Peter's POV
"This is going to be a long day." I tell myself as I make my way towards the art gallery. Don't get me wrong; I love my job as a tour guide, but I've just finished a day of college, which is 4 hours, by the way. After this, I have to study for each class, which takes at least 2 hours, so you understand why I'm not exactly thrilled to be here, but it's fine.
As I enter the gallery, I'm greeted by one of my colleagues, Mark Williams.
"You're late."
It's not like I also go to college for four hours and have a job. I'm not going to push my education aside just because I'm a tour guide at a local art gallery that doesn't even get a lot of visitors anyway.
"Yeah, I'm sorry, I was at college." I tell him, trying to hide my irritation.
"Sorry, won't sit well with the boss." Mark scoffs.
I wanted to scream "Fuck off" in his face, but I knew that wouldn't do me justice. Does he think I care about what the boss thinks? If anything, it's him who should be worrying about the boss. The boss hates him, and I overheard a conversation with his assistant saying that he wanted to fire him, but he hasn't gotten the right opportunity to.
"I'm just a few minutes late; it's not like anyone is here yet." I responded.
"Yeah, yeah, just get on with it." Mark says, waving his hand dismissively.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. God, he's so annoying.
--time skip--
After a few hours, we eventually got some visitors. It looked like they were on a school trip, as there were many noisy children and not many adults. I watched as a young woman, who I assumed to be their teacher, approached the front desk. It looked like she was asking the receptionist something, but he couldn't have cared less. She finally gave what looked to be documents to the receptionist, and she and her class were let in by the receptionist, bringing the loud bunch over to me.
"Hey Peter, these guys are on a school trip; mind giving them a tour of the place?"
"Yeah, sure." I replied.
This is why I chose this job. My favourite part of the day is when we get visitors and I show them around. I love seeing their surprised faces and genuine interest in the art on display.
As I guided them through the gallery, a couple of the kids stopped at this one painting. The painting was of what looked to be a field with some trees. It had many colours, making it not that realistic but still an exquisite painting. I didn't see anything special about it, but the children did, as they suddenly started to swarm the painting, mouths agape in amazement, and I couldn't help but start laughing.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
"You guys like that painting, don't ya?"
This little girl approached me and said, "H-hi, Mr." She hesitated, not knowing my name.
"Johnston, Mr. Johnston, but you can call me Peter."
"OK, Peter, I like the painting. Can I buy it?"
I tried not to laugh. Did she just say that she wanted to buy the painting?
"Really? You know it's quite expensive; I don't think you'll have enough money."
"I knew you would say that, but I have enough money." the little girl answered.
"And how do you know that?" I ask.
"I borrowed Ms. Oakley's credit card."
And oh my god, I had tears in my eyes from trying not to laugh. How did this little girl steal her teacher's credit card without getting caught? I swear kids these days are not real.
"Look, I think you should give Ms. Oakley back her credit card; if she finds out you have it, she'll probably be mad." I said, hoping that would convince her.
"B-but I want to buy the painting." the girl sniffled.
I didn't want her to cry, so I whispered, "If you give your teacher back her credit card, I'll get you something for free from the gift shop."
She broke into a huge grin.
"Really?" She asked.
"Yeah, I will; just don't tell anyone." I said.
She nodded and slipped back into her class group. I saw her slip her teacher's credit card into her purse, and I laughed, shaking my head.
--time skip--
I gave the little girl a small picture of the painting she wanted, and she was ecstatic. I couldn't help but smile at how happy she was. The class thanked me, and the teacher told me that they'd be back, and they made their way out of the art gallery.
"How was it?" Mark asked me from behind, almost giving me a heart attack. He needs to stop doing that.
"It was great, y'know, whenever I get new visitors and stuff, I remember why I chose to work here as a tour guide; it's just so special seeing people, young and old, amazed-"
"Look, dude, I don't care. I was just going to ask if you can stay for a bit. I'm swamped, and I can't. You'll just have to stay until the guards come." Mark interjects.
"Yeah, sure, I'll do it." Even though I should be studying right now, this was not part of my employment contract, and it's his job. I decided not to tell him, as he would tell our boss, the snitch, and I would probably be fired.
"Great, I'll see you tomorrow; don't be late."
"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow." I murmur.
Like I said, this is going to be a long day. A dull, uninteresting, and slow day.
Boy, was I wrong...
----------------------
Author's Note
Hello my Luvs! You were promised a chapter today, and I delivered. I have been studying so hard for my summer exams that I practically have a headache, so don't expect too many chapters the following week and the week after that. If you're interested, please email me at [email protected]. I'm actually seeking a writing partner to brainstorm ideas with. I hope the rest of your week is amazing!