✔ DRUNK words, SOBER thoughts ✖ hemmings au

01. The Encounter

ARI.

I usually don't work this late - strike that, I never work this late. But when Jasey Lopes bats her ridiculously long lashes and asks to trade shifts so she could go to her strikingly gorgeous boyfriend's party, you usually don't say no. Well, at least I didn't. Jasey, yes like the wondrous All Time Low song, and I were on pretty good terms. When our schedules matched up at work, I enjoyed working with her. I didn't have any other "girlfriends" and the tall, blonde-haired, green-eyed girl that every boy wanted to hook up with, unexpectedly became one of the only girls I could truly trust.

And that's how I ended up doing dishes and mopping floors on a glorious Saturday evening while the rest of my peers were engaging in actives that included alcohol, weed, and of course, unprotected fornication. I wasn't totally miserable though. It wasn't like I had anything better to do on a Saturday night. Crazy parties usually weren't my type of scene.

I lived in Percival Shores, California-- a small coastal town brimming with water bugs and fancy, rich folks. It was a predominately Caucasian community and in the midst of all the fair skin and blonde hair, there was me. I stood at a staggering 5 foot 3 with golden-beige skin, and not to mention my hip length deep red hair that stood out in a crowd.

"Hey Ari!"

"Jesus Christ!" I jumped out of my own skin, dropping the mop in my hand and whipping my body around to meet my boss Drea, who stood with her arms up in mock-defense.

"Sorry," she shrugged. "Didn't mean to scare you. You okay?"

I pulled out one bud from my ear, "I'm good. My heart only fell out of my butt hole, but other than that I'm great."

Drea sensed my sarcasm, "ha ha, funny. Can you take out the trash please? I'll finish mopping and then afterwards you can go get yourself into some shenanigans."

"By shenanigans if you mean a tub of salted caramel ice cream and the season DVD's of Pretty Little Liars, then I'm down for a crazy night. I might even throw in some soda - non-diet," I joked.

"Ooo, you're such a rebel," Drea mused and I let out a chuckle.

I wrapped the earbuds around my phone and slipped it into the back pocket of my skinny jeans. One of the reasons why I liked working at the Pier Pressure Shack were the uniforms - there were none. At least not ridiculous ones. We had official red tee shirts with the restaurant's logo on the front and on the back were a pair of numbers along with a name or nickname of our choice. It was like a player jersey, and Drea who was also the owner, really instilled the idea of teamwork into our systems.

The majority of my coworkers chose their last names to be printed on the back of their shirts, while the rest of us, myself included, wanted to be more expressive. That is why instead of my first name Ari, or my second name Quiorz, I decided to go with my nickname: Shutterbug.

If love at first sight exists, then I can safely say that my first shot at love was with a toy camera that my parents bought me for my 7th birthday. From that day forward, photography became my life. My paychecks went into camera lenses, lighting kits, editing softwares, whatever. When it came to capturing moments, I always felt the beauty in the ones worth remembering.

After gathering all the filled trash bags from around the restaurant, I plopped them all onto a long metal cart and pushed it out the back door. The back door led out to a small alleyway where the dumpsters were. Taking out the trash wasn't too big of a deal for me, but on this particular night, chucking guests' leftovers into smelly dumpsters become one hell of an adventure.

"Damn it! How can I be so freaking stupid!"

I stopped rolling the cart and dropped down, hiding behind the huge pile of overstuffed trash bags. I peeked my head to catch glimpse of a figure at the end of the alleyway kicking the dumpster. He was tall, and wore a bright shirt. He raised his fist and collided it with the wall. My eyes widened as he whimpered in pain.