100 Proof Attitude Power

“Oh, yeah?” Molly raised an eyebrow, not sure whether or not to keep the conversation going with how small the girl’s voice seemed to be. Was she saying the wrong thing? Not being the best at making or holding conversations, Molly didn’t really recognize social cues too well, but that only meant she spent a lot of time worrying whether or not what she was saying was the right thing. It’s the biggest reason she tended to seclude herself, remaining rather monotone or annoyed by everything, she wasn’t the best at this. “What were they? Or don’t tell me. Whatever,” she tacked on, shaking her head and moving her shoulders up and down. She bent down as she started to work on the fabric, humming. “Do you ever actually meet people who deal?”

“If its all the same to you, I’m not going to talk about it. Just forget I said anything. We can just assume that we’ve both had the shit end of the stick as far as jobs go and call it good.” Zoey doubted that she would get any kind of argument on that matter and was happy to just leave it there. She’d spent a lot of time forgetting certain things and she had no interest in digging them up again, especially when they made her more sad than angry. If nothing else, it seemed that Zoey was distracted enough to not be as uncomfortable with Molly working as she distracted herself with other things. “Yes,” she said, though with a grimace. “Though usually they’re bigger fucking bastards than the ones who don’t. So goddamn annoying.”

Her response didn’t really surprise Angelo. Her annoyance was clear, but that wasn’t bothering him in the least. Only encouraging him. “Very true,” he murmured, nodding his head. “Well, that’s the case. You know, I could sing for you sometime. Some of my lyrics, they are… wow,” he said, letting out a laugh. “I mean, I was pretty good at writing in high school. Even got awards for it, but it has just gone… downhill since then. It’s incredible,” he mused, shaking his head before laughing and glancing back down at his plate. He made a decision to slow down, not wanting to finish and lose his excuse to sit and talk to her. “Oh, the latter. Definitely the latter. I mean, you know, there’s my brother, but I almost punched him a few days ago, so you can guess how that’s going. So, lonely. I’m a sad human being.” When she seemed disgusted by the thought of him flirting with her, he was both amused while finding himself shuffling uncomfortably, shaking his head. “Nah. Nothing like that. Not my style. Or - I don’t have any style at all.” He reluctantly grabbed another fry, tilting his chin down. “… Does that mean I don’t get a picture? Damn.”

Focusing on her coffee, Zoey suddenly felt as though she was going to need a lot more caffeine to make it through her break, let alone the rest of her shift. She almost wished that her break was almost over so she would have an excuse to get up and leave, But no matter how annoying this was, it still beat working. “Please, please don’t. I’d rather not hate music anymore than I already do.” As he continued, she sighed loudly and obviously. “No matter how many times I tell you I don’t fucking care, you’re just going to keep talking, aren’t you?” Zoey wasn’t one to resign herself to much if she could help it, but she had little more than words and anger at her disposal and neither seemed to be working in this case. “I’m not arguing that you’re sad or pathetic, but did it ever occur to you that there are plenty of people looking for friends? Especially in this fucking town. Every other goddamn person wants to invite strangers over for tea and fucking crumpets or some shit. And, while you don’t strike me as the most intelligent or wise of people, you have to realize that they’d be much better at the whole loneliness thing. Personally I’m sick as fuck of all these goddamn morons who don’t seem to get that I don’t want to be friends.” At least when he denied the idea of hitting on her, Zoey felt marginally better about the whole thing, but it didn’t change the fact that she was still interested in being left alone. Muttering a string of profanity to herself again, Zoey grabbed a spare napkin on the table and scribbled on it quickly before tossing it over to his table with a glare. On it was a crude and quick sketch of a hand with the middle finger raised.

When Zoey seemingly took her words to heart, a small grin tugged onto the corner of Molly’s lips. It was oddly endearing to her, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. Even more so when the girl seemed confused by Molly mentioning a competition. But, as she went on, her frustration seemed to bubble back up and turn pointed back at Molly. Taken back, she probably would have glared at the harsh words from whoever it was and kicked them out, but she desperately needed Zoey, and she couldn’t exactly find the heart to get angry. Yet. “I was just warning you. It’s a competition you’d lose. I have… some experience when it comes to different jobs,” she responded after a couple of minutes in silence, letting Zoey’s words sink in before finding herself comfortable enough to attempt to ease out of it. “Also, I think it’s the cursing. And the glare. You kind of look and sound like you’re seconds away from stomping me down. That tends to scare the average person, from what I’ve heard.”

