Fic: Starting Anew - Chapter 3 (Glee, Rachel)
Title: Starting Anew - Chapter 3
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Rachel takes off to New York City after finishing high school, leaving the people and the life she knew behind. Her goal has always been to be a star. This is the beginning of her story.
Word Count: 2,545
Disclaimer: Glee is not mine, sadly. I just play with the characters in the pieces I write.
| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |
Starting Anew
Chapter 3
Her feet carried her on a steady jog down the street, getting in her daily exercise. Reaching the end of the sidewalk, she jogged in place, waiting for a safe moment to dash across the street. Her muscles pulsed with energy, the familiar warmth spreading deep within them. From the moment she woke up that morning, Rachel was preparing herself for her first shift as a waitress. Everything she did prior to stepping into the restaurant was in preparation for that moment.
She rounded the corner of her street, her apartment building in sight down the road. Taking her jog to a sprint, she charged at full speed, burning through the nervous adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her arms pumped at her sides, eyes focused on her building in front of her. The moisture collecting along her hairline cooled in the rushing air streaming around her. Her legs felt like fire and she gritted her teeth as her apartment grew near. Her full out run slowed until she came to a halt at the stoop of her apartment. She steadied herself with a hand on the iron wrought railing, the paint chipping along her palm. Rachel looked up to the sky, trying to regain her breathing.
Mrs. Hannaford opened the door to step out onto the landing. “Takes a lot of dedication to run every day,” she reached into the pocket of her deep purple, terrycloth robe, fishing around for a few seconds before pulling out a crushed cigarette. She eyed it accusingly before taking a lighter to the frayed end. Her mass of grey hair was pulled back haphazardly, stray curls breaking away at her brow.
Rachel smiled, not particularly in the mood for conversation, “I need to exercise. It’s the only thing that wakes me up in the morning.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek, dropping down onto the first stair to sit, “That and my overall ambition to make it on Broadway.”
Mrs. Hannaford sat on a stair above Rachel’s, being sure to blow her smoke away from the younger girl, “Your dads had mentioned that.” She flicked the ash over the edge of the stoop, clearing her throat, “You adjusting to the city alright?”
Rachel looked down at her hands as they rubbed along the length of her calves. “I am,” a genuine smile graced her lips as she peered over her shoulder at the elderly woman, “thank you.”
“You seem like a good kid, Ms. Berry.” She stubbed out her cigarette on the edge of the step, “Don’t let the city get the better of you.”
Rachel stood, appreciating the warming stretch of her muscles with the action. She turned to move up the stairs, stopping behind the hunched old woman, “I won’t, Mrs. Hannaford.” She pulled the screen door open to retreat to her apartment. She paused and looked to the woman’s back, “Hope you have a nice day.”
The rest of her morning and afternoon were spent cleaning the apartment. Granted, she’d only been living there for a week, but she needed a way to burn through her jitters. Rachel showered and dressed in black pants and a white t-shirt, the white collared shirt was being issued by Aurora. The uniformity of the servers was key, especially to Frank. Rachel had a mental list of things that Frank approved of. She knew lying was on the list of things he didn’t. She didn’t want to find out any of the others.
Rachel strolled through the doors of Aurora at 4:45pm, making sure to be early for her shift. A few other employees puttered around the restaurant, but Rachel recognized no one. She stepped into the back hallway, peeking into Frank’s office. She knocked gently on the door frame, “Frank? I’m here for my shift.”
Frank peeled his eyes away from the computer screen, “Ah, Ms. Berry.” He stood up from his desk chair, wheeling it backwards. Rachel noted he cleaned up nice. The glasses were gone, his hair slicked back, and he wore black bottoms with a white button down top, to match the servers. His top, however, was accented with a skinny black tie that rolled over his stomach. “Come with me,” he walked past her, motioning for her to follow, “we’ll get you your shirt and set you up with Vanessa to start training.”
A ripple of nerves shot through her stomach as she fell in step behind Frank, taking a left out of his office, further down the hall. She’d been mildly hoping that Abby would be her trainer, but her luck was out. Frank turned into the next doorway, waddling over to a filing cabinet and retrieving a white shirt. “What are you?” he called to her. “Small?”
“Please,” she dropped her bag onto a table that sat in the middle of the room. Lockers ran along the far wall. Rachel figured that this must be the break room.
