Lillian
After taking a quick shower and changing into clean underwear, a dark grey baggy T-shirt and dark denim jeans. Lillian pulled on her ragged, old black tennis shoes, then dug her money and her copy of the campus map from her duffle to study it thoroughly. She memorized the map, planned her route, and peeked out through the door to the well-lit hallway. It was quiet except for one of the neighboring rooms. Judging by the shouts coming from that room, a male beta tester had started his story and was arguing with someone.
Better go before people start flooding into the halls. Locking her door behind her, she walked swiftly enough down the halls to hide her mild limp. The deep mahogany-colored floors were smooth under her feet, and the walls were the same off-white as the walls in the room. Thankfully, it only took one right turn just past the receptionist's desk to draw close enough to the canteen to hear the loud chatter of many of the other tester sating the hunger. The jolt of anxiety coursed through her when she turned left into the cafeteria, laying eyes on just how many men and women had gathered for breakfast. She tore her eyes way from the crowd to stop her body from freezing in terror, reminding herself that she could just order her meal and return to her room with it. That was precisely what she did when see stepped up to the stone top counter, greeting the chef. A tall middle-aged guy with light brown and blonde hair. He stood proudly at his hot griddle, the lean muscles in his arms flexing while he flipped and chopped sizzling eggs, bacon, and sausage with his large spatula. A stained white apron was tied tightly over a white button up long sleeve. His black pants tailored to his lower body. "What would you like to eat, lass?" The chef's voice carried to Lillian's ears with a thick British accent.
"A breakfast burrito to go, please?" She tried to speak over all the noise in the crowded space but seeing how his sky-blue eyes met hers, her voice wasn't loud enough.
He scooped up the cooked food, moving it to a spot on the griddle where it could stay hot without burning. Satisfied that all was in order he side stepped to the counter and handed her a notepad and pen. "Write your order here. I'll get you fixed up."
Lillian nodded, scribbling her order onto the notepad and sliding them back to him. A quick glance was all he needed to get started. "Ah, you must be excited to start working. Not many people get paid to do what they love."
Lillian just smiled and nodded. Just then it felt like someone poured ice water down her back, immediately followed by the deep grumbling of a familiar voice and furious stomping of a raging bull. She didn't waste any time getting out of the man's way while he approached. He was easily twice her size, a hulking brute with disheveled blonde locks and dark grey eyes. His navy-blue tee clung so tightly to him, it looked like it might rip at the seams if he moved wrong. His sweatpants didn't fit much looser on his waist than his shirt did on his torso. Everything about this man screamed threat in every fiber of Lillian's being. Her instincts demanded her to run, but she held her ground. She tried to pretend she hadn't noticed the way he had shouted at the chef to give him what was being prepared, but something in her shifted. The urge to run became a burning desire to defend. To bare her teeth. A growl rumbled in her chest unbidden gaining the brute's attention. He grabbed the front of her shirt, lifting her off the ground until they were nose to flaring nose. She could clearly see his blood shot eyes and a vein throbbing violently in his forehead.
"You got a problem, Runt?" His rancid breath almost choked her with the question. She didn't dare show it. Showing weakness would only empower him.
The chef banged his spatula against the griddle, the sound of metal on metal ringing out in a way that made the raging bull of a man flinch. "Mitchell. Put the lady down before I call security."
Mitchell blew a heavy puff of air through his nose before putting her down so roughly that she lost her footing and landed on her butt instead. The impact sent sharp, agonizing pain through her lower back, left leg, and left shoulder blade. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from reacting as she watched him stomp away with same temper he had coming into the room, empty handed.
Every eye in the cafeteria followed his exit in silence. A sigh spread through each person as the heavily charged atmosphere slowly lifted. A petite girl in her earlier twenties with tanned skin and dark pixie cut hair rushed over to her side as Lillian pushed herself off the ground using her right arm with practiced ease. The bright pink kitty crop top she wore revealed the lower part of her toned abs as she helped Lillian back to her feet. Her large chocolate brown eyes assessed the taller, fair skinned one. "Are you okay? You're not hurt?"
Lillian brushed off her rump more out habit then necessity. "I'm fine. No harm done." Almost no harm, but there was no point telling her about personal problems.
The concern that had been written all over her heart shaped face was soon replaced with a smile, lighting up her eyes. "My name's Chelsea. Would you like sit with us?" She pointed to the closest table where three other people sat. A girl with her hair dyed lavender purple with olive skin, rocking a cartoon character on her shirt and black capris. There was a guy sitting to her left with blazing red hair, wearing green and white tie-dye and baggy grey pants. The other guy sitting on her right side ran his fingers through his mop of sandy blonde hair. His shirt featured a character from a classic game.
"Lillian." She smiled back. A sense of kindness rafted off the smaller girl, calming her nerves somewhat. Though she was mildly tempted to accept her offer, the crinkling of a paper bag being filled had her ear swivel. Redirecting her focus, she turned her head in time catch the eye of the chef holding two paper bags bulging with food.
"Your order is ready, Ms. Frost." He held up his free hand when she reached into her pocket for her payment. "This one is on the house. An apology for my nephew's behavior just now. He's not usually so hot-tempered."
"Thank you-" she hesitated for a moment when she noticed the top of the second bag folded over and taped shut. "but what about this one?"
His confident expression turned sheepish, sky-blue eyes swam with a range of guilt and embarrassment. "Would you mind delivering that one to room 211? I'd do it myself but-" he gestured to the full dining hall.
Chelsea's sun kissed cheeks reddened, her small frame puffing up like a cat arching its back. "Are you serious?" Lillian's soft touch to her shoulder silenced any further argument. She visibly deflated. Confusion erasing anger and disbelief.
Although grateful someone wanted to stand up for her, the amount of attention on her had become unbearable. Despite the discomfort, she kept her cool. "It's on my way back. I don't mind." Accepting both bags she assured the chef she would deliver it right away. A plan had already begun to form in her mind as she fought to walk at a calm steady pace.
Within minutes after stepping through the doors of the cafeteria, she felt Chelsea's presence and heard the tapping of her tennis shoes as she raced to catch up. Once she was by Lillian's side, she matched her pace with ease. "How are you so calm about this? That Mitchel guy could have seriously hurt you and you're bringing him his food. Girl, you must nerves of steel."
Lillian chuckled. "I said I'd make the delivery, but I need to stop somewhere first." They had almost reached the desk at the entrance. Thankfully, the older woman had returned to her station. The precise rapid 'click clack' of each computer key spoke of years of experience working behind a desk. Today she wore a pastel yellow dress, her hair tied up in a signature tight bun. "Excuse me, ma'am." Lillian's voice was soft and polite. She lowered her head slightly in a humble gesture. "May I use your hole punch and a thick rubber band, please?" A hint of curiosity sparked in the elder woman's eyes. She passed the requested items to Lillian. Chelsea however gave her a puzzled look, unable to fathom what use she could have for them. That was until she watched Lillian punch a hole in the folded part of the paper sack she was to deliver and threaded the rubber band through so that the package could be hung by the rubber band. "Thank you." The hole punch was immediately returned. With preparations made, she walked briskly down the hall to finish her task. Chelsea followed, hot on her heels.