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Name: Gwen
Age: 15
Looks: Short, red hair and brown eyes. Loves the color blue, that's mainly what she wears.

Personality: Calm, smart. Average, not cool or nerdy. Extremely handy, can fix almost anything. A good chef, but cannot get up on stage for the life of her.

Daisy walked into the mall, scouting for the evasive Hiring signs. She understood that her parents needed a little more money, and she wanted to help, but why couldn't she work in her parents' shop? That's what she had wanted to do, but her younger sister Sunflower had gotten the job because she was too young to get a normal job. So Daisy had been exiled to the mass of stores in the mall. Her mother had helped her pick out an outfit that morning, something that said "I'm responsible but not snobby, and I'm a people person". Basically, an outfit that lied for her. She was not a people person, and she found it doubtful that a cute t-shirt and nice, unripped jeans would get her a job. So as soon as she was out of the house, she changed into her normal gear.
There was a For Hire sign in the window of a perfume store, but that meant spraying perfume at passersby all day. Another was in Hot Dog on a Stick, but the striped hat was not an option. The final option was Skirts 'n Stuff, a store with... well... skirts and stuff. She walked in, holding her breath. I hope this works, she thought.

Gwen walked into the mall, right at opening time. time for another fun filled day at my job she thought, rather sarcasticly. She smiled and walked into the Hotdog on a Stick. well, It could be worse... she thought, looking at the janitor. She walked in and put on the hat and apron. She honestly got the job by choice, not because she had to. She chose to put on the stupid hat and an even stupider smile six days a week, from eight am to four pm. all for roughly five bucks an hour. five dollars an hour, for eight hours a day, would be fourty dollars a day. fourty times six would be two hundred fourty dollars a week. She did this math in her head. two hundred fourty to pay for Dipers, makeup, fancy hair gels, babyfood, and then all the things I want to buy... she thought as she walked up to the register. She secretly hoped that someone else would come to work with her, but the hats were normally a huge turn-off.

Name:Jason
Age:16
Looks:
Personality:Shy Calm Handy (When needed) & Bipolar

Gwen smiled sweetly. "One moment please." she said as she went into the back room. She returned with a tall, dressy man. He didn't wear the uniform, but had a nametag that said 'Mr. Manson'
"Hello there, How may I help you today, young man?" he said, with a thick southern accent. He put a hand on Gwen's shoulder to show the close "Family" the workers had. Gwen smiled, but silently cursed him in her head. He was nice enough, but annoying. Always trying to teach her "Life Lessons" about "responsibility." I know responsibility! I have a faimly to take care of, jack-a**! She thought, beaming now at the hidious insults she shot at him mentally.
"Would you like to join the faimly? We could use another worker!" Gwen said quickly. She would be dammed if she had to spend another day alone.
"Now, Gwen, Sweet-cakes..." Mr. Manson said slowly.
Sweet cakes? SWEET CAKES? That a**-cake! Who did he think he was!?! That was so creepy! For a moment, her smile fell, but there it was a few seconds later, bright and perky. Oh, how she hated this job.

Mr. Manson sighed. "Very well," he said slowly, in his thick southern drawl, "Gwen, you train him. You will be paied Fourty dollars a day, your paycheck is once a month. Your hours are eleven am. to seven pm. Gwen, could ya work overtime today?"
She nodded. Perfect. Just perfect. She thought annoyedly. She pulled out a striped hat and an apron.
"Here, put this on." she said, handing them to the new boy. "By the way, I didn't catch your name." she said, waiting calmly.

Twenty minutes later, Daze was fired.
It had happened like this.
She had been quickly hired at Skirts 'n Stuff, who was apparently slowly going bankrupt and desperately needed desperate people willing to work for cheap. Very cheap. So she took the job, for eighty cents more than minimum wage. She had been stuck in the back of the store, taking stock and reading the book she had stowed in her pocket. There wasn't much to do, except hang up skirts. That got old fast. She pulled out her phone, to find that she had no reception. Not to be a typical teenager, but she NEEDED her phone. It made her feel safe.
So, accidentally, she had wandered out into the store.
Much to the dismay of her fellow salespeople, the store emptied rather quickly. The manager was swift to inform her that unless she changed her "attitude" (aka hair and clothing style) she would be out of a job.
And so she was.
So that's one job down. Guess I'd better go see if that perfume store is still hiring.
It wasn't.
With a sigh, she walked to Hot Dog on a Stick, which still had the "hiring" sign. There were several people standing outside, and one of them was wearing a striped hat. Oh crap, this is my last chance.
"Excuse me, are you still hiring?" she asked the man in the suit.