01 | Philophobia ✓

𝐎𝐧𝐞

SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA | THURSDAY FEBRUARY 14TH, 2019
_________

VALENTINE'S DAY FELT very different this year-round, more...out there. At least this is what ran through the mind of Scarlett as she walked to work. The setting sun seemed to softly kiss her skin which created a warmth in the young raven-haired girl. And despite the lovely weather, Scarlett couldn't be bothered to put a smile on her face even though she loved her job. At least, till she got there.

She wasn't a fan of this day. To her it was a nuisance and she'd much rather stay in her cozy one-bedroom loft but, like the irony that enjoyed accompanying her on this specific day, the girl also made a lot of money.

Working at a bar, Scarlett made most of her money on tips which meant turning on the charm and laying it on extra thick. Playing the game with heartbreakers and singles alike. The end of the day cash count would be worth the extra work.

Every Valentine's Day since she moved to San Diego had been the same. The familiar faces of street vendors were etched with smiles as they waited for lovesick people to come in and splurge hundreds of dollars on things that wouldn't last a day. Flowers, chocolates, stuffed bears that said the words, 'I love you' on them.

A complete waste, she thought as she walked past them. Funny how almost the entire world would be putting so much thought into something that would only last 24 hours.

Yes, it sounded as cliche as it came but she just couldn't try to like it. Maybe it was because she had never actually been in a relationship all twenty-three years of her life or because she couldn't understand how one day could dictate so much in one's life. Most likely the latter.

Nothing and no one could convince her that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't as bad as she's allowed herself to believe it was.

Scarlett was set in her ways. It wasn't denial, not on her end. Just, hard hitting reality; no person was worth all that effort when they'd just fuck you over in the end.

A few blocks from the place she worked, was a small mom and pop restaurant she was all too familiar with. The owners were the only family-adjacent thing she had since she'd moved here on her own.

Henry, the co-owner was standing out front writing specials from the menu on the chalk stand. Right before she could part her red stained lips to speak up, his head turned slightly and his eyes met hers. A loving smile adorned his aging face, "Miss Scarlett."

She shook her head and smiled. Scarlett could never get him to address her while omitting the miss but she didn't say anything anymore. She had grown to love the once mediocre nickname. "Hey Henry, good afternoon."

"Hello my dear," his hands rub against each other. Remnants of white residue from the chalk dusting off on impact. "Headed to work?" Scarlett grinned.

"I am," her arms cross over her chest. "How's the leg?" She pondered upon seeing him wear a brace over his knee. Two weeks ago, Henry had fallen in the garden at home and was put on bed rest by his doctors. He was actually supposed to be home now.

"Oh," he waves her off. His gentle laugh warming her soul as it flooded her ear canals. "I'm as strong as an ox, I'm fine dear."

"I'm sure your doctors wouldn't like to know that their patient isn't listening. I don't want you to get hurt," she speak truly. That scare had effect her too. His wife had called her sick to her stomach and Scarlett even left work early to meet her at the hospital.

Because they were the nearest thing to blood she had, it wasn't easy seeing Henry in that state. Fear overtook her for a bit after that. Constant house or call check ins would soon keep her heart still and incessant worry at bay.