Onto The Starz [Dee]

The new person I noticed approaches me asking if she could sit here. I don't mind it at all. I would have been eating alone today otherwise. She must be new here. I want to help show her around if she needs help. Ripred knows these machines are still a pain in the arse to operate even now after many years. I take another bite of the sandwich contemplating the potential state of the factory if new people are being hired again. We must be doing well if more workers are being hired.

The woman speaks again and introduces herself as Europa. An incredibly rare name. I instantly think of Europa Wie, but she doesn't mention her last name. Maybe she doesn't want anyone to know or maybe it's someone else entirely. Either way though, I won't say anything if my guess on who she might be is true. Her business is her business. "Sure, why not? I would have been eating alone otherwise. Tell me. You new here? I've never seen you around. Figured by now that I'd have seen your face." I wait for her to answer. If she isn't new, then I must be incredibly unobservant. I let out a small chuckle just imagining how clueless I might be.

My eyes never left her as I set my sandwich down in front of me. Lunch hour isn't very long, but it's a chance to eat and feel refreshed before starting the second half of my shift. And now that I don't have to eat alone makes me happy. It feels like the first time in ages. I pick up my drink as she starts talking about how this is her first day working full time because she usually works part time. That makes sense as to why I've never seen her around before. Setting my drink back down, I'm about to take another bite of my sandwich when she notices the grime on my hands. "That explains why I never see you around." I nod my head before shoveling another bite of food into my mouth.

"The grime on your hands... do you have trouble getting it off?" It's such a simple question, but somehow it catches my attention. In a matter of seconds I feel like something has changed. I have had so much trouble trying to scrub all the grime from my hands. Endless hours are spent scrubbing away until my knuckles are bloody and raw. It hurts, and I hate it, but I have learned to deal with it. A small smile twists across my face as she mentions her mother makes a scrub that could help.

Of course I would use it. If it gets all this off my hands so I can live a halfway normal life without people staring at me everywhere I go. It's not even a question that needs to be asked, but of course, it's always polite to ask. "Yeah, I would love some of it. Anything to get this grime off my hand, and as long as it doesn't make them bloody and raw, I'll be fine." I say quietly before picking up my drink once more.