Chapter Text
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Do not believe anyone saying that they are me, these are my only socials until this is updated:
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07:02 am. The cheap, purple blinds were drawn over the window, blocking any sort of light from entering the small, run-down room. The bedroom itself looked like it had given up trying to impress anyone a long time ago. The floor was littered in random papers from Zam Industries and bills, along with the few clothes Wemmbu owned; a stray hoodie here, a sock there, torn trousers thrown haphazardly onto the chair. The carpet, once a soft lilac, had turned a gray and unkempt colour. The morning sun did little to salvage the view, but it was Wemmbu's room, and that's all that mattered. In the midst of the silence, a shrill sound pierced through the air.
Brring!
Brring!
Brring!
Wemmbu groaned as his phone ran for the third time. What could Egg possibly want from him? He's already said that he's not coming in today. Sure, yes, Wemmbu had already used up all his allocated days that he can take off of work, but a 9 to 5 in an office is an incredibly boring job, so who could blame him? Even so, it is the only job he can have, and he only has it because Eggchan is the manager, and he's the sole reason why Wemmbu hasn't been fired yet. He should be more grateful to Egg, really, Wemmbu chastised himself. Groaning into his pillow before sitting up, he stared at Egg's profile picture before finally deciding to pick up the call.
"What do you want, Egg?", Wemmbu's voice was deep and husky, he'd need to drink something when this is over.
"Dude, Wemmbu, You need to come to work bro. I can't just keep covering for you"
Letting out another, this time more performative, groan, wemmbu ended the call without even responding to Egg before forcing himself to get out of bed. As much as he hated the job, he couldn't really lose it to something stupid like just not wanting to come in.
He slowly took off his top, staring at himself in the cracked mirror. His fingers found themselves tracing the soft outlines of his ribs. When was the last time he had a proper meal? Or even three a day. After a bit more contemplation, he threw on the white button up shirt that he'd stolen from Egg when he first started working at Zam Industries. The shirt was a size or two too big, but it was the most presentable thing in his closet right now, even with the crinkles all over, so he wasn't exactly complaining. Next was the eyeball-thing necklace. Wemmbu didn't know exactly what it was, but it looked like an eyeball and was given to him by Egg on their second year of highschool so he's been wearing it daily for a few years now. Then he threw on some random jeans before heading to the kitchen.
It was fairly... "modest", one would say. Average looking kitchen, no decorations, overused stove - Wemmbu was glad that he could at least get this going -, and numerous ramen cups in the cupboard. Numerous meaning five, of course. Payday was 8 days away. Wemmbu grumbled something about rationing it out again before grabbing a cup with some unknown markings on the inside, filling it with water and taking a swig. A few seconds later, he carelessly threw the cup into the sink before grabbing his empty bag and starting the long walk to Zam Industries.
Soon enough, the office building came into view. It towered over its competitors, the bright yellow "Zam Industries" lettering standing out like a sore thumb. Wemmbu scanned his keycard and walked through the doors. His coworkers were already done with the entrance procedure, heading up the main stairs. Placing his bag and any metal items he had on him onto the conveyor belt to be scanned, he sauntered through the metal detectors and waited for his bag and items on the other side. Wemmbu found it ridiculous really, with how much security there was in this place you'd think that numerous people had made an attempt on Zam's life. But, he was just a lowly worker bee, so he didn't have the luxury to comment on any of this.
Wemmbu slung his bag back over his shoulder and joined the slow-moving stream of employees trudging up the stairs. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, flickering just enough to be annoying but not enough for anyone to actually fix them. The air smelled faintly of burnt coffee and something vaguely metallic, like the building itself was rusting from the inside out. His desk sat exactly where he’d left it yesterday. And the day before that. And every other day that blurred together into one long, gray smear. A dull cubicle with low walls that didn’t quite offer privacy, but didn’t encourage conversation either. The computer monitor blinked lazily as it woke up, casting a pale glow over the stacks of paperwork that had somehow multiplied overnight.
Wemmbu dropped into his chair, which gave a quiet, defeated creak under his weight. He stared at the screen as it loaded, resisting the urge to immediately put his head down and pretend to be busy with something, when in reality he was sleeping.
7:59 am. One minute early. Great. He logged in, fingers moving on autopilot as he opened the same programs he always did. Spreadsheets, reports, numbers that meant nothing and everything at the same time. Columns stretched endlessly, rows packed with data that blurred together if he looked at them too long. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, then leaned closer to the screen like that would somehow make it more interesting. It didn’t.
Click.
Type.
Scroll.
Click.
The rhythm set in almost immediately, a dull, repetitive cycle that swallowed time whole. Occasionally, someone coughed. A chair rolled across the floor somewhere behind him. The printer whirred to life, spat out papers, then fell silent again like it regretted existing.
"Wemmbu.", He didn’t even flinch. He just sighed quietly before turning his head slightly. Eggchan stood behind him, arms crossed, expression caught somewhere between concern and mild disappointment.
"You actually showed up," Egg stated
"Regretting it already," Wemmbu muttered, eyes drifting back to the screen.
Egg lingered for a moment, like he wanted to say more, then just gave a small nod. "Just... try to get through the day, alright?"
Wemmbu hummed noncommittally. That was the plan. It was always the plan. Egg walked off, his footsteps fading into the background noise of the office. Wemmbu stared at the spreadsheet again. Numbers. Always numbers.
08:37 am.
09:12 am.
10:03 am.
