Good Luck Girl (Mafia Novel) on hold

Chapter seventeen

A little blonde girl is running up to, what I guess is, her dad. "Papa, I missed you!", she yells excitedly. I smile at the sight. I wish I had that. Tearing my gaze away, I let my eyes wander to the old couple next to me. They look so happy. The wrinkled lady laughs at something he said, making the lines even more obvious. Most people will do anything to get rid of those lines now adays. But they tell a story, it's like a hidden book on some one's face. Every single one of them stands for the times she laughed, she frowned or got angry. I like the lines, they show wisdom.

Forcing myself to look away again, I stare at the street in front of me. Litter is heaped up on the side of the cobbled street. The stones showing black and grey colours, making it look even more poorly neglected. Empty bottles are smashed to shatters, bags of plastic are moving up and down with the soft breeze that blows it all away. Fallen leaves are huddled up in the corners, showing that someone swept them away. People are already going inside their houses, preparing for the cold weather that is about to come. Maybe I should do the same, but I need to find a job first.

My feet are stinging from walking this much. I really loath walking, it's never really been my thing. The only thing good about it, is that I'm far away from everything for a few minutes. How wonderful would it be, to just walk as far away as possible without a care in the world, without leaving anything behind. I wish I had the guts to do that, to do anything on my own. My body is already trembling at the thought of living by myself. Who will take away the spiders? What if someone breaks in?

Shrugging the scary thought of my shoulders, I continue walking. It has been the most tiresome day I have had in a while.  Job hunting is the worst. This morning, I quietly left the big mansion since Callister and Damiano were obviously still asleep. For the past few hours, I have been asking any possible place that I came across to, but every place says the same; "sorry, we already have enough staff". How can it be so freaking hard to get an underpaid job somewhere? It's not like I ask for much. Someone even said that I am too little to work. I'm eighteen for Pete's sake. Give me a freaking job.

Light drops of water start to fall from the dark, looming clouds. It's like they're mirroring my thoughts. I just need a job to vent for myself and then I can get out of this bad situation. How did it even get this far? I lost my house, my new boyfriend and my new friends in just a matter of time. My feet patter against the grey cobbles beneath me, the streets in front of me quieting down. Left and right are houses lined up, looking pretty beat down. The yellow paint is peeling of the wooden buildings, some front doors are not even closing anymore, and every few metres there are some bad looking people. I think they're smoking something.

Weird looks are thrown at me, making my gaze fall down. I have always hated when people looked at me. Like, how can I not want to be swallowed by the floor? The gaze of someone piercing right through me is probably the most anxious feeling ever. Kids at school always found me weird for it. Presentations were the worst. Just the thought of having to stand in front of the whole class makes my insides turn. Maybe I am weird, I mean, other kids can do it. I can't even ask for a job without stuttering.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see something flicker. A bright pink with yellow neon sign. City of Saints, it says. Looking at the building, I doubt anyone in there comes even close to being a one. But hey, it's not like I got another opportunity to work at. Should I go inside? The bar sign hangs on a rotten, wooden façade, with windows so dirty that you can't even see through them. You can't work at this bar; you will die in the first three minutes here. Well, it's not like I have a choice. How bad can it be? The bar where I met Jemila was pretty nice, so I guess bars are not that bad.

Shrugging my hoodie-covered shoulders, I decide it is worth a try. Who knows, maybe it's not as bad as they show in movies. I've never actually been to a bar, well, except that time with Jemila. I guess it was fun after I got drunk, but I don't like it while being sober. I skip towards the café, that looks even scarier from up closely. Inhaling deeply, I open the door with shaking hands. I really hope this is the right decision.

Pushing against the creaking door, I walk inside. Okay, it doesn't look that bad. Except for the unclean tables and cheap furniture, it looks- fun? The few people seated by the bar look like they're having fun. Bang. I jump at the sudden sound and look at the cause. Oh, it's just the door. I look at the bar again and gulp at the sight. People are looking at me with distaste and curiosity. "Ay, girl. Go back to your mommy," shouts a big man from his chair. The two other grey-haired men snicker. I think I made a mistake by coming here. Of course this was a mistake. Maybe it's not meant to be for me to have a job. "Shut up, Archie. Leave the girl alone."