He handed over the shirt and placed a combination lock in her hand, “You can pick any of the open lockers to stash your things. The combination to the lock,” he held up a little piece of paper, placing that in her hand as well, “is that. The bathroom,” Frank nodded over his shoulder to a doorway by the corner of the lockers, “is there. Meet me out front when you’re all dressed and ready to go.” With that, Frank walked out of the break room, leaving Rachel alone.
She walked over to the line of lockers, picking an open one at her eye level. She stowed her purse and slipped the button down shirt over her t-shirt. She tucked the shirt and continued buttoning as she walked back to the main hall of the restaurant.
From the back hallway door, lodged in the corner of the restaurant, the central room was laid out. Neat little tables were arranged in rows, all lit with a single candle at the center of the table. On the left hand side of the wall, the bar was erected, the shelves behind holding every kind of liquor known to man. On the other side of the wall, there was also a function room that could be rented out for parties or gatherings. When it wasn’t being used as such, on particularly busy nights, it was opened up to serve as another dining hall. The walls a ruby red, the trim a brilliant white, and the wooden furniture modern and dark, the dim restaurant had a romantic appeal to it.
“Berry!” Frank’s voice called to her from the bar. The other servers were gathered around him. The staff tonight consisted of Frank, the auburn haired, cigarette smoking, rude girl from the day of her interview, three other servers, a bartender, and a pair of hosts. As Rachel approached, Frank began the introduction, “Guys, this is our new server, Rachel Berry.”
A mumble of “hey”s and “hello”s murmured through the little group.
“She is in training tonight, so she’s going to be shadowing Vanessa until she learns the ropes to survive alone,” he eyed each of his employees. “Help her out if you see her struggling,” Frank paused, “she’s never done this before.”
Rachel inwardly cringed. Part of her wished the last part had gone unsaid. She didn’t want pity from them and she didn’t want them judging her on her lack of experience.
“It’s nice to meet all of you,” she waved a hand quickly, “and I really look forward to working with each of you.”
They seemed friendly enough, all passing a smile as the group disbanded. The auburn haired girl stayed put with Frank.
Frank handed over a black half-apron to Rachel, “Vanessa, here, is the one to train with. She’s the veteran.”
Rachel’s stomach dropped as a smirk fell across the face of Vanessa, formerly the auburn headed girl. “It’s going to be fun,” her voice warned, “you stay close now.” She got up and moved down the bar.
Rachel quickly tied her apron around her back, moving to stay with her.
Vanessa carried her attitude with her for the first hour of Rachel’s shift. Everything Rachel said she wished she could have taken back. Vanessa was snippy, short, and made Rachel feel like her questions were a waste of time.
“Do you have something to write down orders?” Rachel had asked, which seemed to be a fair question.
Vanessa had sighed and dipped behind the bar, pulling a little leather notepad from a bottom drawer, “Eventually, you won’t need that. If you’d had experience, you wouldn’t.”
Rachel’s pride had been stung, unnecessarily.
Once six o’clock hit and customers flooded the restaurant, Vanessa’s attitude was touch-and-go. She had to be nice when the customers were around, so Rachel did everything in her power to ask questions when customers were within earshot. However, when they ducked into the supply room or break room, the attitude was back with a vengeance.
Rachel didn’t deal with the customers alone. She took a few drink orders and brought a few dishes out to the patrons, but Vanessa or Frank was always nearby to watch her, observe her, watch for her to slip up. All of this added up and caused Rachel’s nerves to be tense. Her anxiety was running high.
At 11 o’clock, Rachel stepped up to the bar and rattled of a drink order to Gerry, the rather jovial and personable bartender. He was Hispanic and very easy on the eyes. His dark skin was the color of caramel, eyes a deep green. The bar was quiet on this particular night and she’d taken advantage to brace her hands on the counter, watching the clock. Just another hour before the kitchen closed, and then another before the restaurant shut its doors. Someone sat down at a seat two over from where she stood, which shook her mind back to reality.
“You’re doing fine, you know,” a voice spoke quietly in her direction.
Rachel snapped her head towards the voice, coming to find Abby to be the most recent visitor of the bar. Her streaked hair ran over her shoulders, straight as an arrow. Dressed in street clothes, the girl was obviously not working tonight. “I don’t know if I can do this,” Rachel confessed quietly, moving over one spot to be that much closer to Abby and keep their conversation hushed.
