Love Collector Chapter 3

If anyone reading this is a 100% fluent (Mexican-dialect) Spanish speaker, I would appreciate having you as someone I can hit up for translations regarding Mia's occasional offhanded comments. I just used google translate for these and don't want that to be the case forever.

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Payless Foods closed at 9:00 PM on weekdays and 10:00 PM on Fridays and Saturdays. Oliver usually only ever worked Monday through Friday and got off at 5:00 PM, and the end of his shift loomed closer and closer on the horizon until he'd finally made it to quitting time. Some other employees were checking in as he clocked out, part-timers getting ready for the closing shift, but Oliver paid them no mind aside from a friendly greeting or two depending on whether or not they gave him one first.

There was a ritual he did every day after getting off, something he did for his own sanity. There were three unisex bathrooms in the employee lounge, and Oliver had a breather in one of them just to decompress before starting his commute home. It gave him a chance to reflect on the day, and today, he had a lot to reflect on.

He did his business and washed his hands, lingering in front of the mirror when he was done. The same unremarkable guy he saw this morning still stared back at him. Oliver took a deep breath and ran his hand across his forehead.

Two years.

He tried not to dwell on it, but something about today and how monotonous it was really set him off. Oliver had worked at Payless Foods since he was twenty, and nothing had changed.

Oliver was idling, direction mostly adrift in the ocean that was modern society.

He lived paycheck to paycheck, didn't have any aspirations, had no marketable skills to speak of, and Oliver possessed no desire to pursue higher education to potentially make something of himself in exchange for some of that sweet, sweet student debt. All he had was a shitty car, a shitty studio apartment, hentai games, his edibles, and a spotty mental health history.

He didn't even have a high school degree.

"One day at a time," he breathed in.

It was the most basic advice in the world, and yet it helped him through his darkest times all the same. What hurt the most was something he shrugged off earlier in the day as not a big deal. Oliver's biggest problem was the same as it always was. He didn't hurt because he was directionless. He hurt because he was lonely.

Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't special, but it would've been nice if it was.

Instead, he would go home and fall into his usual escape- dating sims. At least they were always there for him, with their pretty heroines and comforting lewdness. Oliver knew falling in love with the girls in his favorite games was a coping mechanism, but everyone needed an escape. His was forming fake relationships with adorable 2D sprites who spoke cute words to him in a language he didn't understand, learning about their stories, their troubles, their hopes and dreams, and adding them to his collection of conquered virtual lovers.

Jacking off to them was a big part of it, too, but it sounded a lot less healthy when you put it like that, and it was already pretty borderline to begin with.

It wasn't that Oliver didn't want to pursue a relationship in real life. Nothing would've made him happier than finding someone who could understand him and was willing to put up with some of the baggage he'd eventually have to unload on them, but that was such a tall ask that the thought of doing so mortified Oliver.

Today didn't exactly change his mind, but... Oliver found himself thinking that if he could get used to having longer and longer conversations with Mia, then... maybe... something could happen.

He wasn't sure exactly what, but something was better than nothing. He needed time to think on it a bit more before making rash decisions like officially deciding to try and get closer to her, but it was the first inkling of a drive Oliver felt toward anything in a long time.

That alone made it worth pursuing.

Now done with his post-work existential crisis, Oliver pulled himself together as best he could and left Payless Foods. He headed for his car, already bemoaning how big of a bitch traffic was going to be on his way home. It was always worse at five than at nine, which was another reason he stalled in the bathroom for a few minutes.

A pleasant surprise awaited him as Mia was idling around in the parking lot next to Oliver's car when he arrived.

It looked like she was texting someone on her phone, but she stuffed it in her pocket when she saw him. After getting off work, Mia changed into a red and black zip-up hoodie. He'd seen her wear it a bunch of times, but it seemed cuter than usual. That probably had something to do with his overall shifting opinion towards her, like a ducklett imprinting on its mother, but Oliver tried not to think about how shallow he was.

She was also wearing a black choker around her neck with a metal fixture in the center, but the less he thought about that and how kinky it looked, the better.

"Hey," Mia stepped forward, shoving her right hand into her pocket. It was hard to tell for sure, but it looked like she was fumbling around with something in there. "Took you long enough."

"...Mia. Hey. Were you waiting for me or something?" Oliver laughed because he didn't know what else to do.

"Maybe I was."

The suddenness with which she hit him with that caused Oliver to pause for a second.

"That's not fair, you know- cornering a guy on Valentine's Day. You trying to get my hopes up?"

She glared at him again in a less-than-friendly fashion, making him paranoid that he'd misinterpreted her friendliness throughout the day.

