Looking out the window I noticed all of the rain pouring down at an extreme rate, the thunder shaking my house, and the lightning lighting up the sky. There was no other weather that would perfectly describe the mood of this city. Dreary, dark, and in the right circumstances, deadly.
Throwing on my boots and my rain jacket, I ran out the door and to my car where my remote start had thankfully already been warming up the anterior of my fairly beat-up car. In a rage a few months prior to today I had beaten the radio in my car, turning all five knuckled black and blue while breaking my pinky and ring finger on my right hand. That left me with nothing but the silence that screamed throughout this damned car.
The drive to the flower shop only took about 15 minutes, but every minute was filled with a strong longing to just go back home. Before the world turned to extra shit I had been in my last year of school to become an occupational therapy assistant. Now I was assigned to be a fucking florist at some store downtown. Everything in this town was open 24/7, which was ridiculous, but I wasn't going to be the one to open my mouth about that.
As I arrived at the store, I grabbed my backpack and ran as fast as I could to try to avoid getting completely soaked. My attempts were thwarted when I realized I had left my mug of coffee in the cup holder and had to run back out to get it. It was the only thing that would get me through this absolutely asinine 3 pm to 6 am shift.
It was an issue to keep every shop employed when so many people were currently being kept in places such as hotels and even the two local jails for committing crimes, and then there were of course the very upsetting and heart-wrenching suicides that had occurred. Some people didn't have access to the correct coping mechanisms and when literally cornered they feel like they had no other options left.
I couldn't blame that on the people in charge of Scranton, I blamed it on this entire situation occurring in our country.
"Oh good, you're here!" Zak cheered, clapping with joy.
The scent of marijuana suddenly hit me and I couldn't help but cough as it entered my system. I gritted my teeth as I had begged and pleaded that he does not smoke in front of the shop. He could blaze his idiotic brains out in his car, outside of the shop, the greenhouse (which seemed very fitting to me), or any of the fucking back rooms we had. That was apparently too much to fucking ask for, so I just bit my lip.
"Were you seriously expecting me to just not show up? Especially when I know Asher and Ben's shops are one block away from us. I would never not show up." I stated.
"What, would you not show up if Cameron's henchmen were so close to us," He asked, taking another hit of his joint. "Also, I'm appalled that you think I would sell you out to them. If anything, I'd punish you myself." Zak winked.
"Ok," I muttered, knowing that in reality if he so much as tried to touch me, I'd be tempted to slice him with a knife.
"Alright, so as always I left all of the orders that need to be completed for you, basically I smoked pot and jacked off to just about every category of porn today so there's a lot of stuff to be done, especially cleaning-wise," Zak informed me, making me want to vomit at the thought of what I would assume was his disgusting dick.
"Thanks," I said through clenched teeth.
"Hey Bea, you know how you mentioned Cameron and some of the other guys before?" Zak asked.
"Yeah, what about them?" I wondered, not really wanting to know the answer to that question.
"I think you'd look best riding Gabe's cock. You have this quietness that makes me assume you're into some pretty kinky fuckery. Just saying...if you ever get the opportunity to get in with any of the men in charge of this city, you'd look best hanging onto Gabe's arms." Zak stated, laughing his stoned ass off.
"Please just go home and let me work," I said, anger snapping through my calm facade.
"Oh, easy my little tiger. I'll leave, I'll leave." He chuckled, grabbing his pot-filled backpack and scooting past me to finally exit the front door.
As he walked past me I shuddered with disgust, as this had all become a far too familiar routine for me. I absolutely hated any talk or mention of Cameron or any of his flunkies that had taken over this city, let alone someone mentioning which one of their cocks I'd look best on. That comment alone got me so enraged I wanted to just put my fist through a wall, or better yet let it connect to his skull with a sickening crack. I just wanted one of us to feel pain, him so that he could hurt, and myself so that I could remind myself that I was not in a dream gone horribly wrong.
I grabbed a candle from my secret stash hidden in the cleaning supply closet which wasn't ever touched by anyone but myself and lit it, trying to allow the wonderful smell of cinnamon to waft through the store in an attempt to bury the marijuana scent. Not that it was illegal to smoke it here in Scranton, the smell just made me nauseous and the first (and last) time I had smoked pot hadn't exactly been the best experience for me.
The new candle's wick caught fire, and slowly but surely its calming scent began to dance through the room. This was one of those "the little things count" kind of moments.
