Doll (MikaYuu)

♦01♦ - Coffee

You know that stodgy old saying you've dreaded hearing as kid whenever you've wished for something bad to happen? Like, say that one time you've wished for your ex-friend's pet dog to die because they stole your cookies at lunch or something?

"Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it."

Something negative always came along with what you wished for, like karma.

Well, I only wished for something good. I simply just wished for a job. And I got one, astoundingly of what was considered the most worshiped and godly positions of that job.

But sure enough, that negativity still came along with my wish. I'm still not sure to this day if I would necessarily call it "negative," because it did land me a job in a massive marketing company that wanted nothing to do with me at first.

And it all started with one anarchic day - a bodyguard, a coffee cup, and a supermodel who was worshiped like a god. Just to clarify, that guy was unfortunately not me. Well, not on that day, at least.

I had just left my apartment, which I shared with my irritating, constantly-arguing parents, pretty early that morning to do what every guy my age was told to do. And I'm talking about those guys who sit at home and play video games all day and eat junk food:

"Get a job."

I survived their argument over - I can't believe it - the news.

It was my first time in a city after awhile, and I was glad my travels out to the congested metropolises were very rare. Taxis were everywhere, and it was just so terribly frantic. Even if you have the right to cross the crosswalk, just suddenly, BAM, a taxi car is in between your buttcheeks and you've missed your job interview to land you an awesome job at a multimillionaire-ing job because you broke a leg and two fingers.

But, luckily, I made it safe into the city after my long train ride from my deserted little apartment in the suburbs out into the city's hellish realm. I had luckily mastered catching two taxi drivers, one who hardly spoke English, and the other whose car smelled like moldy ass... Whatever that smelled like, anyways. It was the first thing I thought of as soon the whiff flew up my nose when I entered the taxi.

I wasn't even sure where I was planning to job search, I just did it so my parents wouldn't chastise me anymore. In fact, as much as I hated the city, I had almost felt a spark of excitement just to get here, just so I could be out of my house raging with patronization.

Then again, the more I painfully considered it, I did have a weak spot for being patronized. I was nearly twenty-one, graduated from high school with unsurprisingly - if you knew me well - high grades and recommendations, and only did two years of college; my other two weren't necessary because I was already too far excelled in my technological design courses.

Basically, I was the definition of "nerd."

So of course this made my parents angrily confused as to why I was still hermitted up in their apartment playing video games all day and lounging around just waiting for death to come and drag me away when I had my head full of knowledge.

Well, I didn't want to grow up. Growing up frightened me. Getting a job and doing things on my own - they were all things that brought me to the fearing realization of responsibility and independence, and I've easily worked with those two factors all my life, but never this strong, and without the burdening realization that I would live with those two factors for the rest of my life. This was the real thing here, I mean... Being an adult. I couldn't do chores, drive - hell, I couldn't imagine the fear of waking up and not finding breakfast set out on the table for me already. I couldn't even cook to save my life.