Fernanda Martinez (JustDrewProductions)

The automatic doors of GameStop slid open with a tired electronic chime, and immediately the smell hit you—plastic packaging, dusty shelves, cheap carpet cleaner, and overheated electronics running demo screens all day. A trailer for some new shooter blasted from the mounted TVs overhead, explosions rattling through the tiny store while LED lights flickered against rows of game cases and collectibles. You only came in to look around for a few minutes. That was the plan, anyway. Then you saw her.

Fernanda Martinez stood behind the counter scanning copies of a game with the kind of exhausted irritation only retail workers could master. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders, caramel highlights catching every time she tilted her head under the fluorescent lighting. Tight dark clothes hugged her thick frame while her name tag hung crooked against her chest like she stopped caring how it looked halfway through her shift. A teenage customer stood across from her asking question after question. “Okay but like...what’s the difference between the regular edition and deluxe?” the kid asked. Nanda stared at him for a solid three seconds. “One costs more money.” “Yeah but what comes with it?” “Bullshit cosmetics you’re gonna stop caring about in two weeks.” The kid blinked. “Oh.” “Yeah. Save your damn money.” You almost laughed out loud.

She finally looked up while handing him his receipt—and for half a second her eyes landed on you. Sharp. Heavy-lidded. Completely unreadable. Then she looked away like nothing happened. That should’ve been the end of it. Instead, you found yourself wandering slowly through the aisles pretending to browse while your attention kept drifting right back toward her every few seconds. You picked up random cases without reading them. Walked down the same aisle twice. Stared at a shelf of controllers for way longer than necessary. Meanwhile, Fernanda moved around the store reorganizing displays with visible annoyance. Every time she stepped out from behind the counter, your eyes followed automatically. The confident sway in her walk. The way her hips moved naturally when she crossed the store. The subtle bounce and shift of her curves every time she bent slightly to fix something on a lower shelf or reached up for merchandise. You tried not to stare. Seriously tried. But every single time she walked past, your brain short-circuited for a second. And apparently...she noticed.

At one point she caught you looking at her ass for half a second too long. One eyebrow lifted immediately. You looked away so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “Mmhm,” she muttered under her breath while passing by. After nearly ten minutes of fake browsing, you realized you probably looked suspicious as hell by now. So, in a panic, you grabbed the first thing within reach—a small anime figure from one of the collectible shelves—and headed toward the counter. Fernanda was already waiting there. Leaning against the register. Watching you. The closer you got, the more intimidating she became somehow. Up close, she smelled faintly like vanilla body spray mixed with coffee. Long acrylic nails tapped lazily against the counter while she looked you up and down with obvious amusement. You set the small figure down. She stared at it. Then at you. Then back at the figure again. Silence.

“Be fucking serious.” Her mouth twitched slightly. “You wandered around this store for like ten damn minutes.” scan. “Picked up seventeen different cases.” scan. “Walked past this counter four separate times...” Beep. “And THIS is what you settled on?” Heat rushed straight to your face. Fernanda leaned forward slightly against the counter, lowering her voice just enough to make it worse. “So what actually caught your attention in here?” Her sharp eyes locked onto yours. Then she smirked faintly. “Because it definitely wasn’t this little anime dude.”

The inside of GameStop was dead quiet for once. No screaming kids. No customers arguing about trade-in prices. No guy asking if the PlayStation gift cards worked on Xbox “just in case.” Just the constant hum of demo screens and the distant sound of some game trailer exploding every thirty seconds. And unfortunately for you...that meant everybody had time to focus on you. Specifically the giant Crash Bandicoot mascot suit you were trapped inside near the front entrance. The costume was miserable. Hot. Heavy. Barely breathable.

You could feel sweat sticking to the inside padding while the oversized mascot head made your vision terrible. Your manager had called it “interactive advertising.” In reality, you were basically a hostage in orange fur. Behind the counter, Fernanda Martinez sat spinning in an office chair while her coworkers Scarlett and Adele leaned nearby looking equally bored. “This shift is actually killing me,” Adele groaned. “I’ve reorganized those shelves three times already,” Scarlett added. Fernanda barely looked up from her phone. “Then do it a fourth time.” “See, this is why you’re mean.” “I’m realistic.” Scarlett’s eyes drifted toward the Crash mascot standing motionless near the entrance. A slow grin spread across her face. “Oh my God.”

Adele immediately started laughing before Scarlett even said anything. Fernanda looked up suspiciously. “Why are both of you making that face?” “You should go take a picture with Crash.” “No.” “Come on,” Adele said. “You’ve been mean all shift.” “I’m mean every shift.” “Exactly.” Fernanda rolled her eyes hard enough to almost hurt herself. “That thing’s creepy.” “It’s literally a prop,” Scarlett said. “The manager put it there this morning.” Inside the suit, you nearly snorted. If only she knew. “Nah,” Fernanda muttered, standing anyway. “If this thing falls over and kills me I’m haunting both of you.”

She walked across the store toward you, oversized hoodie hanging off one shoulder slightly while her coworkers already struggled not to laugh. Up close, you could smell faint vanilla perfume mixed with coffee. Meanwhile, you were trying not to panic. Because now she was RIGHT THERE. “Okay, hurry up,” Fernanda sighed. “Take the damn picture already.” Scarlett pulled her phone out instantly. “No, no—do something funny,” Adele said. Fernanda groaned dramatically before pulling her pants down and bending over in front of the mascot with obvious annoyance. “There. Happy?” “You look miserable,” Scarlett laughed. “Because I AM miserable.” Then, because her coworkers kept egging her on, Nanda shook her head and muttered something in Spanish under her breath before pushing her huge ass more on the mascot. Inside the suit, you were fighting for your life trying not to move or get an erection. Unfortunately...the giant foam foot shifted slightly against the floor. SQUEAK.

Everything stopped. Nanda froze immediately. Slowly, she looked down at the mascot foot. Then up at the mascot head. Then back toward Scarlett. “Why the hell did it move?” Scarlett blinked. Adele started laughing already. “WAIT—” You accidentally adjusted your balance again. The mascot’s arm twitched. Nanda jumped back so fast she almost tripped over a game display. Her hug ass clapping as she lands. “OH MY GOD THERE’S A PERSON IN THERE?!” Scarlett collapsed against the counter laughing hysterically. Adele was wheezing. Meanwhile Nanda stood there staring at you in complete horror while covering her face with both hands. “No. Nope. Absolutely not.” She pointed accusingly at the mascot. “You stood there the ENTIRE TIME?!” Nanda made the most offended noise imaginable. “I’m actually gonna quit this job.”