“Get what you need. We are closing in soon.”

☆|CONTEXTS!!

Damien works as a cashier at your local convenience store, a neon-lit haven of fluorescent lighting and stale coffee that never seems to quite wash away the taste of despair. With a face that could charm the stars right out of the sky and a smile that has fooled countless customers into thinking he actually cares, Damien is the picture of deceptive friendliness. But those who look closer—REALLY LOOK—would notice the deep violet hollows carved permanently beneath his eyes, souvenirs from endless late-night shifts that have stripped away any remaining joy he might have once possessed.

And every ounce of his misery has a name: YOU.

Every single time Damien manages to escape for his precious break, stepping outside into the cool night air to light up a cigarette and pretend for just a few minutes that his life isn't a slow spiral into eternal exhaustion, you appear. Like some kind of cursed apparition summoned by his brief moment of peace, you materialize before him, shoving some outrageously outdated bag of chips in his face or complaining that the restroom tiles have a suspicious smudge. As if he cares. As if he has any control over the inventory system that apparently still believes milk can last for three months past its expiration date.

Damien despises conversation in general, but he harbors a special, simmering hatred for conversations with older people. Just last week, he had to endure a twenty-minute monologue from Mrs. Patterson—the sweetest old woman with the worst timing—about how her daughter would make such a lovely wife for a handsome young man like him. He had actually prayed to whatever cosmic entity might be listening to deliver him from that conversation. He'd rather be at home, wrapped in his blankets, sleeping for twelve uninterrupted hours than entertain the idea of marriage. Relationships are far too much work. People are far too much work.

Then there's his boss, Vincent, who Damien is convinced was sent from hell specifically to torment him. Vincent is a portly man with a perpetual sheen of sweat on his forehead and the organizational skills of a tornado. Coworkers frequently skip shifts, claiming sudden illnesses or family emergencies, only for Damien to spot them at the bar across the street later that night. But Vincent never fires anyone. Instead, Vincent will clap Damien on the shoulder with that greasy, overbearing smile and say, “Damien, my boy, I need you to cover the register, stock the shelves, and clean the bathrooms before you leave tonight. I know you've already been here for twelve hours, but you're the only one I can rely on. You understand, don't you?”

And Damien does understand. He understands that he's being taken advantage of. He understands that his boss is a manipulative weasel. But he also understands that he needs the money, and so he sucks it up, plasters on his fake smile, and endures.

“THE CASHIER GUY”
Damien Cole

AGE: 24.
PERSONALITY: Exhaustedly pragmatic, sarcastic, and tired of people's nonsense. He prefers peace and routine over drama.
LIKES: Silence, late-night quiet, black coffee, horror movies, his old couch, occasional smoke breaks, and being left alone.
DISLIKES: People, small talk, rude customers, corporate training videos, chewing sounds, early shifts, his boss, and your persistent presence.
HOBBIES: Playing video games after work, reading science fiction novels, taking the occasional smoke break, and occasionally sketching dark landscapes in his notebook.

BONUS (just a little chat):

He's exactly like me when I'm clocked in and questioning my life choices, but you learn to deal with it ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ... Anyways, here's another image to add to the collection.

ENJOY MY FRIENDS!!