We meet again | South Park Highschool AU

Meeting someone new | butters pov

Working in the flower-shop afterschool is the highlight of butter's life so far. Hes more than happy to share his lovely workspace with a new employee.
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why are we in butters Pov now??? because I said so.

really who needs a timeline, these chapters defy time they happen whenever

I hope this makes sense chronologically or whatever im trying my best TT

Also no proof reading im I'm I don't have to have an excuse I just don't want to <333
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I pushed open the front door and a burst of cool air hit my face, the sound of the small ding  of the tiny golden bell hung atop the door graced my ear as I looked about at the empty flower shop. A small smile made its way to my face as I swiftly flipped the wooden open sign hanging on the front window and flicked on the lights. The shop erupted into life as the lights, white florescent bulbs flickered on. I quickly made my way towards the counter, pinning my bangs out of my face and switching on the stores stereo: filling the room with a low, sweet hum of   lo-fi comforting tunes.

I loved working here, it was my escape from home. A safe haven from reality. The overwhelming smell of soil and flower petals were as comforting as any scented candle; the glossy, white front counter: as familiar as the childhood bedroom i'd been grounded in countless times during my youth (though this time it was a nice kind of familiar). The kind of familiar that had me excitedly waiting for the day to be over so I could rush into the shop, hear the soft dinging of the belled door, and let the wafting scent of floral overwhelm my senses and be at peace.

I assumed thats how most kids about their rooms as they rushed inside it after a long day seeking their beds as comfort, a place to disappear from the outside world. I'm sure my room would have brought that same type of comfort to me if things had been different, but my room just brought displeasure: its bare teal walls made me squeamish; the loud, ticking of the hanging clock haunted my memories; the piles of stuffed animals hidden away in my closet left me felling empty; and the bed.

The bed was the worst of it. How many hours had I spent locked in that room, laying on that bed, staring at the ceiling? The countless hours of just, lying there had left a permanent imprint on the mattress, had caused my pillows to flatten under my weight. The covers had gone from comforting to sticky, clamping down around my body, making my skin crawl as the disgusting fabric rubbed across my skin. I've spent so much of my life trapped in that room; laying on that bed, that laying had grown boring. Sleeping  had grown boring. One step into that room made me want to hurl my guys out, peel the skin off my hands, claw my stomach out from my flesh. Tear myself apart for some form of relief so that I didn't feel trapped, feel stuck; wasting away stuck in that room.

So I found comfort someplace else. Somewhere my parents wouldn't bother going. Someplace I could hide at for as long as I pleased. That place was this flower shop, my perfect hideaway, a personal oasis. It was practically never crowded, being on the outskirts of South Park. The shop owners were nice, as were the few customers we had, and the hours and pay were some of the best offered for a high schoolers schedule.

Today was an exciting day for the shop, apparently the shop owners had hired another employee. I hadn't met them yet but I was excited to have someone with me who, hopefully, shared my same delight in flower keeping as me. It got quite lonely out here after all: even if the solitude was one of the things I like about this place, too much can be unsettling.

The shop had only just opened, unlike the other stores that littered the town who open at much earlier hours, and there was still much to do. I busied myself with various task such as taking inventory and watering the many varieties of flowers displayed about when the ding of the front door caught my attention.

"I'll be right with you!" I called out from the other side of the shop, as I hurried to the front desk to properly greet the newcomer, harmoniously dropping the spray bottle I was previously using to water the plants into its rightful spot under the front counter.

"How can I help you today?" I asked, looking up to see a boy around my age standing anxiously near the front counter.

He stood more in the middle of the counter and the front door, seeming to not want to crowd the desk with his presence. A messy mop of blonde curls sat awkwardly atop his head, loose strands falling into his face and toppling atop one another in a chaotic fashion.

"Hi, sorry, I was told to come here for my training?" He muttered quietly, his eyes darting everywhere around the shop except my eyes.

"You must be the new higher i was told about! Hiya, the names Butters. I'll be the one training you." I exclaimed, offering my hand to the other.

"Bradley." the other said, shaking my hand limply.

I smiled, "nice to meet ya Bradley, come on behind the counter and I'll show you the ropes around here. There should be a spare apron in the cabinet for ya."

"you too" the other said, shaking his hand limply

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IVE DONE WRITING

HAVE I EVER STEPPED FOOT INTO A FLOWERSHOP, MUCH LESS SEE ONE IRL???
NO
DO I CARE??
NO WE LOVE MAKING STUFF UP-

ALSO NEVER AVTUALLY HAD A JOB (yet hopefully tryna get a part time 😭😭😭)
SO THE ONLY EXPERINCE I GOT WAS SOME MOCK INTERVIEWS AND LIKE THIS INTERN THINGY IDK BUT YEA IF SOME THINGS ARE WRONG THAT MY BAD IM TRYIN

ALSO SORRY FOR CAPS-
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shhhh when I originally wrote this I didn't have a reference pic of butter's room so I didn't know what it looked like so I may have added stuff- but its fine its fine

dont even ask what happened in the 3rd paragraph- I just started writing and uhm that happened, dont dont question it its just there now-

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THE URGE TO TURN THIS INTO A STYLE FIC
I WONT
BUT I COULD
BUT I WONT