With a light yawn, Scotti plopped down on the couch first. Everyone else (except Sebastian, he took the floor again) sat next to him. "So, what are you lovely folks in the mood for?" the brunette asked.

"Anything," Sebastian groaned, flopping over so that he was laying flat on the floor. "I'm fucking starving."

"Okay. How about pizza?" Savannah suggested. She was a firm believer in the opinion that you can never go wrong with pizza.

"Nah, I don't want that," Sebastian replied, without hesitation. It took a few moments for his contradiction to hit him, and when it did, he grinned, without saying a word.

Snake looked at him incredulously. "You literally just said—"

"Shut up. Give me something else."

"Um—" Savannah began, trying to think of something, but Rachel cut her off:

"Chinese food. That shit really hits the spot."

Sebastian sat up, grunting at the effort (he didn't use his hands; he instead did that sit-up maneuver that people who work out do). He chuckled. "You're not gonna believe this..."

"Sebastian!" Rachel laughed.

"Somebody's picky!" Scotti huffed. "Burger King."

   "No," Rob responded immediately. "I hate it there."

   "Subway," Rachel suggested.

   Snake shook his head violently. "No! I want something unhealthy, damn it!"

   "It probably is unhealthy, to be fair." Savannah thought for a minute, then said, "All right, if unhealthy is the route you wanna take, what about McDonald's?"

   "YES!" Snake and Sebastian shrieked at the same time, causing Savannah to lurch a little in surprise.

   "Sure," Rachel agreed.

   Scotti imagined greasy food and felt his stomach turn, since he was still hungover and very nauseous. But, despite the vomit-inducing characteristics of the food, it sounded good to him as well. So, he figured he'd face the consequences of indulging, come what may. That was future Scotti's problem; present Scotti could live a little. "What the hell. Why not?"

   Everyone looked at Rob for his approval. The man groaned, knowing that he would much rather get something else, but that nothing would get decided in the near future if he didn't acquiesce. "Fine."

   "Cool. I'm assuming you guys want your usuals?" Rachel asked, hopping up from the couch.

   Savannah smiled at how Rachel knew her McDonald's order. Granted, it was a pretty basic order that anyone could throw around in a lucky guess (a ten piece nugget with a medium fry, a small chocolate milkshake, and a lemonade), but she knew he wasn't guessing. He remembered. And that made her feel good. "Yeah."

   The rest of the band all confirmed they wanted their usuals. "All right," Rachel responded. "Does anyone wanna come with me to pick it up?"

   None of the Skids volunteered; they were still lazy from the night prior's events.

   So, because Savannah felt bad and wanted to keep Rachel company, she raised her hand, standing up. "I will."

   Rachel looked pleased to have a volunteer. "All right, let's go."

She nodded, saying her goodbyes to her colleagues before slipping out of the house with Rachel. The cold air hit her face, and she sighed happily. She couldn't place why, but sometimes air with a bit of a bite to it felt so nice to her.

Rachel and her walked to his car, hopping in once all the doors were unlocked. "All right!" Rachel said, starting the car. They both buckled up, and he began to drive. "And, we're off."

"We are, indeed." She nodded, putting one leg over the other as she sat. Whenever she was in a car, she always sat like that. Rachel often commented on it, since it was such a stark contrast to how she usually sat: legs spread, looking unprofessional. That's why she often wore shorts under he skirts; so that she wouldn't have the burden of sitting like a normal person.

"So, tell me," Rachel began, glancing at her before looking back at the road, "what do you think of the guys so far?"

She smiled at him. "I like them a lot. They're so nice and welcoming. And they're very willing to trust me and listen to what I have to say."

   "Yeah, they are." He chuckled a little before continuing. "It's unusual. They usually fuck around with the new meat. I guess it means they like you. Or feel sorry for you."

   "Hey, I'm not above accepting pity," said Savannah. "As long as it works out in my favor." She paused a little, then spoke again. "So, are you sure they actually like me? Have they said anything?"

   Rachel grinned. "They love you. Honest to God. As soon as you left after the interview, pretty much everyone was insistent that you work here."

   She quirked a brow. "'Pretty much?'"

   He nodded, glancing at her a little awkwardly. "Yeah. Snake was a little skeptical because of all that shit that went down with you and Deadly Complacency."

   Savannah couldn't be mad at that. To an employer, that was a huge red flag. "And that was within his right. How did you guys manage to convince him?"

   "We just told him that you can't judge someone based off of someone else's definition of bad behavior, saying how if things went wrong, we could fire you and that would be that." He cringed at how mean that sounded. "But I think all of us knew we wouldn't have to." He paused a little before saying, "Sebastian actually got really pissed with Snake for that."

She couldn't help but smile at that. "Really?"

"Yeah. He flipped out. He called Snake shallow and was practically shaking with anger." He glanced at her again with a smile. "He really likes you, Sav. I think out of all of the guys, he likes you the most."

That felt good to know. It was sweet that Sebastian was completely willing to stick up for a girl he had just met. Savannah could picture it, too. He had that welcoming personality to jump into an angry tirade about why she deserved a chance.

"Aww," she said. "I can totally picture that. He's a really nice guy."