“Vanessa is a pistol,” Abby said matter-of-factly. She waved to Gerry, requesting his presence, “When you have a minute, Gerry!” The bartender was in the middle of two customers. She turned her attention back to Rachel, dropping her voice once again, “She’s a bitch, actually.” Abby glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one else was in earshot, “You’re doing fine, especially for someone who’s never done this before. Just breathe. Frank is testing you by putting you with her. You make it through training with her on your first night of being a waitress,” she flashed a smile, “and you’ll be better than half of our current employees.”
Gerry slid a bottle of Heineken in front of Abby. “For you girl,” he nodded his head, “you enjoy your night off.” He walked back down the bar to place a tray with two drinks in front of Rachel, “And for your table, pretty girl.”
“Thank you, Gerry,” Rachel said, Abby’s words giving her a renewed sense of confidence. She pulled the tray closer to the edge of the counter and rested her free hand on Abby’s arm, “Thank you, again. I don’t know why you’ve decided to help me, but I appreciate it. I don’t know if you know how much I do.” Rachel lifted the tray, doing her best to balance it with grace, and carried the drinks to her awaiting customers.
The rest of the night flew by. Rachel sucked up all the information laid out by Vanessa. Just as before, Vanessa managed to bring Rachel down a few pegs, but when one o’clock hit, Rachel had survived her first night as a waitress.
Abby remained sitting at the bar, nursing another beer, quietly talking with Gerry. Their heads bowed together, Rachel was hesitant to interrupt. She’d clocked out for the night with a reassuring pat on the arm from Frank. “You did a good job, kid,” he’d told her as he undid his tie. “Very impressive,” he’d nodded and disappeared into the back hallway. As Rachel approached the bar, Gerry smiled in her direction, “Nice work, pretty girl. You made it, eh?”
“Yeah,” Rachel nodded, “yeah, I did.” A genuine smile broke out across her face, unable to hide her excitement.
“Told you so,” Abby said, taking a final draw on her beer. She hopped down from her barstool, “Well, kids,” she draped her bag over her shoulder, “it’s been fun, but I’m going to catch the subway home.”
“Mind if I walk to the subway with you?” Rachel asked quickly. “I just have to grab my bag from out back.”
“Sure,” Abby said with a nod of her head, “I’ll wait.”
Rachel shuffled into the back room to collect her things, returning just as quickly. They waved good-bye to Gerry, who was left to clean the bar.
The duo walked side-by-side down the quieted side streets of late night New York City, walking towards the subway to return to their respective homes. Light chit-chat littered the conversation as they approached the subway, asking about families, where the other lived, small talk. As they stood at the mouth of the subway entrance, slowly descending into the depths, Rachel spoke up, “Can I ask why?”
“Why what?” Abby volleyed back. Rachel raised an eyebrow to in response, knowing full well that she knew what she was asking. Abby laughed, shaking her head, “Alright, alright. There’s just something about you that’s familiar. You seem like a nice person and I believe everyone deserves a chance.” Abby swiped her green subway card through for both Rachel and her. Rachel nodded a “thank you” and let Abby continue her train of thought, “When I heard him flat out turn you away in the office, well, I just thought that was wrong.”
The conversation fell quiet after that as they waited in the underground tunnel. The first train to approach was Abby’s. She stepped to the edge of the platform as the train halted in front of her and the doors slid open. She hopped onto the train and turned back to Rachel, “You’re a good kid, Berry.”
Rachel watched as Abby plunked down into an open seat and waved as the train pulled away. Tonight was a good night, Rachel sighed contentedly as she leaned against the tiled wall, waiting for her train. She closed her eyes for a moment and for the first time that night she realized how exhausted she was. A night on her feet, dealing with customers, dealing with a snobby trainer had drained the life out of her. The soft vibration of an approaching train had her open her eyes, spying her train coming along the tracks.
A happy smile was plastered across her face as she entered the train, took her seat, and rode the train home. The smile remained, even as she curled into her bed and drifted off to slumber.
