Rowdy || 18+ || RH

Chapter 19

Emersyn

I wake up to the sound of my alarm blaring from the nightstand, making me groan. I fumble for my phone to hit the snooze button but decide against it. Today's my first day at the new job, and I can't afford to be late.

I roll out of bed, still feeling the weight of yesterday's emotional rollercoaster. Mom's accusations, the visit to Lyle's apartment, Marx's support. Everything's a blur, but the responsibilities of life won't wait for me to catch up emotionally. I take a quick shower, get dressed, and head to the kitchen to make some coffee.

The house is quiet. My roommates are probably still asleep, enjoying the luxury of not having to get up at this ungodly hour. Locke and Cruz probably won't be up for another hour or so, and Fowler came in last night from working a double. He isn't due at work until this afternoon.

I pour myself some coffee and take a sip. The warmth and bitterness kick in, pulling me further into the realm of the awake.

I grab a granola bar from the pantry and head out, locking the door behind me. The city is still waking up, the streets less crowded than they'll be in a couple of hours. I make my way to the bakery, excitement, and nervousness battling inside me.

As I reach the storefront, I see the lights already on, illuminating the "SWEET BEGINNINGS" sign in soft, warm hues. I take a deep breath and push the door open. A bell rings overhead as I step inside, and the smell of fresh bread and morning pastries hits me. Man, I could get used to this.

The warmth and scent envelop me like a hug, and for a moment, I forget about everything else. This is a space of comfort, and I can already feel myself easing into it.

"Ah, you're here!" A voice comes from the back. I see Carol, her arm in a cast, navigating through the kitchen. "Good morning, Emersyn. How are you feeling?"

"Morning, Carol. I'm a bit nervous but mostly excited," I reply, forcing a smile to mask the jitters.

"Don't worry, you'll do great," she assures me, gesturing for me to follow her into the kitchen. "Let's get you settled in."

She leads me to a counter filled with flour, sugar, and all sorts of baking equipment. A woman around my age is busy whipping up some kind of batter. She looks up, her eyes meeting mine.

"Emersyn, meet Jenna. She's been with me for a couple of years now and knows this place like the back of her hand. Jenna, this is Emersyn, our new addition."

"Nice to meet you," Jenna says, pausing her work to offer a friendly smile.

"Likewise," I reply, taking in the new environment, excited but a little overwhelmed.

Carol explains that she's going to be out of commission for a little while since she hurt her arm, so she will be behind the counter only. "That's where you come in, Emersyn. Jenna will show you the basics, and I'll be here for any questions."

With that, Jenna takes over, showing me how to mix ingredients for the bakery's signature cinnamon rolls. As I'm stirring the dough, I feel the rhythm of the bakery take over. The ovens humming, timers ticking down, and the faint sound of Carol talking to a customer upfront. It's a melody of its own, and it's comforting.

Waking up before the sun, going to work, doing chores, and going to bed early have the week flying by. I love my job at the bakery, but I'm so glad the work week is ending. I'm exhausted, and I can't wait to hang out with the guys.

After saying my goodbyes to Carol and Jenna, I leave the bakery, still smelling faintly like cinnamon and vanilla. My body aches from the long week, but it's a good kind of ache, a reminder that I'm on the right track.