Cashiering isn't so bad [Creepypasta/Marble Hornets x Male reader]

Lesbians

   It's been maybe two months now since M/n's seen Tim or Brian, Toby visits the store inconsistently just to be a little pain in the ass, Jeff leaves for weeks at a time without so much as a goodbye, and considering Liu's still on a revenge quest he's just as unpredictable. It made Sally's consistency that much sweeter, it felt like the only thing M/n could count on anymore. Although the fact that he was relying on an eight year old dead girl for some normalcy was a bit concerning.

Still, watching her fidget in the little stool she always sat on was comforting. She ate her chips quietly while he smoked, using a little desk fan to blow away any smoke from her direction.

"You theem... strethed."

"I thought everyone one knew about my impending doom by now." M/n said after taking a long drag.

"I mean, we do. I just thought that maybe you'd wanna talk about it." Sally talked cautiously, like she was tiptoeing over mouse traps, thankfully though M/n didn't seem too bothered by the subject anymore.

"Actually... I'm okay."

"You are?"

"I think so? It's weird, but kind of... liberating. As long as I don't do anything too stupid I have like another two months to do anything I want." He began to explain while refusing to look Sally in the eye, like he was embarrassed to admit his compliance in his own death. "I always felt held back by work and my weird sleep schedule but it doesn't really matter anymore. I'm taking my mom out to lunch in a few days, we're gonna get matching tattoos, she's been wanting one for like a year now." He chuckled.

"It thounds like fun!" Sally supported his coming to terms, even if she knew better than anyone that any attempt on his life wouldn't exactly go to plan.

"Yeah, and my dad's gonna take me fishing. I'm finally doing the normal family shit I should've been doing like... almost a decade ago." His mood seemed to sour at that last though. Flicking the ash off his cigarette into the glass ashtray next to him he sighed.

"Not ath content as you thought you were?" Sally cocked her head.

"No it's not that. I just can't believe I've been working here for what? Eight- nine years? And they still dont think I'm worth it."

"I know how you feel." Sally offered her condolences in the only way she knew how, relation, and it surprisingly helped. It brought an unheard of perspective on his delima that seemed to comfort him. It was hard for him to explain.

"I know you do, that's why I'm complaining." They both awkwardly chuckled, M/n running a hand along his scalp before leaning it against the counter as he propped himself up. "While we're on topic, ever find that ghost therapist?"

"Thith again?"

"Mental health is important!"

"Not when you're dead! M/n, look!" She shook the bag of junk food in his general direction before pulling it back into her lap. "Thith! Thith is my therapy."

"That's just unhealthy."

"How?! How ith it unhealthy?! Ith it the ghost carbs?! Ith it?!" Silence fell over them for the better part of a minute as they stared each other down.

"How do you even eat—"

"Don't asthk, I don't have an answer." The dirty Barbie watch fastened on her wrist beeped obnoxiously till she turned it off. She hopped off her stool and turned to him while she dusted off her clothes. "Listen chuckles, I got to bounce."

M/n grimaced exaggeratedly, not liking how much she sounded like his mom.

"I've got a date I can't be late to."

"A what?"

"A tea party, Jack'th idea."

"I thought you hated Jack."

"I do! That clown fuckerth gone far too long without a reality check." Her little fists clenched to the point of trembling as she spoke. "But he brings these little lemon pastry'th and they're worth the eventual fall out."

"Fall out?" M/n's brow arched.

"You ask too many questionth for a guy who gets twenty dollar tipth."

He threw his hands up in surrender and his cheeks puffed out. He watched her drop the dollar bill down on the counter before jogging away, leaving him with a little wave and a quick goodbye. M/n found himself stuck with his own company yet again.

His mind wandered aimlessly, typically finding himself thinking back on one of the five, six if you weren't counting body's, guys he had met so far. Not that he wanted to dwell on them much, but it was difficult not to think about them when they had so awkwardly squeezed their way into his life. It was nice, for the most part, it made him feel wanted. Sometimes though, it left a bitter feeling in his chest. Friendship was something he didn't often come upon, let alone keep, and he wasn't keeping any of this either.

Better because of his untimely demise than them getting tired of him. Even if it did seem like Tim and Brian had already gotten bored. It didn't matter, he didn't want to think about it. Just a lesson in trusting anyone with his tragic main character backstory. I didn't mean much considering who did and didn't know about it wasn't really in his ballpark any more. Sometimes he'd sit and wonder who was the rat, who out of the only two people he told had the fat mouth and the gall to make it everyone else's business. His money was on Tim. No offense but he seemed too quiet.

As hours passed he was pulled from his thoughts once the bell above the front door rang to alert him. He pushed himself from the counter, sparing a glance to the newcomers and he could feel his breath hitch in his throat. He knew this day was coming but mental preparation wasn't preparation enough.

Still, trying to maintain a facade of peace behind his palpitating heart and cold stomach he swallowed back any nerves that tried rising to the front and nodded at the two women.

"Are you M/n L/n?" One of them asked.

"Yeah, I am." He nodded hesitantly. "You're Jane and Natalie, right?"

The ravenette grinned. "Mhm," she hummed, "it's nice to finally talk in person, Mr. L/n."