"A veces eres un tipo especial de estúpido, chico blanco..." Mia mumbled under her breath.

"...What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just talking to myself."

"Okay. Well... what's up, then?" Oliver wasn't sure what this could be about, but then he had an idea that was a little embarrassing, even though it made sense on paper. He never would've suggested it on his own before today, but he'd already made several steps forward.

What was one more?

"Did you, ah, maybe need a ride home or... something? I wouldn't mind dropping you off..." Oliver asked, his throat feeling dry.

"No."

Mia shot him down so fast that it almost sent him reeling. She did it without thinking and then realized her mistake and how weird it would look if she went back on it. Her cold veneer now appeared a touch more frazzled, like she was beating herself up over something.

"That's not it, I was just... I was texting my roommate Zoe to see if I needed to pick up any groceries before walking home, but apparently, we're good, so..."

"Oh. Okay. Well, um..." Oliver was slightly disappointed, but he tried not to show it. "If you don't need anything, I should probably be on my way. Traffic is gonna be a total pain in the ass tonight, I can already feel it."

Now Oliver was confident Mia was fumbling with something inside her hoodie's pocket. He thought he might've heard the crinkling of plastic, but the most obvious conclusion refused to dawn upon his oblivious ass.

To be fair, Mia was just as bad as he was. She couldn't bring herself to whip it out and say what she meant to say. She'd never done this before, and her stomach was full of butterflies- bastards, each and every one of them.

She lost out to their fluttering might and realized it wouldn't happen.

Not today.

Mia sucked up her pride and forced herself to say something- anything- so that she could salvage this interaction in some way, shape, or form.

"That's cool. I won't get in your way. It's just that I... I wanted to tell you to take it easy tonight, Ollie. Don't want you running late again and getting fired because of it. This job wouldn't be the same without you, you know?"

Oliver stared at her in amazement and genuine confusion. They hardly talked before today. Why would Mia say something like that? He didn't want to question it, and thankfully, Mia's statement made him feel good enough to push down his doubts long enough to muster up a smile.

"...Thanks, Mia. That, um... that kind of felt really nice to hear, actually."

"...Good," she said back, her voice barely audible over the constant crinkling noise coming out of her pocket. "Now, have a safe drive home, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Definitely."

Oliver's heart was beating incessantly as he got in his car, turned the key, and drove away. His eyes dangerously lingered on Mia through his rearview window until she was totally out of sight.

As soon as she could no longer see Oliver's car, Mia stormed over to the nearest garbage can and kicked it as hard as she could. It was one of those garbage cans that were concrete fixtures built into the pavement, so it was a stupid move that Mia instantly regretted.

She didn't regret it as much as her failure to give Oliver the homemade chocolate she made for him, but it came pretty damn close.

"Fuck- shit- fuuuuuck...!" She hissed.

"Oh. My. Gawd." Stacy stepped out from behind one of the store's pillars, manifesting from its shadows like a slippery spirit of bitchiness. She brought an entirely different outfit to change into after work and was now wearing a short skirt, heels, and a low-cut shirt with lots of tacky jewelry scattered across her ensemble. "That was probably the single most painful thing I've ever sat through. I'm, like, dying of secondhand cringe over here."

"Want me to finish the job, la puta?" Mia threatened as she sucked in air through her teeth.

"Bring it, bitch," Stacy rolled her eyes. "I'm ready for round two whenever you want- assuming you're actually gonna fight your own battles this time."

That struck a nerve, and Mia made sure Stacy knew by way of the meanest glare she could muster.

Stacy didn't apologize, but she crossed her arms, looked away, and made a sound of acknowledgment implying that maybe that was a bit far. "Hmph. Speaking of that whole mess, are you ever gonna tell him the truth, or what?"

"As soon as I'm damn well ready, or as soon as he puts the pieces together for himself. Whichever comes first."

"Seeing how you couldn't even bring yourself to give him a lump of chocolate and that he's an oblivious moron, I think you're gonna be waiting for a while, hon."

"I've waited this long," Mia grumbled at Stacy, growing ever tired of her shit. "I can wait a little longer."

"Yeah? Might as well take your time, then. Even with all of the cringe, I'm still enjoying the show." Stacy patted Mia on the shoulder, smiled, and walked toward her favorite of the seven overpriced coffee shops on this street.

Mia was already feeling like crap after her massive blunder, and a one-on-one chat with one of her most hated people in the world did nothing to help that. Sighing, she took the heart-shaped chocolate from her pocket and chucked it into the garbage can. It stung that things didn't go according to plan, but ultimately, today's defeat meant nothing.

She was down, but she wasn't out.

After everything he'd done for her, Oliver was worth pursuing.