cart at its designated spot, willing herself to remove her hands off of it, marching to the printer to get the order’s paper ready, Abby trailing behind her.
“Hey, hey, no, it’s not like that. We just think you’re pushing yourself too hard after what happened, thought the change to sales could do you good to rest up that shoulder of yours.” He snatches the order paper from her hands with an apologetic smile. “This job is a joint killer, Mir, gets only worse after injuries, you know that as much as I do. Give the guys upstairs a chance.” Then, softer. “Give yourself a chance, yeah?”
“…Fine. I’ll give it one chance, but I swear, if things go poorly you’re taking the seven hundred kilo orders for a whole month when I come back.” She says, frowning at the scanner in her hand, showing one of such orders, ready to be picked. “And, speaking of, gotta get moving.”
Abby hums, waving one of his hands as he sticks the paper to one of the boxes with the other. “Go on, go on, let me know if you need help with anything.” Then glancing back at her figure, already leaving for an empty cart, calling after her. “Don’t forget, the interview rounds start tomorrow, get that musty ass uniform shirt of yours a good ironing for it!”
Flipping him off without turning back, Mira continues on, sparing another glance at her watch with a sigh. An hour and fifty-two minutes left of her shift.
Hanging banners would be easier, Rumi thinks, if one wasn’t afraid of heights. Pointedly not looking at the ground below, she keeps both feet firmly planted on the second to last step to the top one, Celine’s voice, always make sure you’re following safety guidelines, if not for you, for others, she’d tell her. Not that she’s wrong, but she stresses enough about herself to add the safety of others to her concerns on top of it. For now, she’ll wrangle the thread, tying it up neatly and secure and giving it ample lenght, better overshoot that than have to go up the ladder again.
Being often alone in her section, she’s thankful she doesn’t have to talk much to anyone other than customers. Don’t get her wrong, she does enjoy her coworkers’ company, just… in smaller intervals.
…it’s what she’d say about most of them, with a very important exception, exception that is currently weaving through the desks of the office furniture area, checking in on the props on the ones they keep decorated for customer visuals.
Dressed in their customary blue pants and yellow shirt, Zoey, Rumi had learnt, one of the newest members of the Comin department, making sure the room settings are well furnished and that the items in their respective sections are decorated properly. Despite the uniform that keeps them all recognizable, Zoey seems to have taken a liking to switching the keychain of her employee card holder now and then, having settled for a while now on one of their tiny turtle plushies. Not that Rumi has noticed. At all.
Being jolted by the announcement of the store closing in fifteen minutes, Rumi realizes she had been staring, immediately turns around busies herself with the banner still in her hands, focusing on it, missing Zoey’s gaze moving to her as she does, keeping her head and hands busy, rushing to try and get it done before she needs to clock out.
“-and like, really, who lets their kids open up acrylics at a store then either don’t realize they’re smearing paint all over a countertop, or what’s worse, notice that then leave without saying anything!” Zoey throws her arms up exasperated. “Like, at the very least let us know! We won’t yell for things like that! Just… gossip about it in the locker room, come on.” She keeps grumbling, taking off her shirt and hanging it neatly inside her locker and reaching for a flowy top and a varsity jacket, long gone the first week jitters about getting changed around others. “I know I gotta remind myself tomorrow will be a new day, but gosh that’s a new day for them to spill ice cream on a couch.” She turns to Mystery, who was silently nodding, already changed and waiting.
“That, or break a vase then kick the glass under a rug.” He starts lifting fingers as he goes, “Try and take home the curtains that are hanging, rip off a piece of wallpaper as a sample, watch their dogs relieve themselves then not let anyone know…” he trails off.
All dressed, locker closed, Zoey shoos him forward, snorting. “You know, somehow, that’s not motivating me much about coming to work tomorrow.”
Mystery merely shrugs, the smallest smug grin appearing on his face as he turns to her, entering the employee’s elevator. “As if you need any extra motivation to come to work, miss crush-on-my-coworkers. Speaking of, would you look at that, I think I’ll take the stairs down, it’s good for my heart.” He says, glancing out of the already closing doors as he swipes his hand, reopening them to move out just as a certain woman with a long, smooth purple braid ran towards the doors, nodding gratefully at him as they reopen allowing her to enter.
As she does so, Rumi gets to truly see who’s the only other person inside, left frozen as she tries to keep herself from staring again as the doors hiss closed.
Yet, unknown to her, Zoey is very much going through the same motions. Tomorrow will be a new day.