Nervously, I watch as a woman walks towards me with a smile. The red strands of her hair standing out against her dark skin. "What are you doing here, love?" She asks me. She looks nice. "E-Eh, I was wondering i-if you have a job for m-me," I stammer anxious. My legs shake a bit as I stand in front of the intimidating people. A loud laugh echoes through the bar. "You hear that? Sweet Cakes wants to work here," the man, Archie, hoots. 

An angry pout appears on my face. Why does everyone make it so darn hard for me to get a job? Maybe because you look like a lost four-year-old. "I-I can clean and maybe p-pour drinks. Not that I've ever d-done that, but I'm sure I can," I tell her. I really really need this job. The lady in front of me nods thoughtful. "Do you have any other place that you stand a chance with?" She asks. Frowning, I shake my head. Stupid employers. "And you really need a job?" She raises her eyebrows while she asks so. Is she giving me a chance?

The corners of my mouth lift up a little. "I really need one miss," I confirm. She hums and looks around before settling her eyes on me again. "Alright, love. As you can see, the place needs a good clean up. After that, you can start with serving drinks. In the meantime, try to learn our assortment."

A wide grin takes over my face. I'm hired! My first job. I will not mess this up. This gives me time to finally buy my own things. "Thank you, miss! You won't regret it," I say timidly. The lady sends me a humorous look. "It's Tisha. Can you start right now?" "Amara. I-I can start right away." I smile at her. She has a nice name, I like it. I wish I had a pretty name, I never liked Amara that much.

"Great! Well, we've got cleaning supplies over there," she points at the corner next to the wooden bar, "if you begin with the tables and then to the floor so that we have everything ready tonight. Just call me if you're done. I will be behind the bar and serving tables." She gestures with her hand as she talks. I look at the supplies, looks like it has everything I will need. I've never cleaned professionally, however, it doesn't seem that hard. Let's just hope that the bathrooms are reasonable.

Tisha walks behind the bar, to which I follow for the supplies. "Oh, and love?" she turns around, "tell me if anyone bothers you." She shoots me a pointed look that screams seriousness. "Y-Yes, thank you," I reply. "Don't worry Tish, Sweet Cakes and I will get along just fine," Archie grins. Maybe he's not that bad. Tisha scoffs, "you and nice? We'll see." Archie shrugs his shoulders at this and turns to his friends. I grab the bucket with the cleaning liquid and walk to the sink. I think I'll manage with working here. It probably needs some adjustment, but I'll be fine.

-

Puffing out some air, I push the sweaty strings of hair behind my ear. Finally, the last part of the floor done. I have to say, three hours of cleaning is exhausting. I never thought I would be this run down. Maybe because you don't move, like ever. Yeah, well that's going to change. Archie and his friends went home an hour ago, but they didn't bother me anyway. Surprisingly, he was pretty nice to me in his own kind of way.

I flush the now dirty water through the toilet and walk towards Tisha. "Tisha?" "Yes, love?" She smirks at the sight of me. "You look like you're going to drown in your sweat. Maybe next time come in a t-shirt instead of a sweatshirt, huh?" she jokes. I scratch my neck and chuckle along. "Yeah, wrong choice of clothes. But I-I think I'm done," I tell her. What if she thinks it's not clean?

"Well, I have to say, you're the best cleaner we ever had. The place looks spotless," she admires. "You can go home now. If you stop by tomorrow to fill in the paperwork, then we'll discuss further issues." I nod, "sounds great. I will see you tomorrow then." "See you tomorrow, love. Walk home safely, please," she says. Nodding, I walk out of the old-looking door.

Everything will be okay.

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Updated: 27 March 2021

Sorry it's a bit short, next chapter will be updated soon!

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