A/N: Thanks to the reviews and story subscriptions! Thanks to all the readers (I know there’s a whole mess of you!). If you like what you’re reading, please review. I like to hear feedback from everyone.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Rachel takes off to New York City after finishing high school, leaving the people and the life she knew behind. Her goal has always been to be a star. This is the beginning of her story.
Word Count: 2,545
Disclaimer: Glee is not mine, sadly. I just play with the characters in the pieces I write.
| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |
Starting Anew
Chapter 3
Her feet carried her on a steady jog down the street, getting in her daily exercise. Reaching the end of the sidewalk, she jogged in place, waiting for a safe moment to dash across the street. Her muscles pulsed with energy, the familiar warmth spreading deep within them. From the moment she woke up that morning, Rachel was preparing herself for her first shift as a waitress. Everything she did prior to stepping into the restaurant was in preparation for that moment.
She rounded the corner of her street, her apartment building in sight down the road. Taking her jog to a sprint, she charged at full speed, burning through the nervous adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her arms pumped at her sides, eyes focused on her building in front of her. The moisture collecting along her hairline cooled in the rushing air streaming around her. Her legs felt like fire and she gritted her teeth as her apartment grew near. Her full out run slowed until she came to a halt at the stoop of her apartment. She steadied herself with a hand on the iron wrought railing, the paint chipping along her palm. Rachel looked up to the sky, trying to regain her breathing.
Mrs. Hannaford opened the door to step out onto the landing. “Takes a lot of dedication to run every day,” she reached into the pocket of her deep purple, terrycloth robe, fishing around for a few seconds before pulling out a crushed cigarette. She eyed it accusingly before taking a lighter to the frayed end. Her mass of grey hair was pulled back haphazardly, stray curls breaking away at her brow.
Rachel smiled, not particularly in the mood for conversation, “I need to exercise. It’s the only thing that wakes me up in the morning.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek, dropping down onto the first stair to sit, “That and my overall ambition to make it on Broadway.”
Mrs. Hannaford sat on a stair above Rachel’s, being sure to blow her smoke away from the younger girl, “Your dads had mentioned that.” She flicked the ash over the edge of the stoop, clearing her throat, “You adjusting to the city alright?”
Rachel looked down at her hands as they rubbed along the length of her calves. “I am,” a genuine smile graced her lips as she peered over her shoulder at the elderly woman, “thank you.”
“You seem like a good kid, Ms. Berry.” She stubbed out her cigarette on the edge of the step, “Don’t let the city get the better of you.”
Rachel stood, appreciating the warming stretch of her muscles with the action. She turned to move up the stairs, stopping behind the hunched old woman, “I won’t, Mrs. Hannaford.” She pulled the screen door open to retreat to her apartment. She paused and looked to the woman’s back, “Hope you have a nice day.”
The rest of her morning and afternoon were spent cleaning the apartment. Granted, she’d only been living there for a week, but she needed a way to burn through her jitters. Rachel showered and dressed in black pants and a white t-shirt, the white collared shirt was being issued by Aurora. The uniformity of the servers was key, especially to Frank. Rachel had a mental list of things that Frank approved of. She knew lying was on the list of things he didn’t. She didn’t want to find out any of the others.
Rachel strolled through the doors of Aurora at 4:45pm, making sure to be early for her shift. A few other employees puttered around the restaurant, but Rachel recognized no one. She stepped into the back hallway, peeking into Frank’s office. She knocked gently on the door frame, “Frank? I’m here for my shift.”
Frank peeled his eyes away from the computer screen, “Ah, Ms. Berry.” He stood up from his desk chair, wheeling it backwards. Rachel noted he cleaned up nice. The glasses were gone, his hair slicked back, and he wore black bottoms with a white button down top, to match the servers. His top, however, was accented with a skinny black tie that rolled over his stomach. “Come with me,” he walked past her, motioning for her to follow, “we’ll get you your shirt and set you up with Vanessa to start training.”
A ripple of nerves shot through her stomach as she fell in step behind Frank, taking a left out of his office, further down the hall. She’d been mildly hoping that Abby would be her trainer, but her luck was out. Frank turned into the next doorway, waddling over to a filing cabinet and retrieving a white shirt. “What are you?” he called to her. “Small?”
“Please,” she dropped her bag onto a table that sat in the middle of the room. Lockers ran along the far wall. Rachel figured that this must be the break room.
