1 The Beginning of the Story- But not quite at the start.

Hey.

It's me.

I'm not the best at life, really. It's kinda all one big mess. The thing I'm best at is screwing things up, and you know what? That's ok.

Hi.

I'm Aiden.

Aiden Breen.

I'm not quite sure what's happening myself, to be honest. I'm about to go to work. I need to be there in a few minutes, actually. But I'm trying to put all my feelings down here. Kinda like my own Dear Evan Hansen journal, without the suicide, of course. And I'm not using my real name either. That would be dumb. I love and hate this name. Aiden. It's what I'm going to name my first son or daughter. It's versatile like that. Like Alex. Or Sam.

Pure.

What did I do today? Well, in the middle of this global pandemic, what does anyone do? I watched Netflix of course. Yeah, I'm boring: not the main character type.

I'll write more on my break.

Later, losers.

I walked in, clocked in, and slipped on my gloves. XL for my big ass hands. Glancing over to the drive through window, I saw her again and my heart raced. Kylie. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back in her trademark high ponytail.

She was my trainer, and was VERY cute. Her faint southern accent could be traced as she spoke, asking for a cup of ketchup.

"AIDEN!" Yelled my manager, Aaron. His gruff voice and angry demeanor sent chills down my spine.

"Yes sir?"

"I heard about last night. You need to start paying attention, son, your write-up is in my office. Stop by to sign it."

"Yes sir."

I turned to my friend, Nicole, in utter confusion, eyebrows raised, begging for an explanation. She was there with me last night, and closed, so she was there for everything.

"Yeahhhh," she said, watching my face with bemusement, enjoying every moment of my panicked, confused state. "You handed a 50 dollar meal out the window when all they ordered was a couple chicken nuggets."

"Are you sure?" I pleaded. If that was true, only I was to blame, and it would throw me off.

"We watched the cameras. I'm sure."

I groaned. The end was near, a stunning end to a terrible day.

My head began to ache. The stress was getting to me. I rubbed my temples and got to work. I handed off meal after meal, time after time. I changed trash cans, wiped tables, made teas, and did drinks. The day continued its dreary way, when I heard Kylie say the fated words-

"Now that I'm single, why aren't any cute guys hitting me up?"

I looked up in astonishment, only to have my vision black out from pain. I began to faint and was caught by my friend, Jonathan.

In a daze, I heard him talking to Aaron, and they told me to go home. I clocked out and shuffled over to my car. I pulled out, and headed home, on the highway. Struggling to keep my eyes on the road, I finally pulled over, slowly.

The car behind me did me no courtesy.

The car slammed directly into the back of the car, causing the seatbelt to break and I flew out the windshield, to lay on the pavement ahead, broken, in the way of incoming traffic. The car who's path I blocked could not react in time, and completely crushed my broken body. And so I died.

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