Beneath the Ink (COMPLETE)

Talking To Myself

SHES BUBBLY. If you don't like it, gtfo😘🥰

Cecelia May

I smiled, jamming out to Novacane in my head phones by Frank Ocean.

I cleaned my house, windows open, airing the chemicals out, making way for my wax melts to cover the smell.

The only time I could clean was with hot weather and when no one told me to.

I was in the mood shockingly enough.

I walked out to my car, grabbing the bags of cleaning product and bringing them inside.

I swept, swiffered, mopped, my hardwood, vacuumed my carpet.

I did the dishes, cleaned the counters, putting the bouquet of flowers I'd bought in the vase on my island.

I loved this place, the windows bringing in all the light Malibu could offer.

I dusted my furniture, ridding of dust bunnies, keeping track of the clock for when I had to begin getting ready for work.

I had done a lot today, had a 9 am appointment for nails, getting pastel purple, gone shopping, groceries and household, budgeted perfectly, done my bills, I had gotten all of it done.

All of the stupid adult things.

And I had to get ready for work in an hour.

Hopefully I got good tips tonight to get myself shitty food tomorrow.

-

"Those wings should be out in a minute hun." I smiled at the woman and she nodded.

I handed the table beside them their food.

"Burger, no vegetables." I said, handing it to the teen with their hand raised.

"Pattie melt is yours my dear." I handed what seemed to be his sister that.

"Thanks." She smiled.

"Your food will be out soon, can I do anything for you now?" I asked.

"Ketchup?" The boy asked, pointing to his fries.

"Sure thing." I nodded, rushing back, grabbing it, mentally cheering to see the woman's wings ready.

I handed the boy his ketchup before turning on my heel.

"Here you are, does that look right?" I asked.

"It does, could I get ranch? I'm sorry."

"No worries, I'll be back.

I looked at the table, seeing the same man I've seen once a week every week for months.

I handed the woman her ranch, the mom of the two kids got her burger as I grabbed my pen and paper, scribbling what he usually got.

I handed it to the chef.

I walked, checking in on my tables.

"Excuse me!" A man flagged me down.

"What's up?" I smiled.

"Her burger is really over cooked." He showed me his daughters mere hockey puck of a burger.

"I'm so sorry, I'll get that fixed love." I smiled at the small girl.

I returned it, telling the staff what was wrong.

I grabbed the man's drink, walking to his table, setting it down.

"How are you today sir?" I looked at him, he wore the same thing, hoodie, baggy black jeans.