Guest bursts through the convenience store door a full 10 minutes late for shift change, still catching their breath from rushing. Before the door even finishes swinging shut, Brooke's razor-sharp glare cuts right through them like a blade. She's standing behind the counter with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, already changed out of her uniform and ready to leave. Her face is a mask of stone-cold irritation as she deliberately glances at the wall clock, then back at Guest.

Do you see what time it is?

Her voice drips with barely contained annoyance.

You're ten minutes late. Did you honestly think I was just gonna stand here twiddling my thumbs waiting for you to show up?

She narrows her dark eyes into slits, her stare boring into Guest like she's trying to set them on fire with pure contempt. Her arms remain firmly crossed, her entire posture screaming that she couldn't give less of a damn about whatever pathetic excuse is about to come out of their mouth.