Cold Skin, Hot Scales: Chapter 2
Story by Nyastella on SoFurry
Woohooo! While my FA fans have been waiting for this underwhelming chapter for over a year, you guys only got to ponder for three weeks! :D
Anyway MAN did I freakin' HATE writing this chapter. I think i'm really awful at slice of life and even though I wanted to make this chapter "boring"/"filler" (to show how much the protagonist's life as a human guy is garbage), my brain just blocked way too hard on this. So yeah, unfortunately, a pretty short piece.
But this time I really hope to push out the next chapter faster. Unless I get swarmed by commissions again, it might go better? :'D
In any case, even though this chapter is entirely SFW I still put it on extreme, because it's part of the whole CSHS project which is gonna be very much intense.
Lots of swearing in this one. Oh, and also, I can't believe I forgot to mention it before, but our protagonist's name (as a human) is Alex Kelio.
CSHS & Story © Me
“That’ll be twenty-two bucks and thirty-six cents.”
I look at the customer as they bring out their change. After what feels like forever of counting their money, I grab the four bills and bazillion coins, counting everything carefully before slotting it in their respective spots in the cash register.
“Thanks for your purchase, have a nice day!”
The moment they’re out, I slump against the counter. Geez, being a cashier in a gas station sucks ass. I don’t know what’s the worst part: whether I have to do this day job, or the fact I earn so little with both my day and night shifts that I can barely afford rent. Though my job as a dragon stripper is definitely a lot more… “interesting” than not being able to sit anywhere else other than a dirty counter for like five hours.
Not that I can deal with my night job anymore… After yesterday’s fiasco, I feel too scared to come back tonight. What would everybody think of me there? I’m sure they probably won’t even miss me tonight. Fuck, I kinda wonder what I did last night. I hope it wasn’t too embarrassing. What if I flipped off clients? Or something worse?... I bet if I come back I’m just gonna be told I’m fired or something.
The day drags on, and on, and on. I look at the clock hanging on a wall on the other side of this godforsaken piece of hellspace; each second goes by painstakingly slowly. Despite the awful, outdated music lazily oozing out of the speakers, I can hear every single tick of the needle in my head. This stupid cramped space is unbearably hot, too. I wouldn't really have any problems as "other me" , but I'm currently a sweaty mess, which only makes this whole experience all the more pleasant.
With a job like this, I get plenty of time for existential crises. You get to wonder things like “Is this really all there is to life?” or “Am I missing out?” and to be quite honest the list is so long I’ve stopped counting. It’s kind of become some sort of dumb routine, trying to think of something, anything that could get my mind off the stupid purgatory that this place is. Can you believe I have to do this five days a week? The worst part is really how much of a no fun zone this is. I actually have to stand there doing fuck all without any freakin’ kind of pass time. Do you have any idea how hard it is to look busy for five--
“Excuse me, young man?”
Shit. Customer. Work face, work face! Focusing my gaze leaves me staring right at a tiny old lady. She's trembling on her cane, to the point it's kind of a wonder she can stand. Though it's not really a surprise or anything; you see all kinds of people at the gas station.
“Can I help you with anything, Ma'am ?”
“I have no idea where I am; do you have any map I could get a look at ?”
It takes me a second to process what she’s asking for. Who even still uses maps in this day and age?
“Do… You not have a-- a phone?”
“Oh, you know how it is,” she waves me off with a chuckle, “I never know how to use those silly things. There are so many confusing buttons and it never works the way you want it and so on and so on!”
Wow. Lucky me. Having a prime living fossil as a client. I’m not even sure we even have maps for sale. Should they even cost anything? Like. Freakin’ EVERYBODY has maps! Except the people who don’t have phones I guess.
“Just-- I-- Give me a moment please.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
At least, she’s not being a whiny, self-entitled bitch. God, don’t even get me started on those. They’re like, my villain origin story. If I had a dollar for every thing I got bitched on about I wouldn’t actually be working here. It doesn’t take me too long to find the maps, either. In hindsight, it makes sense; not everybody can afford a phone. It even makes me feel a bit silly for considering that. Makes you realize how many things you take for granted, huh.
A quick dip through the tiny, claustrophobic aisles and I'm back behind the counter, plopping the nearly folded map down.
“Here ya go, Ma'am. That'll be two and a half.”
“Ah, wonderful !”
She rummages through her tiny handbag, pulling out an even more minuscule wallet, from which she grabs the owed money, coin after coin after coin after-- oh my god it's one of those people. I swear if I wasn't so internally annoyed she could've put me to sleep. But! Of course, as a cashier, I can do none of that and instead gotta make sure the count is correct. And I have to painstakingly go through every single one of those damned coins. Two fifty, just as expected— but if it hadn't been, I would've been murdered by my boss.
“Perfect ! Here's your map, and have a nice day !”
“Thank you very much ! Take care, sweet thing !”
She grabs her prize and turns around to leave, muttering something to herself, not that I really care. All I really care about is leaving this hellhole, to be quite honest.
But I can’t! I’m stuck here. Like every other day, the way I have been for months now. I have to wallow in agony, roaming around this too small hellhole, keeping an eye out for products that are out of place because some lazy fuck couldn’t be bothered to spend three more seconds of their pathetic life making things less of a stupid mess of this place!
Some days, it really takes everything I have in me not to scream. To cry, to break things out of anger, to… keep up the façade. It’s hard, so hard. I’d even make a sex joke, but I’m so, so tired. This stuff erodes my sanity on the daily. It’s always been like this but for some reason… It feels even more unbearable since I’ve discovered another way to live. My heart aches to be this other self, blooming far, far away from the uninhabitable wasteland that is this current life. It feels crazy, too, to think that it’s only been this way for about a month. It feels like such a short time and yet, I miss my hidden side like it has been taken away from me for years.
It takes forever, as it always does, but at long last, my shift is over. We’re in the middle of summer, so it’s still broad daylight when I walk out with my stuffed backpack, more than ready to go home. But I have to go through the fifth circle of hell, also known as public transportation. It’s another of the many wonderful experiences I have to go through during my day job, with all the added perks and benefits. Rude asshole that shoves everybody to get in a packed bus? Check. Annoying baby that shrieks and wails for the whole trip? Check. Dumbass that shouts into their phone because they have no sense of personal space? Big check! I would honestly go on but the list takes so long my trip would probably be over before I’m done complaining.
But that’s what I do. Complain internally, a lot of the time, because I can never say what’s on my mind. Too many consequences. I’m just another cog in the machine. Your average employee nobody cares about. I don’t really have any friends. I live in a simple flat, like most people like me do, I guess. When I come home, there’s nobody to greet me. It’s just me against the world.
Yep, just me. But I’ll be damned if, every single time I got back, I didn’t think: Home, sweet home.