One Bloody Meal To Go

This written lore came to me much quicker than the others, and for reasons you will soon come to read! These flashes into a character's life really gets my inspiration going, and it's nice to shift from scriptwriting to this kind of storytelling. 

I have another written lore in the works, but I'm currently unsure how to continue that, so I changed to our starboy, Elias! Thanks to all of your input during the livestream, I'm going to aim for 1k words per lore, but if it goes over (like this one did), then it goes over!

Also, I hope you enjoy the new format!

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Elias adjusted the grey and yellow hat, scowling at the rotund manager plodding to the back office with phone in hand. Greg already had a problem with his new tattoo, and now his cap was too angled? What bullshit.

“You love testing him, don’tcha?” Lucia said with a laugh, casually cracking her knuckles.

“Because I like when he’s a little bitch.” He lounged against the counter, flicking the McDonald’s bags back and forth while he waited for another order. “You know there’s a thing called ‘discrimination’, right?”

Lucia rolled her dark brown eyes and joined him at the collection point. “And there’s also a thing called ‘etiquette’.”

Elias squinted at her. “He has none. He thinks that just because he’s the boss, he gets to do whatever the fuck he wants, dictating what we can and can’t show, bla bla. Like, has he said anything to you about your trainers?”

They both looked down. Lucia flexed her foot, and the Gucci logo gleamed in its expensive glory. Humming in thought, she cocked her head, revealing a sliver of her tattoo. It looked like a vine, but Elias wondered where it ended. Did it curl around her shoulder and end there, or maybe snake across her deep bronze skin like how nature coiled around timeless statues? 

Lucia exceeded them in every way. Too bad she had a boyfriend. 

“No. Maybe he likes me.” She grimaced, but shrugged her shoulders. “He gives me an extra ten minutes at lunch, and when there’s too much staff, he asks me if I wanna go home.”

Elias’ brows shot up. “He does?” He let out a scoff, shaking his head. “Well, fuck me.” 

He didn’t envy Lucia’s position. To be gawked at by the same middle-aged creep who stared far too long at students during the high school rush… He shuddered in disgust. If the manager was actually decent—which was rare as fast-food places go—he would’ve considered making more effort. 

Instead, the man upturned his lip during the interview, questioned his expressive ink, and droned on about the unhygienic practice of piercings. Like fuck was he going to show him the ‘McDonald’s spirit’. He’d show him the middle finger instead.

“You gonna stay here until the semester starts?” Elias asked.

“Probably. If I go back home, I could technically travel back here, but I don’t know if it’s going to be worth it.” 

His father would likely force him to stay for ‘experience’. Time passed quicker here than studying, and at least he could snack for free while he worked. The golden goodness tempted him after every fresh batch; Brennie’s slaps on the arm were worth every delectable fry.

“Nah. You might as well find a better job closer to you when you start studying. You don’t want him to bring up a promotion or being his assistant or something.”

Lucia’s face twisted in distaste, causing Elias to laugh as he gestured over to the tall man walking over. She painted on her professional smile and strode over to the kiosk, greeting him with beaming enthusiasm. 

He didn’t know how she did it. 

At least they both ended their shift in one more hour, which meant sneaking out a goodie-bag and lounging with some YouTube videos. VSauce’s new episode dropped, and the thought of sinking into space theories had Elias holding back an excited smile.

Lucia turned to him as he pulled out a medium takeout bag. “Eli, can you get some more ranch sauces?”

“You alright to hold the fort?” The next customer seemed patient enough, but the guy she just served? Not so much. 

“Yeah, yeah. Can you ask David to take over?”

Elias set down the bag, pivoting to the drinks station to peek around the corner.

“Hey, David?”

The meek guy snapped his head to Elias like a petrified deer, frozen mid-wipe of the counter. Even though they both just graduated school, he felt an odd need to protect him. It was only David’s second day, but he was harmless.

“Could you pack a few orders while I get something from the back?”

David peered at the screen above the milkshakes and nodded, placing the cloth neatly into its holder. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll be quick.” Elias clapped him on the shoulder with a grin and headed to storage, weaving through the other workers. Those desperate for money and independence worked around this time, so he seldom wondered why they shared the same age bracket.

Elias opened the heavy door, inhaling the fresher air despite its lack of ventilation. Summer had already peaked, and he embraced any cool air, no matter how old. He made swift work of sliding fingers over boxes, reading the labels until he found the ranch stash. If he pocketed a couple in here, Greg would be none the wiser. 

