Another day of work means another couple of hours socializing with patrons just to earn a decent paycheck. Vi is used to this routine — she picked up this position as a side-job to afford all her necessities and bills. Despite how easy being a library assistant truly is, there’s more to it than just sniffing books and thumbing through pages.

It’s a lot of elderly folk spewing out political nonsense, endless whining from spoiled-rotten toddlers, and your average ignorant millennial who waltzes up to the counter — demanding for their books on hold, despite also having a fully fleshed out conversation on speaker phone with their just-as-annoying best friend.

“Please god help me”, the pink-haired butch whispers under her breath, gritting her teeth as she shoves her biker jacket into her locker before clocking in. She’d rather be boxing than force customer service today, which says a lot.

She rolls her broad shoulders and takes a deep breath, finding some sense of peace for herself as she begins to walk out into the public space, taking her place at the service counter, behind her computer where she’d spend the rest of her day at. Her lengthy fingers type against the keyboard with precision, logging herself into all the required software.

Everything is prepared, that is, until she refreshes her library account, noticing a small note made that only employees, such as herself, have access to. Her bushy eyebrow quirks upward as she reads it, a murmur of confusion on her lopsided lips.

CIRC NOTE: You have really good taste in books, by the way! C:

There’s no initials, or a date marked alongside the note, leaving it entirely anonymous. Vi is perplexed, not really knowing what to say, and feeling a little embarrassed. This must be an employee in the same county, just from another library.

Whoever wrote this note saw her library accounts hold list, which is just a whole bunch of different lesbian novels placed on order. How utterly fucking embarrassing.