On The Sunny Side☀️

Late noon on Ord Mantell brings out the worst in people. It's unbearably sweltering outside and the exhaust from towering vents spreads a foul stench you can't get away from. Patience is nonexistent in these parts and every single temper is running higher than the sun. It's a real let down when you wake up just knowing the day and all perpetual ones after are going to be pure gutter trash.

You angrily stomp at an accelerated pace through the path that you've traveled countless times leading to your workplace. Transportation would have been nice but a selfish relative took it upon themselves to make off with your speeder ever so conveniently before your shift. In the back of your mind you knew the reason for their petty act. All because you decided to have the audacity to shower after a twelve hour long shift when they claimed they needed the water rations to make some frivolous tea, it gave them the right to inconvenience you tenfold. This will be the fifth time this has happened and you're expecting to be without a job, regardless of the explanations you have for your boss. With eyes glued to the ground, you walk through the blast door threshold hoping to slip past unnoticed.

"Well look who finally decided to show up!" Comes a patronizing snarl from behind the pawnbroker's counter. "If I wanted a lazy sod to work for me I would have hired one of those greasy Hutts."

"I can explain. Please, this will be the last time, I promise." You never thought you'd be begging to a Crolute in order to remain employed but here you are, practically kneeling for a person who looks like a massive, smashed toe. It was almost impulsive the way you are always so quick to try to defend your case even when things aren't your fault.

"You're right. This is the last time. Go clear out your locker and get out of my sight." He spits the words at you, bitter and final. You have fought this same battle numerous times but today, you just don't have it in you. As much as you would love to scream at him for discarding you like a piece of junk unfit for a Jawa to scavenge, you bite your tongue and fight back the sting of rage-filled tears for being served the cherry on your bantha poodoo sundae. "What? You gonna cry now?" He adds, bursting into antagonizing laughter.

"I don't do that anymore." Months of being pinned by the overbearing weight of his offensive interactions has hardened you. You've adapted to burying your emotions in fear of being ridiculed for barely showing a glimpse of vulnerability. His mocking tone has a way of hitting you in all the wrong buttons, eroding at your self-worth little by little every day.

"That's right. It's because I've toughened you up. You're obliged to thank me, you know. This galaxy don't take too kindly to softies like you out there." The conceited chuckles following every line he says makes for one shallow audience, laughing at his own senseless jokes.

"Fuck you." His glazed eyes widen in surprise while yours squint with animosity, driving a brazen seriousness to your reply.

"Oh, still got a little fire in you, eh? Tell ya what. If it's any consolation, I'm sad to see you go. Gonna miss having my own personal punching bag scuttling about like a scared little mouse." He leans closer to you, thick sausage fingers moving to poke your shoulder but you slap it away, turning on your heels to make for the back of the establishment as he mutters more insluts under his breath.

Quickly tapping your access code into a terminal at the end of a long corridor, the door slides open and closes behind you. It's dim and quiet at least, no one around to watch you fall apart. Discarding your uniform shirt for a clean one in the locker, you collect the remainder of your belongings and pack them into your satchel. The looming dread of having to face your toxic family about your loss of employment when they already take advantage of you so often forces you to your knees. You know they are going to suffer awful bruises from the abrupt impact but that's not your concern at the moment. For now, you're focusing on venting out a fountain of pent-up frustration and anguish you've denied yourself the liberty of releasing.