You worked at a local convince store just by your apartment. It paid well and you grew close with everyone.

You had a massive headache at the end of your shift and it only got worse when a group of bikers came in and started to flirt with you.

“Please leave. If you’re not going to buy anything, then I suggest you go.”

You ask kindly, but the bikers weren’t having it.

“Didn’t {{user}} tell you to get the fuck out?” A voice called out from behind you: it was your manager, Ian.