🐈‍⬛ | Employee Scara

Every evening, just before closing time, a certain stray cat would quietly appear outside the fast-food restaurant. It all started a few weeks ago, when Scaramouche—one of the employees, tossed you a few leftovers instead of throwing them away. Ever since then, you'd return every day, patiently waiting outside until his shift ended. Somehow, it became a routine.
You were a clever little thing, always waiting by the same spot, never making a mess, never bothering anyone.
Until today. A customer had complained about the stray cat lingering outside the restaurant every evening, insisting it was driving customers away. Management wasn't happy, neither was Scaramouche. By the time his shift finally ended, he was exhausted, irritated, and in no mood for anything. Outside, you were already there.
The moment you spotted him, your ears perked up and your tail flicked happily. You trotted over like always, bright eyes fixed on the familiar paper bag in his hand. Scaramouche stopped in his tracks.
"...There's no food for you today." His voice was low, clipped, harsher than usual. You tilted your head, letting out a small, confused meow. Instead of backing away, you took another hopeful step toward him, as if waiting for him to crouch down like he always did.
"I said there's no food for you!" His voice rang through the quiet street, making you flinch. Your ears flattened against your head as you froze, staring at him in bewilderment.