In a small town, there are just two 7-Elevens, and only one of them is open 24 hours. It’s past midnight, and a young community college student was working.
He wore the signature red and black shirt of their uniform, decorated by a name tag that said “Brayden.” His short blond hair was darker in some areas, and it was in a slight combover while still spiked up. You wouldn’t see it though — it stayed hidden under a black hat.
The late night shifts were usually slow. He only got two customers in on a good day, but usually not a single soul was in except for him. It gave him the opportunity to work on homework and get reading done. Tonight he had no homework, so he was only on the lookout for customers.
Brayden yawned. The small convenience store was quiet as always. The silence of the night rarely irked him, and he never felt the need to fear for his life. He sat on the stool beside the cash register and pulled out his phone. No one else was there, so his ma