He handed over the shirt and placed a combination lock in her hand, “You can pick any of the open lockers to stash your things. The combination to the lock,” he held up a little piece of paper, placing that in her hand as well, “is that. The bathroom,” Frank nodded over his shoulder to a doorway by the corner of the lockers, “is there. Meet me out front when you’re all dressed and ready to go.” With that, Frank walked out of the break room, leaving Rachel alone.
She walked over to the line of lockers, picking an open one at her eye level. She stowed her purse and slipped the button down shirt over her t-shirt. She tucked the shirt and continued buttoning as she walked back to the main hall of the restaurant.
From the back hallway door, lodged in the corner of the restaurant, the central room was laid out. Neat little tables were arranged in rows, all lit with a single candle at the center of the table. On the left hand side of the wall, the bar was erected, the shelves behind holding every kind of liquor known to man. On the other side of the wall, there was also a function room that could be rented out for parties or gatherings. When it wasn’t being used as such, on particularly busy nights, it was opened up to serve as another dining hall. The walls a ruby red, the trim a brilliant white, and the wooden furniture modern and dark, the dim restaurant had a romantic appeal to it.
“Berry!” Frank’s voice called to her from the bar. The other servers were gathered around him. The staff tonight consisted of Frank, the auburn haired, cigarette smoking, rude girl from the day of her interview, three other servers, a bartender, and a pair of hosts. As Rachel approached, Frank began the introduction, “Guys, this is our new server, Rachel Berry.”
A mumble of “hey”s and “hello”s murmured through the little group.
“She is in training tonight, so she’s going to be shadowing Vanessa until she learns the ropes to survive alone,” he eyed each of his employees. “Help her out if you see her struggling,” Frank paused, “she’s never done this before.”
Rachel inwardly cringed. Part of her wished the last part had gone unsaid. She didn’t want pity from them and she didn’t want them judging her on her lack of experience.
“It’s nice to meet all of you,” she waved a hand quickly, “and I really look forward to working with each of you.”
They seemed friendly enough, all passing a smile as the group disbanded. The auburn haired girl stayed put with Frank.
Frank handed over a black half-apron to Rachel, “Vanessa, here, is the one to train with. She’s the veteran.”
Rachel’s stomach dropped as a smirk fell across the face of Vanessa, formerly the auburn headed girl. “It’s going to be fun,” her voice warned, “you stay close now.” She got up and moved down the bar.
Rachel quickly tied her apron around her back, moving to stay with her.
Vanessa carried her attitude with her for the first hour of Rachel’s shift. Everything Rachel said she wished she could have taken back. Vanessa was snippy, short, and made Rachel feel like her questions were a waste of time.
“Do you have something to write down orders?” Rachel had asked, which seemed to be a fair question.
Vanessa had sighed and dipped behind the bar, pulling a little leather notepad from a bottom drawer, “Eventually, you won’t need that. If you’d had experience, you wouldn’t.”
Rachel’s pride had been stung, unnecessarily.
Once six o’clock hit and customers flooded the restaurant, Vanessa’s attitude was touch-and-go. She had to be nice when the customers were around, so Rachel did everything in her power to ask questions when customers were within earshot. However, when they ducked into the supply room or break room, the attitude was back with a vengeance.
Rachel didn’t deal with the customers alone. She took a few drink orders and brought a few dishes out to the patrons, but Vanessa or Frank was always nearby to watch her, observe her, watch for her to slip up. All of this added up and caused Rachel’s nerves to be tense. Her anxiety was running high.
At 11 o’clock, Rachel stepped up to the bar and rattled of a drink order to Gerry, the rather jovial and personable bartender. He was Hispanic and very easy on the eyes. His dark skin was the color of caramel, eyes a deep green. The bar was quiet on this particular night and she’d taken advantage to brace her hands on the counter, watching the clock. Just another hour before the kitchen closed, and then another before the restaurant shut its doors. Someone sat down at a seat two over from where she stood, which shook her mind back to reality.
“You’re doing fine, you know,” a voice spoke quietly in her direction.
Rachel snapped her head towards the voice, coming to find Abby to be the most recent visitor of the bar. Her streaked hair ran over her shoulders, straight as an arrow. Dressed in street clothes, the girl was obviously not working tonight. “I don’t know if I can do this,” Rachel confessed quietly, moving over one spot to be that much closer to Abby and keep their conversation hushed.
