____________________________ [b]Monday, Spring 1 | 7:10 AM | ☁ [/b] ‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾ As Gaku explained how the whole Eli encounter went, Izzie felt a slight pang of disappointment. Her lips quirked into a slight pout and she inadvertently clicked her tongue. She had hoped there was more to it (a forbidden tryst she's trying to keep secret! an under-the-table job! a mysterious figure from her past had come and she needed Gaku's mad fighting skills to keep her safe but he's too lazy to help!) but she supposed her overactive imagination was getting the better of her once again. Eli was just behaving as usual. It also meant that Izzie was even more determined to get her to open up to them. She will get through to her eventually, of that she was certain; she just needed to find the right way to approach her. Everything she had done so far have all been futile, and she didn't seem any closer to breaking down her walls than when she first started. Perhaps she just wasn't pushing hard enough? Izzie snapped out of her thoughts when Gaku had brought up her late-payment-streak. Her lips twisted into a sheepish grin. Ever since she started lodging at the inn, she hadn't managed to pay the rent in time. Not once. She smirked at thought of holding the record for late payments, ignoring the fact that such an accomplishment wasn't something anyone should be proud of. It's not like she does it on purpose, though. Sometimes, she just can't help herself, and she ends up buying more cakes than her budget allowed. They're just too good! Thinking back on it now, she was pretty lucky she had such a fast metabolism—it crossed her mind more than once that she would have long been overweight if it weren't for that. And… wait, what was she talking about again? Oh, right. Rent. "You might have to wait forever and a day on this one," she joked, winking. "But seriously, I'm still short fifty, so I'll get back to you on that soon." Gaku then pointed out that she was still in her sleepwear, poking fun at her messy state. Izzie looked down at herself, like she had to check whether he was lying, then without missing a beat, she spun around theatrically, as though she was showing off a brand new outfit (the kind that took three paychecks to purchase). "Whaaat? I happen to think I look quite decent right now!" she said as she put her hand on her chest, in a feigned offended manner. "If want real public indecency, you should go talk to Brent." Izzie burst in a fit of giggle as she remembered what she had happened upon just the other day. She didn't think much of Brent's… unusual means of sanitation. It honestly seemed like a pretty fun thing to do, and she just might try it one day. Not everyone seemed as accepting of his habits, though. Izzie could recall the incident clearly. At the time, there was a woman taking a leisurely stroll with her son, following the winding path of the stream to the lake. Izzie was taking her usual route to her grandfather's when a high-pitched scream broke through her eardrums. The source wasn't too difficult to spot. Shrieking louder than she thought possible, the woman had clamped her hands tightly around her son's eyes in a panic. Through some display of miraculous (or possibly just adrenaline-born) strength, the woman picked up her son and practically slung him over her shoulder, then seeing Izzie laughing uncontrollably just a few feet away, the woman pulled her along and carried her away as well. 'Keep your innocence intact!' she kept yelling like a battlecry. She was just about to recount the hilarious incident to Gaku when her eyes caught sight of the antique wooden clock on the wall behind Gaku. 7:10, twenty minutes until her shift! "Oh, crap! I have to go get ready now. Be back later!" Izzie turned and rushed off to the staircase, expertly dodging other residents that blocked her path as she raced to her room. [center]✲[/center] It took her ten minutes flat to finish her morning routine. Izzie sat on her bed as she finished brushing her hair, opting to put it in a high ponytail to save some time. She'd usually take more time to style her hair, but she was running late enough as it is. Walking up to the mirror hanging above her desk, Izzie glanced at her reflection and did a quick check. Rebecca was particularly strict about the uniform, and she had given her enough 'you must look presentable' lectures that it finally stuck with her. Her hair was all set, and she only needed to move the flower scrunchie that held her ponytail slightly to the right, to show off its design. She smoothed out the skirts of her uniform, freshly laundered just the night before, and adjusted the ribbon around the collar so it wasn't skewed. "Alright, good to go!" she told herself, nodding at her reflection in approval. She slipped on her beige Mary Janes and grabbed a small orange messenger bag that had everything she might need for the day. Humming happily, she went back down to the lobby and stopped just long enough to call out a farewell to Gaku. "See you in a bit, Mr. Rockstar!" ____________________________ [b]Monday, Spring 1 | 7:30 AM | ☼ [/b] ‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾ The café was usually empty during the mornings. People stopped by to get their morning fill of coffee and some pastries (today, cinnamon-pecan buns seemed to be the popular choice) to go with it, but they were usually in and out before long, off to start another day of work. Izzie tended to be bored out of her mind during this time. She tried to keep busy, cleaning where it seemed dirty, fussing over the café décor to make them look nicer, but it usually only takes all of fifteen minutes. Rebecca was busy prepping for the lunch rush hour, and she was strictly instructed not to bother her. Izzie volunteered to help in the kitchen once, but she was never allowed back in afterward. Let's just say there was some mix-up with salt and sugar, and if Rebecca ever suffers kidney problems, then it would be entirely her fault. With nothing else to do, Izzie sat at one of the empty round tables facing the café’s entrance and basically stared at the door. She sang to herself as she waited, making up nonsensical lyrics to the catchy melody she heard on the radio just the night before, and wondered whether it would be a slow day today.