Zoey couldn’t say that she cared much for the way the other girl was phrasing things. Warnings tended to imply threatening consequences and Zoey wasn’t much good at holding herself back. Much though she liked to think she’d risen above it all, threats and warnings still never sat well with her, harmless though they might be. “I have too...” Zoey said quietly, this time clearly no kind of contest. The words brought up a few memories and it was a while before she fully processed that Molly was speaking again. It took her a little bit to shake herself from her thoughts and slip back into her usual short manner. “I know what it fucking is. I said I always sound like that, I never said it was a problem. It’s just how it is and people either deal or they don’t. It’s that simple. Besides, average people suck ass, so screw ‘em.”

Not responding, Angelo watched the waiter returned, amused by the interaction. People who leaned towards negativity, or speaking their mind in a not so kind manner, were always Angelo’s favorites. Well… they hadn’t always been, but through high school, he was… convinced to love them more so than people who tried to go around spreading love while being annoyingly positive. Angelo already felt himself drawn to her - she had an air about her that charmed him, and her insults were inadvertently making it worse. He was sure he should’ve left it alone, then, but he couldn’t help himself. “I didn’t say I was finished,” he said, quirking an eyebrow at her. “I’m having a lot of fun sitting here and eating. It gets the song writing ideas flowin’, you know? I write music best at night, when it’s dark and I’m truly full of the deepest of despairs,” he rambled, before biting into another fry. “Your sarcasm is appreciated,” he said, entirely serious, before grinning again. “Weirding you out by sitting in a diner at two in the morning and sparking up a conversation with you for no reason? I don’t see how that could ever be weird.”

For a second Zoey actually looked a bit flabbergasted as he kept talking, her expression clearly saying that she thought he was an idiot of some kind. Generally speaking, the only people who voluntarily tried to keep up a conversation with her when they didn’t need to were exactly the sorts of people Zoey wanted nothing to do with. She doubted very much that this would be different. “No, I don’t know, nor do I care to. I didn’t ask.” At this point Zoey knew that she was supposed to say something like ‘wow, you write music?’ or act otherwise intrigued in order to keep the conversation moving. She was aware of what she was supposed to do, she simply refused, even though clearly her current approach wasn’t working. “I’m sorry, do I look like I need company or something? Because I don’t. Or are you so fucking lonely that you don’t really care?” Another thought hit her then, causing her to look almost physically ill at the idea. “If this is some fucked up attempt at flirting or that shit, you can save it. Never gonna happen.” Her glare only got harder as he grinned. “Yes. Do you need me to draw you a fucking picture. And before you answer like a smartass, that was rhetorical.”

Molly’s eyes widened unexpectedly when the girl snapped at her, not sure how to respond. “Right,” she hesitantly murmured, nodding her head. “We’ll get it over with. I usually have mannequins for this, but they are… otherwise preoccupied. Best to leave it at that.” Molly tried to ease past whatever tension and uncomfortable feelings might have been built on her side, but it seemed to be coming back with the girl snapped at her for having a worse job, narrowing her gaze before shuffling behind her. “Nah. Fast food still sucked. I mean, that sounds like it’s horrible, too, but… doesn’t make what I did suck any less. Not interested in having a battle over shitty jobs. Also, that explanation sounds incredibly similar to when I worked as a bartender. The worst of the worst hitting on you and trying to feel you up while you’re just trying to get a few bucks. Always a blast.”

Some part of Zoey wanted to apologize again, but she’d never been much good at dealing with people normally. She let it go, choosing silence over the possibility o having to explain anything. “Got it. Won’t ask,” was all she said, assuming that was what Molly had meant. Zoey would have been lying to say that she was honestly curious anyway. “I.... oh.” At first, Zoey was slightly confused by the response, but she supposed it wasn’t a surprise. Even when she tried to hold a normal conversation it sounded lke she was accusing or berating. That was normally why she didn’t try. “That’s not... I wasn’t trying to make it a contest, just a conversation. But then again I always sound like I’m trying to start some kind of fucking confrontation so it doesn’t really matter. This would probably be significantly more comfortable for the both of us at this point if you hurried the fuck up and we shut the hell up.”

