Sanity's Edge I

I've been working on this for a while, and I'm really excited to put it out on display. Just to let you know, the characters are in Japan, but I don't speak Japanese fluently (hence, the reason why it's in English). I won't torture you and throw in random bits of Japanese for you to figure out; contrary to what some might believe...I am not mean. Unless, of course, you provoke me. Also, this story is not meant to be (that) serious. It's something I started to let my energy and creativity flow into making something that will make people laugh. So, enjoy, and please review so I know what you do/don't like about Sanity's Edge.

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Sanity's Edge

Kyra

Name: Kyra Addison

Age: 18

Gender: Female

Ethnicity: Japanese-American

Hobbies: Dancing, movies, friends

Previous jobs: Volunteer, model, music band

Why should we hire you?: I have people skills.

         I read over my application critically. I hope that it's okay for me to…ah…tweak the details a little bit. After all, I'm almost 18, just a few days to go. As for friends…not too overwhelmed there. I figure that saying I had done volunteer jobs was good: you can’t turn down someone who is willing to work for nothing. On second thought, maybe I’ll take that off. I need money from work, not wasted time from work. Yeah, I’ll just erase that.

         I wonder if people skills is the right phrase for what they want. I don’t know why they should hire me, I just want a job. Working as a shot-girl sounded fun, so here I am, slaving away at a five page application form.

What made you decide to apply for a job at Illusions?: I love clubs.

         Well, that is true. Being a natural at dancing and partying, clubs are my first choice for nights spent downtown.

How would you deal with a customer who is out of hand?: If by out of hand you mean groping and making perverted comments, then I’d beat him up. If you mean yelling at me and throwing things, then I’d beat him up. If you mean overall aggressive in his actions, I’d beat him up. Oh, and throw him out of the club.

Why have you applied for the position as a shot-girl/bartender at Illusions, and for how long would you like to keep the position?: I love chemistry, and mixing shots sounds like a way for me to use that knowledge. I’d stay a shot-girl for as long as possible.

Have you visited Illusions before?: Yes, actually. It was the first club that I ever visited. I love the vibe and I would love to work there.

How do you think you would be of value to Illusions?: Every club needs a great shot-girl who knows how to make money and mix great-tasting shots. I’m that girl for Illusions.

Final question: If there was any event in the club that seemed abnormal, would you quit?: No way! I’m a tough girl, and I need the money.

         I blink and stare at the last question again. Even though I had written down my answer without any thought, the question itself seemed strange. What could possibly be abnormal in a club that someone couldn’t handle?

         I sigh. Finished, and now I just have to turn it in by…wait…the application form said that it must be turned in by…yesterday??? What kind of crap is that? I was positive that I had two more days to get this thing done, and now the date is wrong!

         Choices, choices. Do I run it to the club and hope against hope that they’ll still take it? Or do I throw it in the trash and grumble over my wasted time? I growl to myself, pushing my chair backwards and leaping out of it in a wobbly jump. I check my reflection in the mirror, thankful that I didn’t look too bad for having stayed up late last night and gotten up early.

         I throw open my closet doors in a rush, yanking the hangars off and examining the clothes critically. Something fit for a club…but professional as well…oh, who cares anyway??? No time for professional now, I have to go! Hopefully a nice pair of jeans and heels will work. Aha! Perfect shirt to go with that jacket…Where’d I put those shoes? Come on, black stilettos, black stilettos…YES! Okay, go go go go! I was out the door within ten minutes. Whew…I jump into the car and insert the key, turning it hurriedly, expecting the familiar sputter of the engine. Nothing.

         “NO!” I wail. I had to get to Illusions! It’s my best shot at getting a steady job without having to sit behind a desk and slave away at paperwork. I growl and pound on the dashboard, and then turn the key again. YES! IT WORKS! I sped off in pursuit  of a new job.

