When next I awoke, it was to the insistence of my well-meaning parents. I’d only managed to get two hours of sleep after I’d sent my response to Monument, but the excuse was paper thin and it crumpled before I’d even managed to say it. A fast shower coupled with an equally sparse snack for my breakfast was all I managed before I was pushed out the door, the lock clicking behind me and the threat of homelessness looming over my head in truth. My key had been taken and nothing short of a job application would allow me entry any longer; my parents had become serious in their pursuit of pushing me out into the great unknown.
First impression: it was too damn bright.
The day was certainly beautiful, but my eyes rebelled against the natural lighting that had become all but a stranger to me. I’d likely developed some manner of dwarven cave adaptation from my habits, and the sun was not lenient in the slightest; not only did the current season leave it abnormally vibrant, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky to offer a reprieve from its scornful gaze.
It was a mixed blessing that the city around me offered ample opportunity to escape into the shade, and the only immediate downside was that most of them were fast-food restaurants or stores and were liable to have far too many people for my liking. Still, the day wasn’t about to end itself anytime soon, so I might as well finish off two birds with one stone and get out of this too-pleasant weather.
The front door let off a soft ding as I stepped into a place with a name I hadn’t even bothered to check. The air was alight with the scent of ground coffee beans and the lighting was dimmed down to a far more appreciable level, though, marking it both as a cafe and a well-suited sanctuary for the time being. It seemed as though fate had chosen well for me.
Soft murmurs of private conversation littered the room from one corner to the last, supplying it with a cozy atmosphere that didn’t lose even to my own private room. The temperature, too, had found the perfect compromise of warmth, and not even those who had decided to wear a jacket for the seasonal weather would find themselves in discomfort. Truly rather ideal for someone like me, although it seemed as though there were sadly—
“Can I help you?”
—too many people.
It seemed as though I’d been standing in the doorway just long enough to draw the attention of one of the employees. Just like everyone else, she put on a patently fake smile as she greeted me, and there was almost enough forced hospitality to make me believe it. Brunette, somewhat on the shorter side, with a pair of crystal eyes and a smile that could melt the heart of men anywhere; it was no wonder she had been hired on, and from her young appearance and the not-yet-jaded personality, it seemed plausible that she was a highschool graduate from about a year ago, likely six or so months into her job here.
It was unfortunate for her that I was already experienced in such tricks.
“Yes, are you accepting applications?” Though my own words came out with only slightly less politeness, my expression itself didn’t change. I made no attempt to hide the fact I had no desire to work here—either in the now or in the future—and the girl seemed to catch on fast enough, albeit with some confusion.
“Ah, hold on. Let me check.” Her face had twisted into surprise for a moment, the expression she had cultivated so well cracking ever so slightly at being presented with someone neither pleasant nor a customer. Just like that, she’d managed to excuse herself and leave me to my own devices, and I took the opportunity to stand silently at the room’s fore in wait, idly glancing out beyond the windows into the eye-straining brightness I’d have to revisit soon enough.
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Before the girl had even returned, another employee had approached me, this one more openly curious and confrontational as to my presence here. Although I wasn’t blocking pathways, I was still in clear view of everyone, and—unlike the last one—this worker seemed to be a veteran unconcerned with chasing somebody like me away.
“Excuse me, but is there a reason as to why you’re standing here? Are you waiting for somebody?” The man looked to be in his mid-to-late twenties, and I wouldn’t have even been surprised if he told me he was a manager right then and there. He definitely had the weary look of somebody who had experienced enough of life to know what it lacked, and his expression was far more guarded towards me; he understood as well as I did that my presence was harming the atmosphere here.
“Waiting to receive an application.” For such a person, my words did not even need the faint touch of politeness I had shown before. My time in this place was coming to an end, and I had already grown tired of it regardless; there was no point in extending this longer than it had to be. The possible-manager seemed to believe the same, too, and I could hear the words that followed before he had even spoken them.
“We’re not accepting applications at this time.” A response so canned it could have come directly from a factory, but it was enough of one to finally bring this charade to an end. “If you’d like, there’s a free table near the corner over there, but if you’re not going to buy anything I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
At least with this, I could say I’d given it a try. I simply nodded to the man and headed outside, the sound of a ding once again chasing after me. Although the temperature and the lighting had been enjoyable, it was an unfortunate truth that places like these had a fundamental flaw:
They weren’t vacant.
By the time I’d managed to fish an application from one of the nearby buildings—from an employee that looked patently new, in a fast-food restaurant that had a “now hiring” sign out front—a full hour and a half had passed me by. Each encounter had been more or less the same as the first, just as it had been for me a few years ago when I’d been made to do this same exact thing. Even this application seemed as though it would lead to the same dead end eventually, either with a stern refusal come a week from now or by being ignored outright. Even if I did get accepted, I’d probably just find another red blotch on my employment history after getting fired a month down the road and the process would repeat itself.
These attempts only solidified what I’d known all along: I was unhireable, and this hadn’t changed in the slightest despite the few years between.
With the application in hand, I was allowed to return to the house once more, the paper serving as a makeshift writ of passage into my own residence. The lock clicked, the door opened, and I was greeted once again by my well-meaning mother, her face so wreathed in relief as to make my brows crease. To make such a fuss over a single application that would ultimately amount to nothing….
But of course I couldn’t tell her that. Just as I enjoyed escaping into my games though they weren’t real, I wouldn’t take away these moments from her. These moments where we would pretend I could get a job and become a productive member of society, these moments where we would pretend I wasn’t unsuited for the company of others and wouldn’t find myself jobless once again. She was happiest in times like these when we pretended I wasn’t a failure.
As for me, even without Aurora to guide my attention, there were still a few other distractions that had been gathering dust in the meantime.
I’d returned to my room almost immediately after the brief conversation at the doorway and my fingers had switched on the computer before I’d even taken a breath. My eyes adjusted to the darkness near immediately, and the computer screen welcomed me home after my fruitless journey beyond these comforting walls.
The chair creaked with familiarity beneath me and a new game was loaded up without further pause. The job application was left abandoned on the side of the desk, the paper a casualty of indifference; although it constantly tried to remind me of my obligations, I simply wanted to immerse myself in something else right now.
I would deal with it later, when I had to.