Lost in the Void. (Craig X Tweek) (Creek)

{3}

I looked at all of my friends, tears forming in my eyes. I threw the photo down, back into the box and ferociously shoved it under my bed. Part of me wanted to think that maybe they would miss me or try to call, but in the back of my mind I knew they didn't care. That's the problem I have with so many people.

They like you when everything's normal but as soon as something bad happens they throw you under the bus. They looked up to me when I was on stage, but ignored me in class. They weren't really friends, even though I wanted to believe it.

I flopped onto my back, still on the floor. I was so exhausted, even though I had just woken up. Life was exhausting and so was stress. I had gotten to the point where I worried so much, that now, nothing really affected me anymore. I knew that I was feeling anxious, but I didn't start panicking. I just went with what was happening.

Before long, I got lost watching random videos on YouTube. I checked the time on my phone, only to realize hat I'd be late to work with only 30% left on my phone. I sighed, muttering a few colorful words under my breathe as I stood up and changed into decent clothes.

I pulled out a pair of light green converse, slim gray jeans, and a green shirt. I quickly put everything on, grabbed my phone and wallet, and raced out the front door. My parents decided to keep work and home life separate, resulting in a house far away from the coffee house. I already knew that I'd spend more time at the house while my parents would end up spending the night at the store.

I sped through the streets of South Park, hair flying everywhere. Once I got to the two double doors, I quickly pushed them open and ran into the area marked 'Employees Only.' I went over to a rack full of aprons, and pulled one out that seemed to be the right size, then went over to a small bucket filled with name tags. I selected a random one and wrote my name on it.

I quickly slipped the apron on over my head and tied it around my waist, clipping my name onto one of the straps. I took a deep breathe, running a hand through my wild hair, and stepped out into the main part of the building. I slipped behind the counter where my dad was standing, giving a customer an unintentional commercial advertisement. I smiled to myself. I hadn't been late but rather right on time.

After my dad was done with his customer, he turned towards me and nodded approvingly. He then went to clock out, and head home. Once he was gone I started to busy myself. I had done the same exact thing in our last store, miles away. I washed the windows, tables, and counters multiple times when things were slow. I unleashed a serving master when things started to pick up.

Before long, everything started to get slow and no one was coming in. It was just me in the shop. A few minutes passed by and I decided to reorganize some of the things behind the counter. In the process, I spilled a huge pile of paper coffee cups and literally face palmed. I bent down to pick them up, and my hair fell into my eyes. I really should think about a headband or some shit.

There was no way in hell that I'd get a haircut. I'd bounce around and end up with a bald spot.

Once I was almost done, I heard the tinkling sound the front bell always makes when a new customer comes in. My mind started fighting over what to do, whether finish cleaning up the mess or helping out the customer. Then I realized that I was spending more time arguing with myself rather than doing either things. 

I sighed to myself, then hoisted my small frame up to a standing position. The guy in front of me was almost as tall as a fricking giraffe. Well at least to me, because I was short as fuck. My eyes found a clock on the back wall, telling me I still had three hours until my shift ended. 

I spoke up, saying, "Y-yikes. Sorry about that sir. What can I g-get you this f-fine evening?" My stutter betrayed me, and I immediately thought that the stone faced boy would point it out. 

But he didn't.

All he did was place an order for a large black coffee.

I was immediately intrigued. Most people who had visited the shop earlier that day had either pointed it out or played the sympathy card. This guy just went with it. I turned around to get him his drink. I then had a moral dilemma. 

Do I give him the drugged coffee?

Do I make a fresh batch with different coffee grounds?

Before I could go any further in my battle of good versus evil, he spoke up.

"How long has this shop been here?" he asked. I smiled, turning around and staring at him.

He was looking away. 

I was starting to think that maybe I'd like it here after all.

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Heya! I'll be doing a bit in Tweek's perspective for a while, as in the next chapter and possibly another after that. I really don't want to write the next one in Craig's but it's vital for the story to move along. I kept procrastinating on writing this one, but when I found myself watching a Princess Kenny speed paint, I had to put my foot down and get it over with. I hope you enjoyed!

-Author~Chan.