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It's Eddie's first workday and he's set the kitchen on fire.
Well, the microwave.
He had it under control, actually - if only he could've figured out the damn fire extinguisher. The flames weren't even that high yet.
Unfortunately, that was when the alarm started and the sprinklers activated, and now he's standing outside in his soaked shirt while his coworkers give him stinky looks.
He's gonna get fired.
He's gonna get fired on his first day, because he can't reheat some chicken nuggets without burning down the office kitchen. Fuck his life.
At least there's hot firefighters.
When said firefighters exit the building, one of them waves him over. As Eddie approaches, he takes off his helmet - it reads S. HARRINGTON in big, bold letters - and shakes out his chestnut hair. He didn't even break a sweat.
“Eddie, right? You were in the kitchen when the fire started?”
Eddie is about to ask what gave him away when he realizes that S. Harrington is looking at the nametag on his shirt. His very drenched, very see-through shirt.
“I need to know what happened,” S. Harrington says. “For my report, y’know?”
“Nuggets,” Eddie mutters.
S. Harrington’s brow wrinkles. “Pardon?”
“Chicken nuggets,” Eddie blurts, cheeks burning. “They were my lunch, except now they're all charred and probably also soggy and I'm gonna get fired on my first day because-”
“Got it,” says S. Harrington. “Electrical malfunction. Common in old buildings. Thanks, Eddie.”
Eddie sputters. “What? No! Weren't you listening, I told you-”
S. Harrington winks. Slowly.
“Oh,” Eddie says. “Malfunction. Yes, totally. I mean … that makes sense.”
“Right?” S. Harrington smiles. “Just be more careful next time, yeah?”
Eddie hums. “I dunno … Maybe give me your number? So that I can call you directly if ... things ever get heated again?”
He stands corrected, he thinks as he slips the piece of paper into his pocket and skips back inside. As far as first days go, this is a pretty damn good one.