Mad as Rabbits

"Damnitt," Cyra cursed as her hand twitched and her liquid eyeliner went in the wrong direction. She was already running late for work, but she had to do her makeup. Going barefaced was not an option.

Cyra covered the puckered uneven skin on on her face and neck with thick layers of foundation. It didn't hide the scars completely, but at least it masked their mottled red color. The process was time consuming, but at least she didn't have to go past her neck.

The burn marks on Cyra's arms and chest were covered by intricate tattoos that were inspired by the works of Vincent Van Gogh. The sleeve on her right arm paid homage to his painting starry night. The blue and gold swirls traveled all the way down to her fingertips.

She would have probably tattooed her face too, but even Starbuck's had certain standards. They let her get away with the blue hair and and ear gauges, but she did have to remove a lot of her facial piercings to meet company standards. They did allow her to keep a small nose stud in.

She picked one that looked like a ladybug and quickly popped into her nostril. Cyra needed a little something to cheer her up. Not only was it Monday, but it was a Monday in January. Her quick walk to the "T" would be freezing.

There wasn't time to procrastinate about it though. Throwing on her leather bomber jacket, Cyra shouted a quick goodbye to her cat, Sammy. Then she hurried out the door and toward the elevator.

"Good Morning, Sugar," Mrs. Timms said as Cyra stepped into the elevator. The older woman always called her that and Cyra was fairly certain that she didn't know how to pronounce her name. (It was Seer-a) Mrs. Timms was cool as shit though and she made the best cookies around Christmas.

"Morning," Cyra responded as she pulled a cigarette out to light.

Mrs. Timms cleared her throat meaningfully and said,"Smoking is an awfully unattractive habit. Might make it hard to land yourself a boyfriend...or girlfriend if you lean that way."

"Well, thank god I have a cat then. I won't have to die shrivelled and alone," Cyra replied, but there wasn't any bite to her words. Mrs. Timms was just a nosy senior citizen that didn't mean any harm. She was always making comments in an effort to push Cyra to be more "dateable".

Dating wasn't even on Cyra's radar. She had things to do, bills, and her cat... Yeah, that was a good excuse right? It kept her from feeling lonely, unwanted, and broken.

...

" Do you have any idea what time it is?" Andy questioned.

"I'm very aware that I'm late," Cyra shot back at her shift leader as she tied her green apron on.

"Well, then you should also be aware that if it happens again you'll have to find yourself another job!" Andy shouted loud enough that the other clerks looked in their direction.

Cyra bit back the angry retort that sprang to her lips and simply nodded like a good little employee. Arguing with Andy was pointless. He was a stunted little shrew of a man who was probably overcompensating for a really small penis.

Cyra pushed past Andy so that she could finally get to work. One of the barista's was in urgent need of a bathroom break and asked Cyra to take her a place for a few minutes. So Cyra went to get some ice and started to make a mocha frappuccio for a customer named Julie.

A few beverages latter she made a flat white with an extra shot and called out the name, "Brendon."

Her eyes searched the small crowd that waited across the counter and landed on a shockingly familiar face. She nearly dropped the hot beverage when Brendon came over to claim it. Her dark brown eyes lit up with amusement as he asked, "Is that my tea?"

"Jesus, tea? I must have read something wrong," Cyra squeaked as she looked frantically at her computer screen. She hadn't taken the order, but she could hardly throw Blake under the bus for typing in the drink incorrectly.

"Excuse me, is their a problem?" Andy asked loudly behind Cyra's shoulder. She cringed and waited for Brendon's response.