When her harsh words were then directed at Angelo, his eyes actually lit up, shining with mirth. “Usually you don’t drink something that will encourage you staying up even later, but, hey, I’m not going to judge. It’s also not a good idea to eat unhealthy food before falling asleep, but here I am… ruining my body,” he reasoned, shrugging his shoulders up and down. “You should be,” Angelo quipped, nodding his head, “not many people can amuse me.” Which was true. Angelo usually held himself in one emotion, but her willingness to speak her mind, and seeming to be easily angered, she was pretty much right up his alley. At her question, his brow furrowed. “Well, I wanted to make that comment. Hadn’t really planned anything else after that.”

“Unless the whole point of drinking the slop is in order to stay up,” she retorted, not looking the least bit embarrassed when the waiter returned in time to hear the slight against the quality of the drink, and it almost seemed as though he was about to say something. A quick glance and muttered thanks that was more full of impatience and profanity than actual gratitude. Glancing back at Angelo, she cast a quick glance up and down him with a light scoff. “Well... if your goal was to ruin your body, congrats. Now that you’re finished, you’re more than welcome to leave.” The fact that he seemed to be enjoying the conversation was really only fueling Zoey’s desire to end it. Somewhere inside of her, she knew she was lonely, but she had way too much pride to let herself feel like she was being made a fool of. “It was great, really. So very insightful,” she responded, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now would you kindly fuck off? You’re weirding me the hell out already.”

Why exactly was Angelo at a diner at two in the morning? He had a sleeping problem. That was the best excuse he could come up with as he was shoving fries into his mouth and scrolling mindlessly through his phone. Probably the only multitasking he was good at. His focus was soon grabbed by a ‘motherfucking’ tossed by someone at the booth in front of him, and he was lifting his chin to look over at the scene in interest. Quietly, he watched as the girl vulgarly and intensely responded to what looked like a panicked waiter… and a grin pulled onto Angelo’s lips. His amusement was clear as he watched the waiter scurry away, flustered, and Angelo should feel bad for the guy - he knew that experience, but he was also one to enjoy it. When the scene was over, Angelo was still staring, and after a minute, he opened his mouth. Why? Because he clearly lost his senses past midnight. “You know, it’s sort of protocol for waiters to say the specials and ask if you need time,” he told her, shrugging his shoulders up and down. “But, still, that might be the best thing I’ve seen all week.”

The voice surprised her, having not expected any company, especially at this time of night. Already annoyed in general, when she looked over for the source of the comments, she was already glaring. It didn’t really matter who it was or what he was saying. “It’s the middle of the fucking night and I haven’t had a single cup of coffee all goddamn day, I’ll show him where he can shove his protocol,” she snapped, not sure if she was more relieved by the fact he didn’t seem interested in giving her a lesson on etiquette, or annoyed that he was enjoying this. “I’m so happy that I amuse you. Did you actually want something, or were you going to go back to staring like a creep?” There were a lot of things Zoey supposed she could have blamed her foul mood on. The double shift that would have her at work until well into the morning or the general stress and lack of sleep, but she preferred to think it was just her character and thus there was no guilt or any kind of regret in her expression after her words, merely impatience as she shot a glance back towards the kitchen for her coffee.

#starter #// idk what this is just go with it please <3

“Yes, I know it’s two in the motherfucking morning, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want coffee,” Zoey grumbled too a bit too loudly at her waiter in the small diner, but he seemed to not be understanding her. “I don’t want to hear your specials and I don’t need more time to decide. And no, I don’t want fucking decaf. The point of coffee is to keep me awake, goddammit.” Thankfully there weren’t many other people around, or her attitude might have drawn more attention. The few others around couldn’t avoid overhearing her however.