Time moved, but only because it had to. Not because anything was actually happening. At some point, Wemmbu found himself staring at the same cell for what felt like minutes. Maybe it was minutes. Maybe longer. The blinking cursor mocked him, steady and patient. He blinked. Right. Work. His fingers resumed their slow, mechanical dance across the keyboard.
Lunch came and went with little ceremony. Wemmbu didn’t bother going anywhere. He just sat there, watching as his other coworkers chatted together and ate whatever they had prepared. Wemmbu stared at them, sometimes a little too hard. His stomach let out a low growl, and he glanced at Eggchan's office. Empty. Where could he have gone? Probably sucking up to his higher ups for a chance of better pay. Soon, break was over.
Back to work. Click. Type. Scroll. The afternoon dragged even worse than the morning. The light outside shifted slightly, barely noticeable through the tinted windows. The office remained exactly the same. Unchanging. Uncaring.
At one point, Wemmbu checked the time. 03:46 pm. He exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair until it creaked in protest. Almost there. Not really, but close enough to pretend.
More numbers. More clicking. A yawn he didn’t bother hiding. 04:58 pm. Wemmbu’s eyes flicked to the corner of the screen every few seconds now. His work had slowed to an almost laughable pace, each action stretched out just enough to fill the remaining time without actually doing anything extra.
04:59 pm. He hovered his cursor over the save button.
05:00 pm. Click.
Wemmbu didn’t waste a second. He shut everything down, grabbed his bag, and stood up so quickly his chair rolled back a few inches. Around him, others were doing the same, the office coming alive in a way it hadn’t all day. Papers shuffled, quiet conversations sparked, footsteps echoed toward the exit. Freedom. Temporary, but still.
Wemmbu made his way out without looking back, passing through the same security checks, the same doors, the same dull routine, but this time, it felt lighter. Just a little. As he stepped outside, the air hit him differently. Cooler. Fresher. Real. He exhaled, shoulders dropping as the weight of the day finally loosened its grip.
As Wemmbu walked back through the city, he saw one of those classic bakery signs, the kind that's stood on the floor in front of the entrance and has something or other written in chalk on it. On the actual sign itself read "Lomedy's bakery", a small "and Flame's" could be seen next to the first word, the handwriting obviously belonging to someone completely different - considering it was nowhere near as neat as the rest of the sign. Underneath the cafe name, sat the words "Free cakes inside, the design came out badly and I didn't want to sell them, just ask for a slice!" punctuated by a smiling face.
Wemmbu genuinely contemplated the offer. On one hand, he'd have something more filling than pots of ramen. On the other, he'd learned the hard way that nothing in this life truly comes for free. As the mental battle waged on, his stomach let out a yearning growl, and it seemed to settle the conflict.
Wemmbu pushed the door open and stepped inside, the air shifting to a cozy, calmer tone the moment he did so. It was warmer here, softer somehow, as if this cafe had been left behind in the rush of corporate greed in Capital City. It didn't try to pose as something bigger, grander and better than any other same franchise in the city. Instead of the usual city noise, a calm stillness filled the space, carried by a faint hum in the background.
Small bulbs hung from above, glowing in a gentle yellow that softened everything it touched. Above them, plants stretched and draped across the cieling and upper walls, their green leaves spilling down in long strands. Certain vines curled around the lights, some clung to the walls and wooden decorations, while others hung freely, as if they had all slowly found their place over time.
Wemmbu took a few steps forward, his gaze drifting from one thing to another. Shelves stood between the counter and the rest of the room, lined with various cups, jars and containers of all shapes and sizes. The all-wooden furnishing felt warm and natural, as if every piece was planned for with care and intent.
He didn't notice when the cafe owner, a small man of gentle stature, finally appeared in front of the counter, as he was far too busy trying to process the drastic change from the usual industrialised or modernised style all the other places had.
"Hello. What would you like me to serve you today? All of the cakes and sweets you see here on display are fully homemade. I grow some of the ingredients too.", Wemmbu glanced down at the man speaking, his nametag reading 'Lomedy'. So this was the owner?
"I, uh. The sign out front says you're giving away the cakes that you don't like. So I came in to ask.", it was a lot more embarassing to actually ask for free food, Wemmbu found out. although Lomedy was more than happy to give him a slice or two without any questions, so he took the small olive branch this cafe seemed to offer to him. Grabbing the cake, he thanked Lomedy before sitting in the back corner, silently enjoying the cake in front of him. If Lomedy considered this a 'failiure', Wemmbu couldn't wait to find out how the cakes he actually sold tasted like.
As Wemmbu was drowning in the newfound feelings of having a - somewhat- real meal, another man came in with a sudden burst of energy. Wemmbu stared at his tiger ears, they flicked back and forth as the overgrown cat rambled on about some race to poor Lomedy. Wemmbu tuned out their conversation for the most part. He didn't find races particularly interesting, Unless he was actively taking part. However, his attention piqued when kitty softpaws started being more hush-hush about it. From their conversation, Wemmbu got that it was some sort of illegal racing scheme hosted by some Capital City bigshots, and there was going to be a very important race between this feline and someone called "fish bucket". He had to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes at that name. He dearly hoped that whoever this was never crossed paths with him. Maybe he should ask Eggchan about this. Egg seems to know everything about Capital City and its history, so it wouldn't hurt to just check if he had any info on this, right?
For the first time in a while, Wemmbu lay in bed with a full stomach, and with the intentive to actually come into work on the next day.