Eugene had decided that he would rather die than price-mark another box of frozen lasagna.

...Ok, so maybe that was a little overdramatic, but his wrist was absolutely killing him right now. Gingerly, he sets aside the mustard yellow pricing gun, taking a moment to inspect the countless boxes laid out before him. Just how many boxes of frozen lasagna did one store need? He’d gone through at least twelve cartons since this morning, and it looked like he barely even made a dent in the mountain of cardboard boxes. Of course, as usual, David has so cruelly abandoned Eugene in his hour of need - probably off burning through a pack of cigarettes in the parking lot.

What a cold son of a bitch.

Letting out a long, heaving sigh, Eugene tries to get back to work, slicing open another box with a pair of scissors. He gets through about five more boxes before his eyelids start to feel heavy, which really was rather impressive given his track record. On a regular day, he would’ve conked out about three boxes in, but he supposed that can of Red Bull he had for breakfast (shocking, I know) this morning was doing exactly what it was supposed to. His eyes start to water, a yawn bubbling up from his lungs; the linoleum floor he was sitting on suddenly felt so comfortable, almost as comfortable as his bed back home. Keyword: almost.

In a stroke of pure genius, or perhaps utter stupidity, Eugene grabs a handful of cushioning paper out of one of the boxes, and sort of smushes it into a makeshift pillow. A quick power nap couldn’t hurt, right? He’d be wide awake and ready to face the day in ten minutes, waaay before anyone finds him passed out in a pile of frozen lasagna. And if David happened to walk in at an unfortunate moment, well, he wasn’t exactly the most hardworking employee either, was he? Another shuddering yawn wracks his frame, and he sprawls rather ungracefully across the floor, falling unconscious almost as soon as his head hits the “pillow”.

Blissful darkness claims him, but not for nearly long enough. A wonderful dream involving an extra-large pepperoni pizza was rudely interrupted by a shrill whistle that threatens to burst Eugene’s eardrums.

“I wasn’t sleeping.” Eugene says without missing a beat, immediately shooting up into a sitting position. This was it - this was the day he lost his job. How was he going to support his pet cat Charlie now? His parents would throw him and Charlie out of the house; instead of kibble and instant ramen, they’d have to live off leftovers scavenged from restaurant bins. He wouldn’t, no… he couldn’t live like that. Maybe if he begged enough, they’d let him stay despite napping on the job for the umpteenth time (he’s only been caught twice though).

It takes a few more moments for his sight to focus, and his mind was already swimming with ways he could wheedle himself out of getting fired, but instead of the fuming, red-faced manager he expected to see, it was someone much more welcome.

“Jesus Christ, Mari. You scared the shit outta me.” Eugene fights the urge to point out how the sentence rhymed as he clambers to his feet, a hand placed over his heart for emphasis. Truth be told, it was barely an exaggeration. He could still feel his heart pounding from the rude awakening, but most of all, he was relieved. It was a stroke of luck that Maricel had found him instead of a manager, and he flashes her one of his signature grins, though it’s tinged with a hint of sheepishness. “What’re you doing back here?”

It was a good question, or at least he thought it was. Usually, customer service never came around to the back room. If they needed to know the price of an item, all they had to do was walkie one of the stock and storage guys to find out. If they needed something set up in the store, well, they’d walkie them too. But apparently, today was a little different, and Eugene was already starting to get antsy from having to hold the fort until David gets back from his self-appointed smoke break.

<sub>His grin doesn't affect her as it might have affected someone else; she knows exactly how lazy Eugene Song is. Rolling her eyes as he wakes up from his fatigue-induced slumber. "Well," she chirps, "there are only two scheduled in the back room today, and we need a flat of candy and stuff for the checklanes, so Elizabeth sent me back here to pull one. In all honesty, I have no idea what I'm doing in regards to pulling a flat, but since someone is apparently busy with what he's doing, I guess I'll figure it out."

Whether or not that last comment was made in humor or malice was up for debate.

She backpedals, white Converse squeaking quietly against the stone floor of the back room. She was never given back room training, per se, but how hard was it to find a bright yellow cart with a whole bunch of different kinds of Icebreakers on it and wheel it up to customer services?

Very hard, apparently, because as she turned around to look at the wall of product behind her, her smile seemed to fail from her lips. Luckily enough, with her back to Eugene, he couldn't have seen her falter— right? Whether or not he does is not whats important to Maricel right now, anyways; scratching just under the apple of her cheek, where feintly-applied contour powder had been applied, she pocketed her hands in her pants pockets, walking down the main aisle, looking for the giant yellow flats. Taking about ten steps (in the wrong direction, might she add), Maricel instantly turned around, double-timing back to the box where she had found Eugene.

"Okay, I changed my mind, can you help me?" Her voice was almost defeated, albeit the pep still bit in the back of it like hops in a drink. Standing with her hands in her pockets, Maricel's bright eyes scanned the back room worker, turning up her lips as she got an idea. "And besides, where's David? He didn't completely leave you alone, did he? Man, it would really be bad if the store manager found out about that... you know, he's leader on duty today, the manager is..." In a mock pity, the brunette girl shook her head and clicked her tongue a couple times as she paced around the immediate area.

Hidden on the backburner on Maricel's expression was blatant malice; she knew what it was like to have a manager or coworker completely abandon you. If she took a shot for every time Ashley had run off to go flirt with the electronics rep instead of helping her do returns and repackages and order pickups, she'd be too drunk to come to work. Ever. On one hand, she was glad that it wasn't just guest services living up to their stereotype of a bunch of giggling, gossiping girls who didn't do anything but take returns and check on cashiers, but on the other hand, she needed that flat like, yesterday, and if Daniel was going to disappear when they needed pulls to leave Eugene to do it, it would cause for some problems later in the day. Casting a glance down at her watch, Maricel sighed. Three more hours.

She extends her hand to offer to him to help him out of the box before a manager does come by and catch him. "Up, lazybones, let's go. What does Daniel even do when he disappears, anyways? I don't ever see him walking around the store..."</sub>