10~ Locked Up

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Rule 9: Your opponent may be really stupid

Regionals was in two days, there was still a lot to do. We had to touch up our final performance, I had to get in touch with Tina about our show outfits, and not to mention I still had to work on my solo! And because life loves to toture me, Rachel and Finn decided to get married on Saturday! Helpful to me? No. I've been staying up late to finish her damn dress. But it's finished, and she has her final fitting with me tomorrow. 

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To be honest, I was still pretty bugged about what happened between me and Sebastian. I was scared, because these thoughts were taking over my mental life, and of course, he has to come into the diner just as we're about to start our dinner rush. When I saw him coming my way, in his Dalton uniform and his gelled up hair, I was busy with picking up the restock boxes for our storage locker, so I turned my head, sighed, and just tried to be civil.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi, you want a table?" I asked while busying myself.

"No, I just want to talk," he replied. I went around the bar with a pen and took out a clip board with our produce list.

"Well, you caught me at probably the worst time ever since I am having what most people call "a bad day", something you've never experienced," I said after I signed the papers, then I left it back on the counter for the delivery boy to pick up. After that I had to bring the produce boxes into the locker, "I have a party of twenty two coming in about an hour, one of our stoves is busted and I'm waiting for the techinition to get here like Speedy Gonzales, we're short staffed because one of the waiters broke his leg in a skiing accident, and the delivery truck was late again with a hundred and one other problems on top of that," I explained to him.

"You can't even take a break?" he asked.

"Nope, so if you want to talk then pick up one of the crates and follow me," I said and pointed to the produce boxes. He looked at me with dismay.

"Are you kidding me? Do you even know where that's been?" he asked. I gave him a flat look.

"You want to catch me in six hours after my shift ends?" I asked him. 

"... You know those boxes look heavy let me help you," he said and picked up a crate.

"Such a gentleman," I said sarcastically and led him to the storage locker, "Start talking,"

"Alright, so I was doing my hair the other day, and Bach's orchestra came through the radio and it got me thinking about --" 

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down. What did you just say?" I asked him.

"I was doing my hair and listening to Bach's orchestra?" he replied.

"You gel your hair every morning and listen to an symphony?" I asked him.

"Yeah,"

"How long does that take?"

"An hour," now I've seen it all.

"Put the box down," I said to him. Sebastian become confused.

"What?"

"Put the box down and park it!" I exclaimed as I sat at a table. He slowly put down the box and did the same.

"Let me tell you something. You know, reports have been made of people of having to shave their heads because of the amounts of gel they're putting in their hair. It suffocates the nerve endings and the hair doesn't grow back," I said. He scoffed and gave small smile.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"Yeah, and besides, nobody needs to ruin their natural look by turning themselves into a Disney Prince or a Barbie Ken doll," I replied with a smirk.

Reese Lavek ⚥ S. Smythe | ✓ (EDITING)Where stories live. Discover now