Sitting down at the desk, making sure to throw down the seat cushion that I brought from home to avoid any bodily fluids that jackass may have left behind, I pulled out my daily list of chores for the day. Sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, dusting, cleaning windows both inside and out, watering the plants, cleaning the bathrooms, and a few more other tasks that made me want to rip out my hair on a daily basis. I didn't ask for much in this life, but would it kill that stoner to lift his finger to help do something other than roll or smoke his joints? He sure as hell made it seem like it would.
After downing my coffee with false hopes that it would be the thing to jumpstart my long day and night at the shop, I went to work on the cleaning tasks I had at hand. I blasted whatever crap was on the radio as I cleaned because I didn't want to be left alone with my thoughts anymore. I needed some noise, any noise to distract my mind from pummeling me with a million thoughts at once.
It took approximately 3 hours to give this place a very thorough cleaning so that the floors were shiny and squeaky as ever, the windows were crystal clear with no smudges, and everything was impeccably spotless. My cleaning ritual could very easily only have to take about forty-five minutes a day if Zak ever lent a hand, but he was lazy and not only didn't clean - but he contributed to making an even bigger desk.
Before the take over I would have contacted the owner of the shop and they would have called Human Resources, or someone who would have been able to deal with his unacceptable behavior. Now, however, if I opened my mouth against him that would mean having to go to Ricky, one of Cameron's right-hand men and that was something that just wasn't going to happen. Leading me back to my three hours a day, backbreaking cleaning routine.
We had about 30 orders to get down, and I figured it was best to just start grinding away at those, hoping the end of my shift could be a bit lazier. I knew it probably wouldn't happen like that, but a girl could dream. I recognized a few names on the list of orders, as we did have a few regulars who wanted a new flower arrangement every two weeks or so. Since Zak had so kindly decided that he'd give me the honor of these later shifts that go into the wee hours of the morning, I didn't often get to see who picked up the flowers. I only knew their name and their orders, not their stories which were honestly what intrigued me the most.
I wanted to know why they preferred roses over lilacs, why they chose everything but daffodils, or even why they strictly wanted blue flowers only. Did they perhaps have a child named Rose? Were daffodils a favorite flower of someone they cared dearly about who may have passed away? Was blue their favorite color, or did they prefer to display their sadness through the variety of blues in their gorgeous vase? I wanted answers to all of these questions and more, but I was stuck with having to settle on just the names.
My work carried me into the next day, time passing by frighteningly quickly yet tremendously slowly all at once. Around three in the morning, I completed my last bouquet and made my way back up to the front of the shop. Stepping outside now that the rain was thankfully over, I took in a nice deep breath of the fresh air. My lungs rejoiced as they finally got a break from that choking scent of marijuana that still managed to linger all over the store, even in the back with all of the flowers.
Looking up and down the street, I realized that no one else was around except for everyone else stuck working an extremely early shift like myself. I saw the sign for one of our little coffee shops that were still up and running, and it was too much of a temptation for me to resist. I needed some more caffeine for tonight, and honestly, the thought of a raspberry mocha at this very moment was making me want to salivate. It sounded positively delicious.
I knew I wasn't supposed to leave my shop, mainly in case Cameron or one of his goons stopped by to check in on us, but it would only take 7-10 minutes tops. From what I could tell, on the block to the left of me, Asher's tattoo shop was closed, and on the block to the right of me, Ben's oddities shop was closed as well. I figured I was safe enough to quickly make the errand.
Grabbing my wallet, and sliding my phone into the back pocket of my jeans I sprinted down to the end of my block. The wooden sign of a coffee mug was swaying back and forth in the crazy wind, but that was the only other sign of activity in the little cafe.
"Good Morning!" The surprisingly chipper barista greeted me.
"Same to you! Can I please just get whatever your largest size of a raspberry mocha with an extra shot of espresso?" I kindly asked her.
"Yes indeed! I'll have that right up for you." She said, all but running to the espresso machine with a cup in hand.
She made it very quickly which I was thankful for, and as soon as I paid her I made sure to thank her, but then I sprinted out of the cafe to get back to my shop.
My heart sank though as I ran straight into someone as soon as I stepped out of the door.
The coffee dropped, spilling all over the clearly just mopped floor, but thankfully missing my skin which would have very easily and quickly burned badly. I picked the cup up off of the ground, and when I stood back up I finally recognized the man standing in front of me.
"Oh my goodness! I am so, so, sorry! I didn't see you at all, I'm terribly sorry. Please forgive me." I said, my words coming out shaky as I was very much afraid at this very instant.
"It's alright, accidents happen." He chuckled.
"I'm sorry, I was just in a rush," I whispered.
"No worries." He told me.
