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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

A Desk Job - Chapter 3, Part 1

Fenton spent the day much like every other day that he didn’t have a job interview: in the coffee shop. He didn’t drink coffee, because he couldn’t afford to. But this is where his friends gathered.

They weren’t old enough for bars (which they couldn’t afford to visit anyway) and the penalties for street loitering were even more expensive. All of them were out of work.

Fenton secretly pictured them as the ABC Club in Les Miserable. Gathering together to talk about political woes, the imbalance of money in society, or social rights campaigns.

Reality was not as glamorous.

Conner and Kagan were sharing a lone cup of coffee. Kasib stared out the narrow glass windows at a police car slowly patrolling up the road.

“Michelle Garret or Britney Sylvester.” Connor asked, while he waited on Kagan.

Girls. Not just girls, actresses. Unreachable, shallow, and unimportant.

Fenton tried to hide his disinterest by looking ‘intently’ at the squad car.

Silence.

“Where were you yesterday, Fen? Figured you got nicked or something by the cops.”

“You know me. I’m always out there trying to stick it to the Man.”

It wasn’t uncommon for someone to suddenly disappear. 'Civil disobedience’ had a very loose interpretation these days. With so many out of work and tempers running hot, keeping the herd thinned seemed to be the priority of those in power.

“It don’t take much!” Kagan offered. “That nice guy next door to us got nabbed the other day. Lost his job. He’s standing in the street outside the building and just loses it. Yelling and shaking his fist. Didn’t come home that night.”

Silence again. There was no one else in the shop but them. The barista was leaning against the back wall, eyes glazed as she twitched through the video feed on her eye piece.

When the empty air got to be too much, Fenton pipped up. “I had a job interview.”

The guys all perked up at this. “Sweet! Something good? You’ve got the brains for it.”

“For a librarian.”

“Dude, fuck off.”

Fenton paused again and wished he hadn’t mentioned it. There was no graceful answer.

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