Rachel nodded. "Yeah, but I still don't know why he got so pissed. Sebastian's a very angry guy, and he rages over pointless shit. But, I feel like even he usually manages shit like that better."

"Maybe he's just super in tune with my awesomeness," she remarked jokingly.

"By the way he sang your praises, I would not doubt it," he chuckled. "He even called you cute. Fuckin' weirdo."

A smile tugged at her lips at that, and she knew that it was probably apparent that she felt the same way about him. She looked out the window, watching the scenery pass by. "I'm flattered."

There was a moment of silence, which she broke. "So, I'm assuming Snake feels a little more positively about me now? You know, given the fact that he hired me and all."

"Oh, yeah," Rachel replied. "What we told him yesterday really convinced him, and he seems really happy about your work so far."

"Speaking of my work, this is it? I put together outfits, and that concludes my responsibilities?"

Rachel looked at her quizzically. "Yeah. What else would you do as the fashion director?"

"I don't know. It just seems awfully. . .easy, and almost like I'm not doing enough. Normally, I have a lot harder of a time with my new jobs because I have so much to do. And because this is it, it feels weird."

He laughed. "You're just a natural at this, that's all. That's why it feels like you're not doing enough. You've had to work at a lot of your jobs, which explains why it felt like you were doing a lot there. But, trust me, with this job, you're doing great, and you're doing just the right amount." A giddy smile spread across his face. "I can't wait to wear my outfit for the shoot tomorrow."

Savannah smiled in return. "You looked badass in it today, and you'll look just as badass in it tomorrow."

"Thanks. Hey, do you wanna come to the shoot tomorrow? That way you'll see us all in our outfits together, and you'll be able to make any last minute tweaks that you need to make?"

"Yeah, sure!" she replied. She had nothing else to do, and she admitted that she wanted to bask in her fashion intelligence as she saw her colleagues, posing and looking gorgeous.

"All right." Rachel pulled into the McDonald's drive thru, waiting for the car in front of him to pull up so he could order. He turned to Savannah, looking at her intently. He beamed. "I'm so happy you work with me now."

She rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. "Oh boy, Rach is getting sappy."

"Hey, my best friend is working with me. I have the right to be sappy!" he pouted in reply. He crossed his arms. "I'll never be grateful for you again."

"And now he's pouting," she teased.

"And now he's contemplating murder," he snapped back.

The two colleagues stared at each other for a few moments before bursting into laughter.

The car in front of Rachel pulled up, so he did, too, still giggling as he reached the speaker. His happy expression changed into a serious one as he tried to get his giggles under control.

The chipper voice of a McDonald's worker came out of the speaker. "Thank you for choosing McDonald's, what can I get for you?"

Rachel ordered everyone's food (Savannah's and Sebastian's nuggets, his and Rob's Big Macs, Snake's Filet-O-Fish, and Scotti's Quarter Pounder with cheese and bacon) and drinks, pulling forward once he was done.

Him and Savannah got their food and drinks from the window, then ended up waiting a criminal amount of time in the parking lot for the fries to be ready. They waited for so long that they agreed that the staff must have forgotten about them. But, their fries ended up being delivered, and Savannah grabbed one from the bag and popped it into her mouth. She didn't know what it was about the fries from McDonald's, but every time they were within a foot of her, she needed to grab one.

That one turned into six as her and Rachel drove back to the house. "Save some for when we get back, Jesus Christ," he commented.

She flipped him off. "I made it through my first day of work. The least you can do is let me pick at my fries."

"Please, like your first day was so hard," he scoffed. "You said it yourself, it was so easy."

"I had to interact with people," she countered, popping another fry into her mouth. "While, yes, the working part was easy, the interacting part wasn't."

"Oh, shut up. You were having so much fun with everyone."

"You can't read my mind. You don't know that."

"True. But, I'm still right. And you can't prove that I'm not."

"But I can shove my foot so far up your ass that my shoe comes out of your mouth."

"Why must you always choose violence?" he asked with a shake of his head.

"Because it's the option that will shut you up."

Rachel hit Savannah playfully, and she retaliated with a playful hit back.

And that was how the rest of the ride home went: Rachel and Savannah hitting each other and most definitely showing poor driving safety skills. She tickled him as well, which resulted in a few jerks of the steering wheel that would've ran them off the road if done on a greater scale.

Finally, after a few more minutes of being adult children, they both made it to the Skids' place of residence. Rachel pulled into the driveway, which contained one more car that Savannah recognized from yesterday and earlier today (the rest of the Skids' cars were parked on the street near the house), and one she didn't.

"Oh, Doc's here," Rachel commented, putting the car in park.

This made a wave of excitement crash over her. Rachel had informed her that Doc McGhee managed Skid Row, and that fact had amazed her. Doc had managed so many successful bands, the most notable to her being Mötley Crüe. The man was a legend in her eyes, and she would get to meet him. That was absurd.

As Rachel took the keys out of the ignition and opened the door, Savannah realized that this whole thing was absurd. A casual McDonald's feast with the members of Skid Row, a new job where all she had to do was put together outfits, decent money coming in. . . Meeting Doc was just the cherry on top.

As she grabbed the McDonald's bags and the drink tray (not everyone wanted drinks, so there was only one), that Rachel couldn't carry, she thought to herself, My life rules. This job is gonna be amazing, after all.