With the tension in Zoey’s body, all Molly could feel was guilt for asking the girl to do this in the first place. She took a small step back, moving around to face the girl. “Sure, you agreed, but that doesn’t mean I’m making you stand here uncomfortably for however long I want and then send you on your way,” she said, raising an eyebrow at her. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, before shuffling to try and finish adjusting as quickly as she could manage. “Do you work in fast food, or something? Not the best business. It ruins the the place for you, most of the time, which sucks,” she muttered. Work was always something Molly could talk about. “I got out of it a couple of years ago once I realized that I couldn’t handle working in cheap places which made me not want to eat at those cheap places, but it was also all I could afford. Messed up system, but I can’t be too picky. I’ve done worse.”

“I said it was fine,” Zoey snapped, her irritation arising more at herself and the situation than Molly. Actually quite aware of the sort of person she was, though, Zoey closed her eyes for a moment to take a breath. “Sorry. It’s really okay. Let’s just get it over with? Besides, if you have to ask me to do this, clearly your situation is sort of fucked at the moment.” Still, Zoey appreciated that the other was taking her--mildly irrational--feelings into account. She tried to keep in mind that she had agreed to this and that nothing about this was Molly’s fault. Not that something like that had ever really stopped Zoey from being rude. “Or something,” she muttered, forgetting her resolve to be civil almost immediately. An amendment was tacked on hastily. “A gas station actually, which is fucking worse. Full of pervs, drunkards and the scum of society, really. No sane person goes to a gas station at two in the morning, so I get left with the psychos. Fast food’s not sounding so bad now, huh?”

“Zoey,” Molly echoed, nodding her head. She hadn’t expected a name, but she wasn’t too affected either way. “Molly,” she offered, deciding it was fair. Especially so if the girl was now standing in her apartment. Molly would have felt guilty if it wasn’t part of her routine to see where the dress fit. Her guilt only came when she saw the girl flinch. She loosened her grip on the dress, raising an eyebrow at the back of the girl’s head as she tried to explain herself. “It’s fine. I’ll try not to be so… rough,” she concluded, clearing her throat. “If you’re uncomfortable, or I’m being too - you know, just tell me.” This time around she backed off a bit, pulling the fabric together. “You, uh - don’t really have anything else planned today, do you? Not that this is going to take all day. Maybe a couple of hours.”

It occurred to Zoey that this was pretty much the last thing she wanted to do on her day off, fifty bucks or no, but she’d already made the commitment, so she just continued to stand there, though the tension in her back likely gave away that she was still not pleased with the idea. “It’s fine, I guess. I already agreed so... whatever. Just do what you need to,” she responded, not really feeling like explaining herself or her reaction any. “If I did, I wouldn’t be here. I have the day off for once. As long as we’re done before ten or so, it should be fine. Besides, this is more than I’d make at work in a few hours anyway...” she mumbled the last part, mostly to herself, just realizing this and not particularly pleased with the idea.

“You never know. I try not to stereotype,” she replied with a shrug. “I don’t know your name, or anything about you, but… good to know that,” she ended lamely, before rolling her eyes in annoyance with herself and moving off to grab her needle and thread. When Zoey came back out, Molly lifted her head to look over at her, nodding slowly before looking her up and down. “Like I said. Stand there and be still. And, if you’re not still, try not to cry so much when I poke you,” she instructed, before glancing around her apartment and gesturing where she wanted Zoey to stand. After a minute she turned music on from her phone, deciding that it was better than silence between them and might make things more comfortable. Though, with the situation at hand, that seemed a little difficult to accomplish. Still, she started to tug at the dress, tightening it in certain areas. “Telling me if you can’t breathe properly is also ideal.”.

“It’s Zoey,” she said, sighing slightly to herself, but figuring it would be more convenient to say that much. Besides, Zoey was more willing to be cooperative if she looked at this as a job. Zoey’s normally confident manner faded a little bit with Molly’s eyes on her and she shifted between her feet slightly. “Alright,” she agreed with a nod, standing straight. “I really don’t see that being a problem. I don’t cry easily.” Her eyes remained focused on the other’s movements, especially as she got closer. The first time Molly tugged at the dress, Zoey couldn’t help her reaction, physically flinching and tensing even more. With her eyes shifting away for a moment, she just shrugged. “Sorry. It’s a reflex. I’m not really a fan of... never mind. Doesn’t matter.” Shaking her head, Zoey focused on keeping her thoughts on other things, just nodding in response.

