Royalty Gone Bad

Chapter 12: 12. Finally

Writer’s POV:

Asahd went through hell that week. The limited food, cold showers, common clothes and life. He shed

at least a tear every single night. It’d been only five days, yet, Asahd actually felt like giving up on life.

For real. And on top of that, he had not found a job yet and it was already the weekend. Though he’d

really searched for one.

Djafar with the help of Saïda, maintained his word. Now they gave nothing but plain toast to Asahd in

the morning and a can of baked beans, for dinner. Eventually, if he didn’t find a little job before the next

week, he would have nothing at all. Asahd knew it was no joke. He was finished.

***

Asahd’s POV:

I left another shop, still no one wanted help or wanted to employ a worker. I had come down to nothing.

It was so hard that I’d ended up asking if I could clean floors, shop and restaurant toilets...

Yes, I was ready to be nothing but a cleaner. I’d tried everything. I’d gone to restaurants and had asked

to clean their floors or help to wash dishes in the kitchen, but nothing. I’d knocked at people’s door,

asking if they needed a babysitter, but to no avail. I was tired.

--

I sat on a wall in the streets, a lump in my throat.

It’d been a few days, yet I started to see what it felt like to be without resources. What it felt like to toil

and look for any means to make a little money. I was hungry most of the time because I ate nothing but

plain toast in the morning and stayed like that till evening, when I would have canned beans. I couldn’t

even steal snacks from the fridge because Djafar had put a lock on in.

'A LOCK! WHO THE HELL, PUTS A LOCK ON A FRIDGE?!'

I was so angry. Angry at my parents. I felt I hated them for doing this to me. I was angry at Djafar, for

participating in their evil plan. I was angry at the world! I was bitter and had not spoken to either Saïda

or Djafar, for days. My objective was, to find a damned job that would give me a little money.

-

I was scrolling through my phone when I came up with an idea. Just like that.

′This better work.′

I hopped off the wall and walked my way to the busy streets. I took a deep breath because what I was

about to do was going to need a lot of courage and convincing.

′Think positive.′

I shut my eyes and forced the frown I had on, off my face.

′Time to use your skills.′

I thought in amusement. I was very good at convincing people, especially the ladies. I scored a lot of

points with them, when I wanted. And I was going to use it to get myself a means of making a little

money.

-

Smiling, I stood in the middle of the sidewalk and the busily moving crowd. I spotted a young woman

that looked kind. I wasn’t going to stop some stern looking people that would cuss at me or something,

like psychopaths.

“Hello ma’am,” I smiled at her and she stopped, smiling back and a little surprised.

“Yes, hello?”

“I’m Asahd,” I stretched a hand out and she shook it.

“Do I know you?”

“Nope. I would like to know, do you have a lawn?”

“Uh, yes,” she mused at the odd question. Belongs to © n0velDrama.Org.

“Then today’s your lucky day. Today you get my number and a free opportunity to mow your lawn. If

you’re satisfied with my job right after, and if you need your lawn mowed perfectly and at a cheap price,

some other time again, you can call me. But for a first, I’ll do it for free, for the pretty lady that you are,”

I bowed playfully and she giggled a little.

“Wow,” she mused. “That’s a nice offer but I don’t think I need any help with my lawn.”

“That’s what you think,” I replied and she laughed a little. “Give me a chance. Anytime you’re free. For

the first time, I’ll do it for free. Just give me a chance,” I smiled at her and she blushed.

“Hmmm, you’re foreign and that makes me doubt if your an illegal immigrant or clandestine. Are you

legal, at least?”

“Yes, I am. No worries,” I took my papers out. Tourist Visa and passport.

“Oh, you are. But if you’re a tourist, why look for little jobs.”

“It’s kind of complicated to explain,” I mused and she laughed a little.

“Okay, I won’t ask any more questions. As long as you are legal,” she took her phone out. “Your

number?”

′YES!′

I gave her my number and she promised to call if ever she finally needed my services.

I went on and on and at the end if the day, I’d convinced about eleven women to take my number and

all had promised to give me a call when necessary. I hoped they would as soon as possible. I’d

precised that I would always be available on weekends and only weekends, just in case I found

something else to do too.

That little activity had given me a little hope.

-

At six that evening, I was walking down the street, having a little stroll before taking a cab back home

when like a miracle, I looked in the direction of a fast food restaurant. On their glass was a flyer that

read:

′Waiter/Waitress needed.′

I almost skipped. Without further thinking, I stepped in. The place was full and seemed to be mostly

visited by teenagers and young adults like myself. All tables were full of groups of friends and

youngsters. I understood why they needed an extra waiter or waitress. There were a lot of customers to

attend to and the present waiters were walking up and down, trying to serve everyone and take

everyone’s orders.

“Hello,” a blonde waitress, quite pretty, approached me with a smile. “House is quite full tonight. Need a

table? Or you want to order at the counter?” she asked.

“Uh, no. I’m here for the job,” I replied.

“Oh, follow me.”

“Okay.”

I followed her behind the counter and to the back where there was an office door. She knocked and got

in. I followed her.

“Boss, he’s here for the job,” she told the man behind his table, filling his register.

“Come in,”

I stepped closer while the girl left.

“You want the job?”

“Yes, sir. Good evening.”

“Good evening. Name?”

“Asahd.”

He went on to ask me a few important questions and I was wise enough to answer them with good lies

like what, I was a student that needed to payoff my classes with a part-time job and blah blah blah.

When I was done speaking, he didn’t say anything and just went on, filling his registers. I waited

patiently and silently for him to say something.

Finally he did.

“Okay. You have the job.”

My eyes grew wide.

“W– what?”

“You have the job. You start tomorrow morning. Eight o’clock. I don’t tolerate late coming. You come

late, you’re fired. It’s sixty five dollars per day, that is, if your work was well done, else you get less. And

you might get more if you get good tips from customers.”

“Thank you. Thank you very much, sir,” I couldn’t believe I’d pulled off a job! Finally.

“Brittany?? Brittany!” he called and one of the waitresses, walked in. A pretty brunette with bluish eyes.

“Give him a T-shirt. Asahd, be here at eight. You’ll work from Mondays to Fridays.”

“Thank you once again, sir.”

'Yesss!′

I followed the girl out and she gave me the fast food’s T-shirt which was also its uniform.

“Thanks.”

“Yup. See you tomorrow, new guy,” she said and went back to work. The blonde waitress who’d taken

me to the office at first, approached me.

“Got the job?” she asked

“Yeah,” I smiled, unable to contain the happiness and relief.

“Great. By the way, I’m Jenna.”

“Asahd.”

“From?”

“Morocco.”

“Cool. Don’t be late for work, tomorrow,” she said and went back work.

I left that restaurant, very happy. Finally!

But I was going to have a hard time getting there at eight. Our apartment was literally at the other end

of town, and I had no car. This meant I had to wake up super early in order to make it. I hated waking

up early but I was ready to sacrifice my sleep. I needed money. I was so relieved.

~~~~~~