Tom trudged to his apartment, his head pounding every step of the way. Who were you to offer him a job? He didn't need your help. He didn't accept handouts and how could you possibly have the audacity to say he does? What did he even tell you the night before? A thousand questions and rants were running through Tom's hungover mind and it didn't get any better when his phone went off the second he got inside his home.

It was Harrison as Tom expected. He was asking if Tom had gotten home alright and if he needed help with anything. Tom rolled his eyes and shrugged it off. He didn't need anyone's help. He could get any job he wanted. He was a good worker when he put his mind to it. At least, this is all what he thinks. Other people have different opinions but none of them matter to Tom. He's too egotistical.

You, on the other hand, were content getting ready for the day. Sure you were exhausted but you knew if you napped, you'd end up sleeping all day and that wouldn't help you for work the following day. You might as well suck it up and head in. It's just you and your dad today anyway.

You got ready for the day and headed off, choosing to walk thanks to it not being horrendously cold. When you got to work, your dad was restocking some of the fruit, a thick brown box in one hand.

"Hey." You chimed as you made your way over.

"Hey, I thought you were staying in?" Your dad asks.

"Yeah, I was but I'm feeling alright. It's okay." You smile and take the box from him.

"Why don't you go put your things down first? And you man the register today. I don't need you overworking yourself." Your dad's brows furrow as he takes the box back.

"There's no convincing you otherwise today, is there?"

"No." He chuckles and goes back to stacking apples.

"Fine." You groan jokingly before heading to the back room of the small shop and drop your things off, only pulling out your laptop from your bag before heading back to the register.

You make yourself comfortable on a stool and rest your laptop under in the cubby area beneath the register counter. You watch your dad, debating whether or not to tell him about your encounter with Tom and that you might have already offered him a job. Other people worked with the two of you but your dad wasn't exactly hiring. You just kind of told Tom you were. He's down on his luck and he needs someone to help him get his shit together. Maybe you should mind your own business, but it's too late now.

"So," You start, gaining your dad's attention who was now walking back to you. "Uh...we aren't hiring, are we?"

"No, why?" He quirks a brow as he moves behind you, grabbing the blue pouch for the bank.

"I might have told someone we are." You give him a smile that just reads 'oops'.

"Why would you do that?" He questions.

"They seem to be down on their luck." You shrug with your words, looking down to the register and back up.

"Are they a decent worker?"

"I don't really know but if not, we can make him into one. I think he needs it." You scoff.

"A boy?" Your dad's brows knit together with the question.

"Neighbor."

"It isn't that deadbeat right next to you? The one you come in complaining about at least twice a week?"

Your dad had a point. You did complain about Tom all the time. Tom just never cared about the fact he had neighbors and very thin walls. It was nearly a nightly routine that he'd wake you up. It was either due to his headboard hitting the wall over and over, the moans coming through the walls, or him throwing things and yelling to himself about one thing or another. He was an annoying neighbor so you understand your dad's hesitance.

"As I said, down on his luck."

"You can't help everyone, dear." Your dad's voice is soft but warning.

"I know but," You shrug again, furrowing your brows. "I just feel like maybe I should try and help him, ya know? I don't think he'll show up anyway but, I feel bad for him. He's got some stuff going on...I think anyway." Your words trail off remembering bits of Tom's drunk words.

He lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head. "Fine, he shows up, we give him a chance if not, oh well. But, he is your responsibility. His damages are on you."

"Thanks, dad." You smile sheepishly as he moves past you.

"Now, I have to go to the bank and I'm grabbing lunch, need anything?"

"No, I'm okay. I'll call if it gets busy."

He nods, smiling before heading out, allowing you to your own. You pulled out your laptop with the shop being empty and decide to start working on your other piece of writing. It was anything to distract your mind and pull you into a different universe. It kept you content.

Meanwhile, Tom had since showered and changed. Harrison made his way over seeing as it was one of his day off and he was not happy. Tom was starting to walk on very thin ice when it came to Harrison. Best friends or not, Harrison was tired of picking up the mess Tom kept creating. Jobs, friends, family, it was always Harrison who had put everything back together and when Tom would break over it, he had to put his best friend back together. It's tiring.

