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Some stories are sad. Some, happy. This one is both. This story is of a raccoon, Chris, and a fox. Their story starts now.

Chris

I still remember when I moved out from my parents' house. I was so excited to get out and live my life. Now though, it's just quiet. Tiring. I own an apartment on the second story of the apartment block. It's small, but it's enough to live with. I work a dead-end job at a department store. I go around assisting the customers with whatever they need and I restock the shelves. It pays alright, but it's a sad job to work at.

I spend most of my days the same way; waking up and getting a shower, eating some toast for breakfast, and heading to work. I don't really remember how long I've been doing this, as the days sort of blend together. Sometimes I wake up on my day off and never even manage to get out of bed. I'm used to this. One day was different though.

I woke up to my alarm, and started my daily routine. It was the same as any other day. I ate some toast, and biked off to work. I couldn't afford a car, but thankfully my work was close enough that I didn't need one. Because I bike to work, I'm in pretty good shape. I'm not decked out in muscle, but I'm not weak either. I'm a little on the short side, but I'm used to that. Soon, I could see the store up ahead.

I clocked in and got to work. I don't often work with many co-workers. I know the cashier, Sasha, but she keeps to herself. I only see my manager every other week, when he stops in to make sure we're still working. So it's usually up to me to keep myself entertained. We don't get many customers, but it's apparently enough to keep this place running, somehow. It's a fairly large building, but it's never had any sale I knew of, or lowered it's prices.

Since we rarely see customers, I busy myself with counting the tiles on the floor, or drawing shapes on the popcorn ceiling with my eyes. Until the lights hurt my eyes and I look away. I also spend a lot of time zoning out and pacing, often daydreaming too. On my days off when I actually got up, I would often go to the library. I would stay there from opening till closing, just reading about incredible tales, knowing I would never be part of them. Still, I could dream. So I dreamed, day and night, awake or asleep.

While I was dreaming of saving the princess, or fighting off bad guys, I didn't watch where I was going. I walked into something solid, and it tipped over. I quickly came back to the real world, and saw that I had walked into a shopping cart and pushed it over, spilling its contents. And the person driving it was not happy.

"What the hell! Watch where you're going!" He yelled out while I tried to apologize. "I'm so sorry sir, let me help you," Was what I said, picking up the spilled contents of the cart. It was while picking them up that I saw him. He was a fox, somewhat tall and with a toned body. He looked pissed that I had messed up his cart. He was also a little scary looking. "No, let me do it." He said, exasperated.

I still helped him regardless but now he was helping too. He had paint in his cart, which didn't break open thankfully, along with a paintbrush. I felt awkward enough that I tried starting up a conversation. "So, uh, are you trying to paint?" I asked hesitantly, still a little intimidated. He looked up at me and stared for a bit and said "No, I only got the paint so I could drink it. Of course I'm painting. Why else would I get paint?" I was taken aback, but something told me to keep trying. "Sorry, that was dumb of me. Are you painting your room?" This time he paused before answering." No, It's just an errand I have to run." He sighed. I knew the feeling all too well. When the manager stopped by, I was always the errand boy. It was always "Fetch me some beer Chris!" or "Restock the shelves Chris!"

I smiled grimly at the fox." I'm guessing you're running it for someone else?" He blinked in surprise." Is it that obvious?" He asked, his ears tilting down a little. "Not really, I just know the feeling well." He chuckled a bit, before replying "Fair enough. Do they make you fetch paint too?" He asked jokingly. "Sometimes they do, actually. We do sell paint here after all." He looked a little embarrassed that his joking remark was actually right. Damn he's cute, was the first thought that entered my mind. What the hell? Why is that what I thought of? I mean, I suppose he's not bad looking, but he's a guy! I didn't have time to dwell on this longer, because he was already talking again.

