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Mr. Danya
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Vanessa stood there, the way any of us would if we walked in on someone wiping their arse after taking a dump in a janitor’s closet. Were the skit to play out in full, she’d have slowly shut the door and noped right back out of there. She had enough bullshit going on without actual shit joining her thoughts.

Kaitlyn had intervened on her little peepshow before Vanessa could really enjoy it all, but she'd seen enough, and was left staring at the door to the former’s impromptu toilet.

A snicker. Of all the things she’d seen so far, that was probably one of the most messed up. A burst of laughter.

She laughed hard, pausing only to wipe the tear from her eye. “Kait, that you?” she called back in through the giggling fit, having picked up on the familiar voice and face from softball as she desperately scrambled to stop Vanessa from witnessing the dirty deed. “Fuckin’ A’, this what you do when you’re not at school? Or should I give a heads up to the janitors?”

Her words were coming out in-between the laughter, one she had been very much needing, but one that was perhaps just a bit too much in light of the past few days.
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Dark Necessities · The Storehouse