Smirking, he tore off the seal and grabbed a handful, dividing them in between his hands and slotting them inside both pockets. “Fuck you, Greg.”

Even if the bastard found out, the man was all talk. But a fast-food manager with an ego trip said more about him than any words could.

With pride, Elias tucked the box under his arm and sauntered out. But as he closed the door, a raised voice boomed; it didn’t sound like the manager or any other male worker. Cautious, he jogged through the stations, craning his head to the front counter like everyone else had.

“—when I specifically ordered it with no salt?”

Lucia stuttered, seeking out her stunned colleagues for help. Their eyes met.

The tall man from before clicked his fingers to retain Lucia’s attention. “How thick can you be to get ‘no salt’ wrong? Did you not hear what I said?”

“I… I read out your order and emphasised ‘no salt’, sir—”

He brandished a stiff finger at her. “You’re the one who took my order, so you’re the one who should make sure everything’s good enough.”

Lucia took a step back. “Sir, that’s not how it wor—”

The customer dumped his paper bag on the counter and ripped it open, broadening his shoulders; and Elias recognised that stance of intimidation. He pushed through with haste and slammed the sauce box down, earning a glare from the man. 

He fucking hated customers who carried around a God complex because ‘the customer is always right’. Whoever made that deserved to work a less than minimum wage job with assholes howling demands.

Elias dryly smiled. “We sincerely apologise for the mix-up, sir. We can give you a free burger and unsalted fries to—”

“Who the fuck are you?” the man spat. “I’m talking to her.” He leant forward to emphasise his towering height. Elias held back a scoff and grasped the counter edge with both hands, widening his arms to shield Lucia while meeting the same lean. He didn’t care if this guy had a few inches on him. Height meant nothing in a fight.

“No, you look at me,” Elias said, and blazing blue eyes widened at him. “She didn’t make your order. What gives you the right to talk to her like that?”

The man scrunched his eyebrows. “What gives you the right to talk to a customer like that?”

“Because you’re a prick, that’s why.”

A couple of workers snickered behind him, causing Elias to smirk as the customer’s jaw fell.

He raised his head in defiance. “Where’s the manager? I want to report your behaviour right now.”

Elias chuckled. “Go right ahead.” He whipped back. “Hey, someone get Greg.”

“I’ll go get him,” Lucia said. Maybe he’d get off with a light punishment if Lucia explained the situation—as disgusting as that was. 

But before she managed a few steps, the man reached forward, attempting to grab her arm. “No, you stay here—”

Elias swatted the man away. “Don’t fucking try to put your hands on her!”

“Someone else can get the manager!”

He glanced back at her, and then to the kitchen. There was no manager in sight; normally, commotions summoned them quicker than closing time. As much as Greg sucked as a person, Elias couldn’t deny his stellar customer service skills.

“Go get him,” he whispered, offering Lucia a reassuring smile that she mimicked, albeit lighter.

She didn’t deserve this backlash. None of them did. And judging from David’s cowering body and forlorn expression, he must have been the one responsible. But this was Elias’ fault for asking someone untrained to do it.

Lucia only made it to the collection point before the man snarled. “Don’t you walk away from me!” He snatched the fries and flung them at her. The workers and onlookers gasped in unison as the carton hit Lucia’s face, and the fries sprinkled every which way. Her eyes darted around the room, and she stood there, mortified.

What a waste. Fuck this guy.

Elias slapped a palm down on the metal surface and vaulted over the counter. His clenched hand flew forward and into the man’s face, knocking him back with a startled grunt. The bag dropped, and a fudge sundae spilled over the scattered pieces of Big Mac. This guy complained about salt content, but not the clogged arteries he’d get with that order.

Maybe he needed energy, as the oncoming fist—an easy dodge—was replied with a swift punch to the gut. The man lurched, and Elias drove his knee upwards, right into the gritted mouth. He wasn’t sure if the crack was his joint or the guy’s teeth, but he didn’t care to check.

Instead, he shoved the screaming customer who stumbled over his own feet and collapsed, clutching his face in agony. Splatters of blood dotted the tiled floor along with a couple of ranch sauces, and Elias scoffed in amusement to it all. People liked to talk big until confronting an opponent who could knock them down a peg or two.

The sound of wailing children and adult chatter fizzled through the haze of his pulsing heart. Elias finally looked up. His coworkers stared at him in silent awe, and some offered a clap or a slow nod of approval. Then he turned his head. The customers nearest seemed impressed, and those further away held up phones that no doubt recorded the dull fight.

He was so getting fired for this. Well, whatever. 

Fuck this job.