We talked for a while, just making small talk and cracking jokes. I learned that he liked to play tennis in his spare time. I told him about the books I was reading. After a while, we realized that his cart was long since filled again and we were just talking. As I realized this, I felt my cheeks warm a little. "Heh, guess we got a little carried away." He blinked, before looking at the full cart. "Oh!" he said in surprise. "Yeah, I guess we did." Now he was a little embarrassed.

"Anyway, I won't keep you any longer." I said. "Yeah, I guess I should go." He answered. We stood still for a bit, neither of us moving. It occurred to me then. "I never got your name." I asked quickly. He smiled and replied, "I'm Trent." "Chris," I said quickly. He chuckled and replied "Well, I hope I'll see you later Chris." He went off to go check out, and I stood there for a bit until he left. It was then I realized my heart was hammering in my chest.

Trent

My days are often quite sad, really. I try to remove the boredom by taking walks and playing sports, but realistically, that doesn't change much. My name is Trent, and I work at my father's company. My old man wasn't ever particularly kind to me, but he wasn't mean either, just...distant. My mom was the kindest woman I knew, and she more than made up for my dad's distance. I try not to think of her much anymore.

My dad owns a medium-sized company that owns a few department stores across the state. I "work" at his company, though all I really do is just do errands and clean. Still, my dad does pay me and I can put it on my resume as an internship at a decently sized company. Although, there is one thing my dad constantly wants to talk to me about.

My family has a long heritage of being a pure-bred fox family. As such, my dad desperately wants me to continue this bloodline and marry another fox. He won't often shut up about it the few times I actually see him. Every conversation he has with me that's not work related can be summed up as such: "You'll be the next in this lineage son. You will further our pure legacy of great leaders and minds." It sounds like praise, but it really doesn't feel like it.

He never even bothered to consider what I wanted. Hell, he even came as close as he could to arranging a marriage between me and a girl I don't know all that well. Thankfully, I talked him out of it, in the conclusion that I would marry her in my own time. Yet I don't even like girls, but I definitely can't tell him that. Yeah, it's a lot to wrestle with. I take my mind off it by playing tennis and working. Except one of these errands was different.

It started the same way most of my jobs did. My dad, well, his assistant told me that he needed paint for a renovation they were doing to a break room. I, of course, had to get the paint and brush. I'm not really supposed to shop at my dad's stores, but they're the closest ones around.

I walked in after grabbing a cart and starting looking around for paint. After some searching, I finally found the paint. I then realized that I wasn't told what color paint to get. I grimaced at my lack of forethought earlier. Of course I need to know the color, it's paint! Still, I needed to do something. After some thought, I decided to get a simple gray color, and in case they wanted something else, I had a very light blue. I did spend quite a bit of time deciding what to get though, so I was hurrying to the register. As I turned a corner however, someone walked into my cart, spilling all it's contents on the floor.

The cart assailant was a flustered looking raccoon, who looked pretty embarrassed. "Watch where you're going!" Was my first response. Immediately after, I realized I probably raised my voice a bit too much, because he looked pretty scared. He immediately stammered out an apology that I couldn't understand because it was too quiet, and started to pick up the paint cans. I felt a bit bad for scaring him, so I told him that I would do it, but he didn't listen.

He ended up starting some small talk, and we talked for a while. I learned that he was a bit nerdy, and worked here as a sort of customer assistant. While we were talking, however, I found myself looking at him more than the paint cans. When we finished putting up the paint cans, neither of us realized we were done and we kept talking. After a while, his face reddened and he pointed out that the cart was long since full again. I could feel myself blush a little too.

Crap, I'm probably late already, were my second thoughts when he mentioned the cart. My first thoughts, however, were disappointed that we had to stop talking. After giving a brief goodbye, I went off towards the cash register. Before I could make it there, however, he stopped me. "I never got your name," he asked. I told him my name was Trent and he told me his was Chris. I smiled at him and walked off to the register, wondering if I might be able to make an excuse later to come back here again.