"You're my best mate but this is ridiculous." Harrison groans, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against Tom's counter.

"I didn't ask your opinion."

Harrison scoffs in response. "Alright, then, what's your plan? Let's hear it." Harrison gestures his hand in front of him, rolling to signal Tom to start explaining.

"I'll figure it out." Tom huffs as he reaches for a beer inside the open fridge.

"Yeah, and what? Week before rent's due you'll be ringing me up asking for another loan or to crash, yeah?"

Tom shuts the fridge and sucks his teeth. "I can get a fuckin' job, alright? Don't need your help and I'll be sure never to ask again." Tom snaps.

"You're slipping." Harrison's voice softens away from annoyance.

"I'm fine." Tom rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his beer.

"Yeah, heard that before." Harrison mumbles.

"If you're going to bitch, you can leave." Tom gestures towards the door and Harrison nods with pursed lips.

"Fine." Harrison shakes his head and makes his way towards the door. "You need to get your shit together." Harrison's words cut deep as he opens the door and leaves Tom to his own.

Tom muttered to himself as he's left alone in his kitchen. What did he have to prove to Harrison? Sure, Harrison knew him better than anyone but did he really have to prove himself? What's the point? Tom knew Harrison would just find something to pick at. But then again, Tom would not be able to handle Harrison's 'I told you so's' if Tom proved to be wrong. Tom needed to show Harrison up. Show him he could do things without him despite all the doubt he projects, albeit, was Tom's own doing. That would sure make Harrison leave Tom alone, let Tom continue on with his destructive behavior. Tom didn't have to tell Harrison how the job opportunity came about. He just needed to have a job.

So, after a few hours of going and forth with himself, he gets up from the couch and slugs on a black jacket, remembering the small shop you mentioned earlier that morning. His earbuds playing music through his ears as he walked, cars casually passing him by on the walk. His mouth was pressed into a straight line and he'd love to be anywhere but here. Then again, if he did this, he could reward himself with yet another night out.

The door chimed as he entered, pulling your attention from your laptop. Your brows raised and you smiled a knowing grin, a bit surprised he showed but also holding a bit of arrogance.

"Hey." He says curtly as he walks up the register, your laptop now closed.

"Hey." You say, the smile not budging.

"So, now what?" His eyes show his annoyance as he looks around the shop.

Your smile drops as you share the annoyed look but you sigh, closing your eyes for a few seconds, not letting him get to you. "You start tomorrow."

"That's it?" He huffs, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a disbelieving grin.

"Already talked it over with my dad. You start tomorrow."

Tom smirks with your calmness. "So, are you going to be like my boss?" He licks his bottom lip with the words.

"My dad is your boss, hold on." You return the smirk and look to the open door that leads to the backroom. "Hey, dad! Tom's hear!" You look back to Tom and his smirk drops immediately. "Please, don't flirt with me."

"That wasn't flirting, darlin'." Tom quips.

"Right." You state as your dad comes up from the side of you.

"You're Tom?" Your dad looks him up and down, clearly questioning his wardrobe choices.

"Yeah, that's me." Tom says, his attention moving from you to your dad.

"Well, y/n, put in some good words so you start tomorrow. You show up eight. You get two fifteen minute breaks and a half hour for lunch. Jeans, t-shirt, sweatshirt. That's your attire. You put on one our green aprons when you come in and you leave at seven. You do as I say. And you do as y/n says, understood?"

Tom's brows furrow and he's mentally punching himself for coming by. This already sounded like too much work for him. He's used to just sitting behind a desk and typing away at a computer, getting home by six. This was not an office job.

"Yeah, understood."

"Great. We'll go over the rest tomorrow." Your dad nods, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"I'll see you tomorrow." You give him a cheeky smile and he forces one in return.

"Tomorrow." His lips are pursed and his face tinted red in more annoyance and frustration.

What did he just get himself into?