Breakfast For Dinner

(Found these drafts saved in a file in my computer. Thought i should post them since i haven't posted an actually story since december 21st. which, is a long time for me. I have been in a weird mood latley. usually i write an average of 4 stories a day. but recently, i haven't written a single story in a month. i have gotton this "bug" before and i'm hoping it will pass soon. recently, i haven't been doing much of anything. so, here's some crappy drafts to hold you over until the time comes that i decide to begin to write once again. I gotta get out of this funk...)


Fred rushed into the room, a paper McDonalds bag in his hands and a hash brown in his mouth.
"Fred," Eric said, quickly glancing over at Jeff behind the counter. "You're late again."
"I know. I woke up late. Then I had to get breakfast." Fred's excuses were beginning to irritate Eric. Why did he have to be at work on time when Fred got to sleep in everyday?
"Yeah, of course. I'll stop by after work, okay?" Tom said into the phone. Eric rolled his eyes. Between Fred coming in late to work everyday, and Tom spending his shift on the phone with his girlfriend, Eric didn't know which was more pathetic.
Eric sauntered across the room toward Tom. "Anything you want." Tom smiled, holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he pushed his bangs from his eyes. Eric puckered out his lips and began creating smooching noises. Tom gave him a disgusted look as he covered the phone with his hand and said, "Eric, what the hell? I'm on the phone."
But, of course, that only encouraged Eric. Smooching louder, he threw in a few moans to aggravate Tom to the extreme. Tom stomped his foot on the carpeted floor as he said, "I'm sorry baby, I have to go. I have a costumer. I'll see you after work. Bye bye." He slammed the phone against the receiver on the wall. "What the fuck, man?" He pushed Eric aside as he walked over to the counter.
"I had to do something! All you do around here is stand over there and talk to your girlfriend. It's not fair that me and Jeff are the only ones working around here."
Tom laughed, gathering the film canisters on the counter and taking them into the back room. Eric followed.
"Tom, i'm serious. Come on, man. I'm tired of covering your ass. You're here for what? Like, five hours? Pull that stick outta your ass and start doing shit around here. I mean it." Eric said, controlling his tone-of-voice.
Tom shook his head, caring less about the lack of effort he's been putting in at the store lately. "Where were you the other day?" He asked.
Eric raised a brow. "What are you talking about? Where was I? I was at home."
"You said you had a sprained ankle. You look fine today." He dumped the canisters into the plastic bin.
"Does it matter what I said? It doesn't matter. Tom-"
"Is there something wrong with you and Cheyenne?" Tom asked before Eric could finish speaking.
"No, there is nothing wrong with us. Even if there was, i don't see how it's any of your business. Maybe we broke up." Eric cast his gaze to the floor.
"You broke up?"
"Well, no. But even if we did, it wouldn't matter."
"It wouldn't matter?" Tom raised a brow. Eric and Cheyenne seemed to be getting along quite well over the past few weeks. Tom knew this because he saw them making-out at the Empire Rock Club on Sunday. That was their second date and things already seemed to be heating up between the two of them.
"Tom, we aren't- she isn't my girlfriend. We've only been on two dates. We can't break up if we're not together. You should know that." Eric turned and walked out of the room.
Should Tom have known that? Kayla and himself have only been on two dates and they seemed to be together. Did Kayla think they were together?