Another day gone, another job fired from.

It hasn't been that long since the Faulken Crisis and what? I've been fired from eight jobs? Pitiful. I had a great life ahead of me—working in the deep sea robotics department, but then…Jacque.

That asshole.

He decided to try and create his own personal army. Yeah, ok, we could see him doing that with the cyborgs, and, in hindsight, that was a terrible idea. But then he decided to kidnap a bunch of hero and villain relatives. Or was it just heroes?

Bah. Doesn't matter. He's been declared dead anyway.

So here I am. Bouncing from job to job. Denied from most for being too overqualified, and fired from the rest simply because I can't do the job. No place in the city needs someone who majored in robotics and minored in marine biology.

If only the Archimedes Archipelago was hiring. If only, then I would just apply there. BUT! They aren't! And I can only work at fast-food restaurants 'cause no one needs an engineer!

Then someone complains over the tiniest thing. And I get fired. I feel like I've made my point. Boo-hoo. Life sucks right now, and I can't blame anyone because the person responsible is dead.

I mean, I could blame the heroes? Nah. That'd just earn the ire of like, most of the city? Yeah, more like half…

Maybe I should just become a prostitute? No…I'd never hear the end of it from my parents.

Oh god. How am I gonna explain all of this? They're gonna call me eventually. Hey, mom, dad. Uh, you know that very, very expensive degree that you helped pay for through my collage years? Yeah, it's kinda useless now. The job market kinda went downhill. Yeah, there's two places that have a monopoly on robotics. One got blown up, the other isn't hiring. The power vacuum is yet to be filled too.

Now…back to that prostitution idea. I heard that most of the girls they hire are under the protection of self-summoned demons. Now, I'm not a religious girl, contrary to what my extended relatives think, but even I find employment under literal demons to be…

Shady.

Though, if that's what I have to do, then that's what I have to do.

While I ruminate in my thoughts of future employment prospects, I seem to have navigated myself to Ed's Family Diner. It looks empty inside, only a single woman sipping from a cup of coffee. Maybe just a bite?

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. No. No eating out. I barely have enough money just for this week. Maybe some other time…whenever that may be.

As I walk past the diner, my heel snaps, tripping me. My imbalance causes me to fall into the nearby alley. At least it isn't the street.

Then my shoes went flying.

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Now, I don't mean they grew wings and flew away. No, they were forcefully ripped off of my feet and thrown into the distance, all by some unknown force. Then my hands were held down above my head, gravel digging into the skin.

My blouse was ripped open and my skirt torn off. Left in only my underwear in the dirty New York street, a small breeze gusts into my ear. No, wait. An airy, hot breath.

"Now…" A voice, no older than a teenager, whispers into my ear. "Just stay down and be quiet, okay? It'll all be over soon." I-I don't want to look. I can't even see him anyway.

Eyes squeezed tight, I wait for the moment that never comes. The only thing that does follow is the sounds of something cracking… And the hollow sound of a fallen trashcan.

I open my eyes to see a smoggy sky. Sitting up and still disregarding my half-nakedness, I find the unconscious body of a lanky teenager. His messy, dark hair covers his eyes, but I can spot the slight glint of a pair of glasses. He's wearing a button-up shirt with a small insignia over his left breast, and…pants around his ankles. His plaid…underwear…with his…member out. Weirdly enough, he's also covering in various pieces of garbage, as if the can he crashed into decided to regurgitate on him.

He's fading in and out of opacity, eventually settling on opaque. He groans and pain, shifting around, but he doesn't seem to be getting up anytime soon.

*crunch* *crunch* … *crunch*

Slow, foreboding footsteps approach from behind me. I freeze up, moving from one form of shock to another. I don't think I can take any more of this tonight.

"Are you okay?" A distinctly male voice asks. Unlike the predator, this one in a much more inviting, friendly tone. A greasy, fat man stands there. A small mustache adorns his face, slightly hiding the smile underneath. "I just came out here to take out the garbage. I guess I ended up doing that in two ways…"

"I—" I begin, becoming distinctly aware of my lack of clothes. He holds up a finger before taking off his chef's apron. It's a little big, and smells of fry oil, but it's better than my ruined garments.

"Just head in the diner. I'll follow in a second." He walks over to the fallen teenager and slings him over his shoulder. I guess I'll just go.

I walk into the empty diner. Well, practically empty. There's a woman wearing…leather armor? A red cloak is draped over the back of her chair, too. Sipping from her mug of coffee, she quirks an eyebrow at my appearance.

When the nice man walks in with the teenager, she sighs as he throws him into a nearby booth. He props up the kid so that he looks like he's just drunk-unconscious.

She speaks up, a melodic voice contrary with her sharp stare, "Dad, what did you do?"

He puts his hands up in defense. "N-Nothing. I was just helping this young woman here. She was being held down by something invisible. I just threw my garbage near her. It's common sense."

"Dad, it's not common sense to throw garbage at someone who looks like they're being attacked; especially if they're alone. Plus, the only thing common about common sense is how uncommon it is to find people with the same sense."

"Well! I- uh, got this kid anyway. He was blinking and such. Maybe you know something?"

The woman thinks for a moment while I cough, mainly to get their attention. "Uh, what about me?"

The woman waves me off. "Yes, yes. I'll be needing your statement…when you're ready of course." She sits back down at her seat, now in deep thought.

I sit down next to her, staring at the shiny counter. A glass cup is placed in front of me. It's a milkshake. Looking up, I find the kind man with an equally kind smile on his face. "I just realized. I never got your names."

"You never gave yours," the woman counters, then sighs. "Mine's Rose."

"Ed." The kind man, Ed, begins wiping some mugs that he got from under the counter. "Listen, you look like someone that's fallen on hard times." I nod. "Yep, with what's happened tonight, I'd expect you need a nice change of pace."

I nod again.

He leans on the table. "Question: are you looking for a job?"

His daughter, Rose, perks up in slight anger, at his question. "DAD! She was just attacked! I don't think now is the right time to be looking for a new waitress!"

I stutter, "Um, actually, yes. Yes, I am looking for a job. I've been bouncing around, but…there's nothing to do."

Ed gives his daughter a proud smile while she scowls. She covers her face by chugging her coffee with audible gulps. She sets her mug back down, thousand-yard stare present. Her face slowly shifts into a smile, one that could be found on a raccoon that found a garbage can full of untouched food.

What the hell am I talking about?

Rose snaps to the unconscious boy in the booth. Glee obvious on her face. "Dad," she says, barely hiding her excitement, "I think you just helped me get my next commission."

"How so?"

"That guy there," she points to the boy, "is one of the sexual predators prowling the city, if I'm right. If so, then this is huge." She jumps over to the booth, picking up the boy with as much ease as Ed had. She pulls over her phone, tapping a few times on it.

"Ahem," Ed clears his throat. "So, about that job…"

"Um, it's just a waitress job, right?" He nods. Ugh, beggars can't be choosers, I guess. It's either this or prostitution, and after tonight, I think my choice is clear.

"I'll take it. Though, what happened to your previous waitress?"

Ed coughs, and Rose snickers. "She quit," he states matter-of-factly. "After the…Nazi incident, she left. Too stressed to keep living here. Umm, let's see— Oh, yes! I'll need your name."

"Clara," I say, at last.

In the next moment, a glow fills the diner. Some…portal-like thing is tearing space asunder in the center of the front of the restaurant. Rose jumps through it, only for it to close a moment later.