~ Imamura, Seika ~
Click. Click. Click. Kitten heels tapped against the path as Seika strode with her head high, shoulders back, face neutral. The pose felt as restrictive and uncomfortable as her starchy waitress uniform, but it played just as important a part in the code she stuck to. With morning classes over, and the midday sun starting to dip, she had to switch the mask of ideal student to that of ideal employee.
Stopping outside a building, a modern-styled cafe of cubes, glass and steel, she took a handheld mirror from her bag, smoothing her hair. Maintaining said mask wasn't easy, but she couldn't let any cracks show, not even as her teacher's snarky comments from earlier stuck in her mind. Sure, the professors were like that with most of the class, but she could just imagine what her parents would say... and what he'd say.
Watching herself shiver, she scowled at her reflection and shoved the mirror back into the handbag. Why the hell was she still dwelling on that? He was out of her life, and good riddance. Get a grip, she mentally chided herself as she marched forward, ponytail swishing. Get a fucking grip.
She took a deep breath, then pushed the door open, her customer service persona in place even before she reached the staff room. "Good afternoon," she greeted the manager, bowing her head, her tone as falsely bright as a mechanical recording.
"Afternoon, Imamura-san," the man before her said, returning the bow. "If you wouldn't mind, I have a favour to ask of you. We have a new member of staff starting today, would you be able to show her the ropes?"
Seika hid the jolt of panic with a smile. Would she be able to, as a fairly new employee herself? In any case, she had to act capable, more than capable. "That'll be no problem," she chirped. She could only hope that would be the case.