I went to go and grab some napkins to clean up the mess I had made all over the floor, but he reached out and grabbed my hand.
"No need. She can take care of that." He replied, nodding his head towards the barista.
"No, no! I made the mess, that's not her fault. I've got it." I replied.
"No! I said she will clean it up. Please don't fight me on that." He stated.
"Yes, Sir," I responded.
"Good, now please let me escort you back to where you were heading." He pleaded.
I gulped as soon as he said this. I didn't know how much trouble I'd be in with him once he realized that I was on the clock. This whole city knew that Cameron and Ryan had very short tempers and were very strict on the rules, but no one ever talked about Ben, the man who I was currently with, very much. I didn't know his personality as it was a mystery just like Asher's was to most of this city.
However, I knew that telling him now would have been an even worse mistake.
"Thanks," I whispered.
He snaked his arm through mine and walked me back down the street. The closer we got to my destination, the more worried I became. I was just about ready to be sick when I reached the small pharmacy next door to the flower shop.
"Oh? Are we here?" Ben asked as I stopped walking.
"Um....yes." I nervously admitted, trying to avoid direct eye contact with him.
"My goodness! You're the flower girl!" He cheered, throwing his head back and laughing.
"That's me," I whispered.
"I don't believe any of us have had the true honor of meeting you yet, Ms. Bea. We've seen your files and have seen your pictures, but you're quite the quiet little mouse in this town. You're not a troublemaker, you just stay to yourself and do a damn good job when you're here working, from what I've heard from customers. I do have to ask though. What are you doing out of the shop?" He asked me.
"Well...I...uh...I just had finished all of my work and coffee sounded irresistible. I know I shouldn't have left, but I slipped up and caved into my caffeine addiction." I said, trying to be somewhat light-hearted in my response to him.
I didn't want to sound scared, because if I sounded scared it would be clear to him that I was weak. Weakness was the last thing I wanted him or any of his buddies to believe I was.
"I certainly can understand coffee cravings, Miss Bea. However, I will have to ask you next time to think twice about leaving your post without either having someone to cover you or just waiting until your shift is up. Alright?" He asked me.
"Yes, Sir. I will most definitely not do that again. Thank you for being gracious." I thanked him.
"You are very welcome, Bea. Just be careful though, as you may have heard some of your other leaders of this city don't have that same kind of civility. You were lucky that I was the one to run into you and not one of my coworkers. Continue to behave in this city, and I'm positive that we've met now, and we'll meet again. Have a good rest of your night, and remember...when you're working, you don't leave the building." He said with a poisonous smile, leaving me at the front door of the shop.
I wanted to run inside and lock the doors, but my body managed to go nice and slow. I went right behind my desk and watched from behind my computer screen as Josh stayed where he was and picked up his phone. My stomach once again churned when I saw him lift up the phone and start chatting with someone. My worst fears flashed through my mind. Was he talking to Cameron, was he reporting me, was I being flagged in whatever fucked up system they had? I didn't know, but I was praying none of those were what was truly going on.
Without looking back at me, he shut his phone off and walked back in the direction of his shop.
I wanted to get up and scream, curse him and his buddies out, curse this whole fucking country out for becoming such a fucking mess, but I held back. It was fear that held back that anger. I wasn't sure if there were cameras in this shop, left by Zak or possibly the "leaders" of this city, and I just couldn't take that chance. That meant staying in my chair, all but shaking with fright. I was half-heartedly expecting one of them to show up at the front door, to barge in and interrogate me. On what I wasn't sure, but so often our fears weren't exactly written out in an easy-to-read handout that made sense.
Just as these thoughts were swimming through my head, the front door opened, causing me to actually jump up and scream with fear.
"Relax, it's just me, dear. Ben asked that I bring you a replacement since he blamed himself for you dropping the first one. I apologize for scaring you, I know these times can be scary." She apologized, bringing me not one cup of coffee, but a second one as well.
"That's very sweet of you, thank you. I also apologize for him not allowing me to clean it up, you shouldn't have had to do that." I told her.
"It's alright, I'll live. Also, this one right here...it's got something a little extra in it." She smirked.
"Something good?" I lightly chuckled.
"It's booze, actually. So something much better than just "good"." She told me.
"Thank you very much. I appreciate that." I said.
"Of course. Now please stay safe." She whispered, squeezing my hand tightly, before exiting in the direction of her cafe.
I took a sigh of relief, realizing that it was just the barista that he had been calling on his phone when he was outside of the store.
At least that's what I would hope for and tell myself to get a good night's rest when this shift ended.