Work Text:
Pico just loved his life, oh, he did. The pouring rain ruining his hair and clothes, walking to his potentially fourth job this year. Oh, he just loved it.
Yeah, no. This shit blows.
This very much life-loving Pico is a twenty-year-old high school dropout, hopping between jobs. Let's just say he has a personally high turnover rate. Or that he’s walked out of and been fired from enough places, he’s nearly running out of hands.
Really, he was tired of all this, but what else could he do in this economy? The next option was to curl up and die. Unfortunately for everyone around him, he is still running strong on spite, and would not be dying anytime soon.
Anyway. Here he was at a brand new job opportunity. A bakery in the middle of the town’s plaza.
He couldn’t go too much lower than this, at least.
He quickly checked himself in the reflection of the closed building next door. His bright orange hair, normally somewhat puffy, was now sopping wet, reaching to his green pullover. Despite the clouded skies, he noticed his skin was still a vibrant pale, his freckles also making no effort to hide today. What did match the sky was his gray eyes, the bags under them also being a nice complement to the look. He wasn’t a fan of his appearance, but he also wasn’t the type to go through drastic measures to change it. He’s always dealt with the cards he was… dealt.
He took a deep breath. It’s just a bakery, and yes, it may be somewhat fruity, but like, so was he. Pico’s only concern is his lack of baking experience, but he makes some pretty mean ramen, so it can’t be too much different.
He felt for his carry-on in his pocket (his personal safety protocol) before walking into the sweet shop, a little bell chime announcing his presence. The cashier peered at him for a moment before returning to the bustling environment that invaded the small place.
He waited in line, not sure of what else to do. He had called beforehand, in which a male voice told him to stop in. It was just awkward, not really knowing who to talk to. He never caught the phone person's name either. Even after all his past jobs, he still never got the hang of this part-
“Uhm, next?”
Oh!
The cashier looked at him expectantly. Pico instantly noticed their bright blue hair and their big black eyes. They had on a faded pink apron over their outfit, and sported a red snapback worn backwards. They had to be at least a couple of inches shorter than him and…
Dude, lock in.
“Yeah, uh, I’m here for an interview, I think?”
“Oh! Let me grab my boss.” The blue-haired cashier stepped away, opening a side door before shouting, “AYO bossman c’mere!!”
Pico’s ears only hurt a lot, and they were like, ten feet from each other.
“What was your name, by the way?”
“Oh, it’s Pico.”
The cashier smiled. “Cool. Mine is-”
Just then, the supposed bossman walked in, and okay, sick, the guy is purple. Along with glowing red eyes, the man walked over to him. Pico wasn’t intimidated like the nearby customers seemed to be. Plus, the guy was also wearing a pink apron.
The guy stood in front of him for a moment. Should Pico have tried to speak first…?
“You’re hired.”
Huh???
“...Sweet.”
Next thing Pico knew, he was at the counter wearing his own pink apron.
The blue-haired cashier spoke, “Alright, so since we’re slammed, I’m gonna give you a quick crash-course of the register. Sound good?”
Pico nodded and gave an affirming “mhm.”
Pico has worked on register at other jobs, so it wasn’t anything too new for him. Still, he let the kid go through everything they thought was important while also helping customers. Pico didn’t pay much attention. He thought more about how this cashier got their hair so damn Hatsune-Miku blue. He hasn’t seen anything like it in a while, he thought it was nice.
As soon as cashier training was deemed finished, the kid just up and left. Okay so fuck this guy apparently.
Pico proceeded to do his best to fulfill every (stupid) order. Other than getting confused at some of the button placements on the thing, working the register wasn’t too hard. That’s what he told himself to get through it, anyway. The customers weren’t terrible, he was just annoyed at them for existing at this very moment and making his new job already more overwhelming than a bakery job should be.
When the rush of people was finally gone, Pico had not only felt relief, but that someone was behind him-
He turned around and tried his best to suppress a scream (whatever noise came out still wasn’t great), and behind him were the bossman, the traitor-for-leaving-him-blue-haired cashier, and someone wearing an expensive-looking red turtle-neck sweater. They looked to be around the same age as him and the cashier, but significantly taller. They were very pretty, but their face looked smug and stupid. Same with the cashier, really.
The bossman smiled at him, showing off his big, sharp teeth. “Good job today, Pico.”
Pico blinked a couple of times. “Thanks, uh…”
Pico glanced over to the guy’s apron, spotting a little name tag.
Luis.
That was the funniest shit Pico has ever seen.
“Thank you, Luis.”
He chuckled, “Oh please, Luis was my father's name. You can call me just call me Daddy Dearest.”
Oh, no, thank you.
Pico nodded politely anyway.
“Nevertheless,” he pointed to the cashier, “this is Boyfriend-”
“Dude, stop. That’s literally my Soundcloud handle.”
Luis chuckled and slapped the poor kid’s back. “All jokes aside, this is Keith, the cashier. We do not trust him in the kitchen, so do try your best to keep him out of there.”
Pico gave a nod before smirking at Keith, “Hey, Boyfriend. Where’d you leave to, anyway?”
Keith looked over towards Luis. “Not the kitchen? My bad, shouldn’t have left you like that.”
“Or have been in the kitchen,” Luis bit.
“I said I was not in the kitchen.”
Luis sighed. “Anyway, this here is my wonderful daughter, Lillian. She helps out with the baking sometimes and… yeah, that’s about all she does.”
She smiled. “I mostly just hang out.”
“Pico, while you seem to already have the hang of working the counter, you don’t seem too passionate about it, do you?”
Did I make it that noticeable? “I mean, it doesn’t really matter-”
“How would you like to try your hand at some baking?”
Pico felt his face burn. For some reason, being a baker seemed embarrassing, but then he remembered where he was. A bakery.
“Alright, yeah.”
Luis smiled and patted Pico’s back, “Lillian and I will show you around the kitchen. Keith, you stay out here.”
Pico wondered if this job would last long. Either way, he felt like he might have some fun at a job for once.