         I got there in record time. No bouncer, but it was morning. I hope the manager would be there, or else I am going to have to wait. I follow signs that led to the main office, and open a wooden door with a sticky note that reads INTERVIEWS. I hope it is the right place, and if it is, I hope that there won’t be too many applicants…

         Empty. Completely, totally, startlingly empty. Ooooh…the applications were due yesterday…of course there wasn’t anybody here. Duh. But wait…even though the forms had been due yesterday…I squint at the papers in my hand…the interviews were scheduled for today…So where is everybody? I feel lost as I sit in a chair, glancing around in search of people. A coughing sound comes from behind the desk, and I turn my head sharply to see…

         Wow. Now he is hot. Oooh boy. I stare at him unabashedly as his dark brown eyes settle on me. Now I know that I absolutely HAVE to work here.


Adam

         Whoa. I was startled to see huge violet eyes gazing at me in the otherwise empty room. Surprisingly, no one has showed up for the interviews…except her. Now, I have seen many girls at the club (all of which had typically fallen in love with me), but I’d had no interest in any of them. This one, whoever she was, seems different. Dressed to kill, she’s wearing jeans that were frayed on the bottom hems, and a tight black tank underneath a blood red fitted jacket. My eyes traveled down her crossed legs and saw the spiky black stilettos. Perfect. She speaks first, amazingly. Usually girls don’t get the nerve to talk to me; I suppose they’re intimidated by my good looks.

         “Hi. I’m here for the job interview…if you’re still taking them, that is,” her voice is sweet, but not overly so. Wait…job interview? You mean she didn’t send me a flirtatious comment? Not normal. I force myself to remain calm. Just because she didn’t start flirting right away doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you, I assure myself. I look at her with a smile on my face.

         “Yeah, sure. You’re actually the only one to show up. I’m not supposed to be the interviewer, but the manager left and told me to hire whoever I want. Do you really want to go through with a boring interview, or should I just hire you on the spot?”

         Her mouth drops open, and I swear, it’s the cutest thing I have ever seen. She looks so shocked that I have to laugh.

         “I guess that means you want the job?” I say in between chuckles. She lets out a squeal and throws some papers on the ground. She looks at me gleefully.

         “No more stupid paperwork!” she exclaims, and with that, comes running up to me and hugs me. Now, I’ll tell you, this is not the first time I have been hugged like this. But it is the first time that I actually felt something. Not something sexual, surprisingly. More like a strong connection, somehow…

         “Oh my god! I just can’t believe it! I GOT THE JOB!” she yells out happily, beginning to dance around the room. Normally, I would have turned away and never looked at the girl again, but this just made me bust up. A sudden halt in noise made me look back at her, a huge smile on my face.

         “Uh…sorry about that. I’m Kyra Addison, the new shot-girl!” she beams, walking up to me again and sticking out a small hand. I shake it, looking down at her curiously.

         “Shot-girl, huh? I guess you’ll be helping me then,” I grin.

         “Oh, are you the bartender or something?” she asks. I nod.

         “Yup. I’m going to be your boss,” I say, watching those violet eyes sparkle.

         “Okay! When do I start?” she asks, shifting onto the other foot.

         “Is tonight okay with you?” I ask quickly, unwilling to wait to see her again. She beams up at me.

         “Yeah!”

         “Be here at eleven-thirty, that’s when we open. But uh…do you want to grab some lunch with me before you go…wherever you go?”

         Her smile lights up the room.

         “Sure. What are you thinking?”

         “Maybe Mexican?” I suggest, racking my mind for adequate food places.

         “Mmm…I know this is going to sound cheap, but I love Taco Bell,” she says, looking at me hopefully. I grin.

         “Sounds good. Let’s go.”

         I follow her out to the front, and stop when she starts to get in her car.

         “Oh…do you want to meet there, or do you need a ride?” she asks, and I decide that my car probably won’t impress her.

         “I’ll take a ride,” I answer, smiling when she starts the car and revs it up. Decent-sounding engine, at least. Hopefully it won’t break down…although, that may be all the better for me.

         Within minutes we are speeding down the highway, with Kyra singing along with some punk band on the radio. With a squeal of tires, Kyra pulls sharply into the fast-food parking lot, slips the key out and puts it in her purse. She smiles at me, a dazzling white-toothed smile that leaves me breathless.

         “Ready?”