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J A M E S
James' day couldn't have gotten off to a worse start.
Because the resort had opened that summer, there was still construction going on, and it happened to be right next to his lodge. Usually they started work around the time James left for breakfast, at five thirty, but apparently that morning they'd had the brilliant idea to kick it off half an hour earlier.
James had trouble getting out of bed early enough as was-hence why he stacked his cooler with food the previous night, just in case he missed breakfast-but waking up to the noise of construction was a different type of pain.
As he jogged to the cafeteria, arms floppy and lids heavy with sleep, a drop of liquid hit his forehead. It will rain, he thought happily. If the weather turned inclement, the pools would close down, which meant a day off. Before his brain could wander further, he wiped the liquid from his forehead and looked down at his fingers.
It was bird poop.
"Oh, come on," he groaned. He looked up to see a pigeon resting on a lamppost, its big orange eyes blinking down at James. "You think this is funny, do you? How would you like it if I pooped on you?"
"Talking to birds, Prongs?" came Sirius' amused voice behind him. "Well, that's a cry for help."
"Piss off, Sirius."
Sirius laughed and patted James on the back. The two boys started walking towards the cafeteria, breaking the silence with small talk every here and then, when they spotted an older boy striding towards them. His expression was murderous.
"Fuck," muttered Sirius. "Here we go again."
James halted his pace as Griffin Lanz approached, wearing his precious sunglasses and that characteristic frown.
"Where do you two think you're heading?" he drawled. "Breakfast was over five minutes ago."
James' eyes widened. "So you're saying we're only five minutes late?"
"That's a new record," added Sirius.
Griffin's eyebrows pressed together so tightly it looked like he developed a unibrow.
"You think you're funny, don't you?"
"We don't think," Sirius whispered to James. "We know."
"Black, I'm right here!"
Both James and Sirius jumped.
"Yes, sir," said James, straightening his back. "We're, uh, sorry for being late."
"If only all the problems in the world could be fixed by a simple sorry, Potter."
"Well, yeah, that would be nice-"
"Enough!" Griffin took off his sunglasses and shot James a glare. If looks were laser beams, James would be dead in seconds. "If I was the manager, neither of you would spend another minute in this resort. But perhaps a change of environment would teach you to take your job more seriously, wouldn't it? Potter, I want your primary morning shifts to be at the beach. As for you, Black-"
