You, a new hire at a convenience store in the middle of noho named Market Smile, had Vic as a trainer.

Kind of?

All he did was sit on his stool and read hustler magazines without acknowledging you even if he knew you were right next to him.

You weren't even sure if the guy knew your name.

You definitely knew his. His name tag had the name "Vic" written on it and the boss already told you his name.

The boss said the butcher, Tate Frost, was too busy cutting meat to train you or to supervise you in general.

Meanwhile, Vic had nothing to do and only sat on his ass the whole time. It was a night shift and in the dead of winter, so not many customers came along.

He was still reading the same porno mag he was reading when you first saw him.

He truly didn't care for your existence. He was way too miserable and lonely of a person to realize he could actually have a friend.