The agreement had definitely thrown Molly by surprise. She had asked, and hoped, that the girl would say yes, but that didn’t mean she actually thought there was a chance that she would. Or, at the very least, she expected the girl to ask for more. Molly would convince herself that she was interested in wearing a dress, but by her style, and the look in her eyes, Molly didn’t think it was anything but for an extra fifty bucks, and she’d take it. Molly wasn’t the chattiest, which meant she was quiet as they walked to her apartment building. Luckily it was close, so they weren’t in awkward silence for too long, and soon enough they were in her place. It was a mess, but due to the clutter of junk she’d collected more than actual messes. She didn’t say anything as she disappeared into her bedroom and reappeared with the dress, letting out a breath and looking over at the girl. “Here,” she said, offering it over. “You can go to the bathroom to change into it.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a fifty. “In case you were doubting me, you can have the money now. Just know if you try to run off I can box, so you’ll most definitely regret it.”

Following after the girl in silence was a relief. Zoey didn’t imagine that she was all that interested in making friends anyway so this ought to be an easy fifty bucks. Setting her book and thermos down on an empty table to grab later, Zoey only had a moment to look around at her surroundings before the dress was being offered to her. The look on her face probably said volumes about what she thought about wearing the thing, but she took it without complaint, nodding. “Alright, sounds good.” Taking the money, Zoey pocketed it with a great deal of care, only looking up in discomfort at the final suggestion. “I... uh... that’s not going to be an issue. If I decide I want to leave, you can have the money back. I’m not a thief.” Grumbling that last part to herself, she took the dress into the bathroom, looking at it dubiously. He few experiences with dresses had never been enjoyable and she doubted that this one would be much different. Regardless, she put it on with a sigh, stepping out into the room again. “There. Just tell me what you need me to do and we can get this over with.”

“I was thinking more… petite, but sure,” she said, shrugging her shoulders and waiting for the girl’s response. The questions weren’t the ones she was expecting - she was looking more for ‘are you going to kill me’ or something similar to that, but she wasn’t complaining. Well, she was in her head over the mention of payment, but she could shrug that off for now. “Wear a dress and stand still?” She pulled her eyebrows together, before crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t know. Fifty bucks?”

“Whatever you want to call it,” Zoey just replied with a shrug. At the request, Zoey made a bit of a face, not particularly liking the idea of having to dress up and specifically not in a dress, but the mention of money made her pause her rejection again. She didn’t like how quick she was to jump at the idea, but she couldn’t help it. She honestly hadn’t been expecting an offer that high. “In that case... I guess it’s alright. Lead the way or whatever.”

Molly didn’t have friends - and no, she wasn’t sad about the fact. With how much she moved around, from locations to jobs, she didn’t really take much time to get to know the people around her at a personal level. So, when in an emergency, she didn’t have anyone to call to help her. Instead she was rushing down the streets of Town and into every shop she passed, looking for mannequin torsos she could buy. Which she was finding to be impossible, though she knew that the easiest way to buy them was online. She didn’t have time, and she didn’t have a model, but the longer she was searching, the more desperate she found herself. Looking around, her eyes fell on someone in particular, and after having an eternal battle with herself, she slowly approached them. “Hi,” she awkwardly started off, “I could really use your help. I have clothes I need to work on, but I need someone with… your body type to wear it while I do adjustments. I know that sounds really crazy, and creepy, trust me, but I’m getting a little desperate, here.”

Despite the fact that she really should be savoring the fact that she’d managed to get a day off for once, Zoey actually didn’t know what to do with herself. She’d ended up feeling a bit stir crazy and going to the park. She didn’t act any differently than she would have at home, simply reading a book and sipping home brewed coffee from a thermos, but the fresh air was nice. She’d almost forgotten that she was out in public at all until someone approached her. Raising an eyebrow, Zoey looked up from her book and then down at herself. “My body type?” she repeated questioningly. “Short?” Pausing for a moment, Zoey considered it. Generally she would have sent the other girl packing already, but she did have time on her hands today. “Two questions,” she concented after a moment, holding up two fingers for emphasis. “What are you expecting me to do and are you planning on paying me?”