“Vanessa is a pistol,” Abby said matter-of-factly. She waved to Gerry, requesting his presence, “When you have a minute, Gerry!” The bartender was in the middle of two customers. She turned her attention back to Rachel, dropping her voice once again, “She’s a bitch, actually.” Abby glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one else was in earshot, “You’re doing fine, especially for someone who’s never done this before. Just breathe. Frank is testing you by putting you with her. You make it through training with her on your first night of being a waitress,” she flashed a smile, “and you’ll be better than half of our current employees.”
Gerry slid a bottle of Heineken in front of Abby. “For you girl,” he nodded his head, “you enjoy your night off.” He walked back down the bar to place a tray with two drinks in front of Rachel, “And for your table, pretty girl.”
“Thank you, Gerry,” Rachel said, Abby’s words giving her a renewed sense of confidence. She pulled the tray closer to the edge of the counter and rested her free hand on Abby’s arm, “Thank you, again. I don’t know why you’ve decided to help me, but I appreciate it. I don’t know if you know how much I do.” Rachel lifted the tray, doing her best to balance it with grace, and carried the drinks to her awaiting customers.
The rest of the night flew by. Rachel sucked up all the information laid out by Vanessa. Just as before, Vanessa managed to bring Rachel down a few pegs, but when one o’clock hit, Rachel had survived her first night as a waitress.
Abby remained sitting at the bar, nursing another beer, quietly talking with Gerry. Their heads bowed together, Rachel was hesitant to interrupt. She’d clocked out for the night with a reassuring pat on the arm from Frank. “You did a good job, kid,” he’d told her as he undid his tie. “Very impressive,” he’d nodded and disappeared into the back hallway. As Rachel approached the bar, Gerry smiled in her direction, “Nice work, pretty girl. You made it, eh?”
“Yeah,” Rachel nodded, “yeah, I did.” A genuine smile broke out across her face, unable to hide her excitement.
“Told you so,” Abby said, taking a final draw on her beer. She hopped down from her barstool, “Well, kids,” she draped her bag over her shoulder, “it’s been fun, but I’m going to catch the subway home.”
“Mind if I walk to the subway with you?” Rachel asked quickly. “I just have to grab my bag from out back.”
“Sure,” Abby said with a nod of her head, “I’ll wait.”
Rachel shuffled into the back room to collect her things, returning just as quickly. They waved good-bye to Gerry, who was left to clean the bar.
The duo walked side-by-side down the quieted side streets of late night New York City, walking towards the subway to return to their respective homes. Light chit-chat littered the conversation as they approached the subway, asking about families, where the other lived, small talk. As they stood at the mouth of the subway entrance, slowly descending into the depths, Rachel spoke up, “Can I ask why?”
“Why what?” Abby volleyed back. Rachel raised an eyebrow to in response, knowing full well that she knew what she was asking. Abby laughed, shaking her head, “Alright, alright. There’s just something about you that’s familiar. You seem like a nice person and I believe everyone deserves a chance.” Abby swiped her green subway card through for both Rachel and her. Rachel nodded a “thank you” and let Abby continue her train of thought, “When I heard him flat out turn you away in the office, well, I just thought that was wrong.”
The conversation fell quiet after that as they waited in the underground tunnel. The first train to approach was Abby’s. She stepped to the edge of the platform as the train halted in front of her and the doors slid open. She hopped onto the train and turned back to Rachel, “You’re a good kid, Berry.”
Rachel watched as Abby plunked down into an open seat and waved as the train pulled away. Tonight was a good night, Rachel sighed contentedly as she leaned against the tiled wall, waiting for her train. She closed her eyes for a moment and for the first time that night she realized how exhausted she was. A night on her feet, dealing with customers, dealing with a snobby trainer had drained the life out of her. The soft vibration of an approaching train had her open her eyes, spying her train coming along the tracks.
A happy smile was plastered across her face as she entered the train, took her seat, and rode the train home. The smile remained, even as she curled into her bed and drifted off to slumber.
A/N: Thanks to the reviews and story subscriptions! Thanks to all the readers (I know there’s a whole mess of you!). If you like what you’re reading, please review. I like to hear feedback from everyone.