New Day Rising - Chapter Two
Title: New Day Rising (2/10)
Author: scyllaya
Artist: lynndyre
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Gabriel/Dean, OCs
Warning(s): graphic sexual content, mentions of past major character deaths, depressed!Dean, some H/C, umm… spiders?
Spoiler(s): none, AU
Word Count: ~ 26 400
Summary: Dean’s life does not look good at all, and that’s putting it mildly. He’s lost everything that he ever cared for. He’s tired of his life, frankly, he’s tired of everything, but things are about to change beyond his imagination. He needs to learn that the world is not the place he believed it to be, and that there is still more to life for him than just guilt and misery. It all starts with an unexpected one-night stand, and a new job at a strange music shop, with an even stranger owner.
Beta: uliamos
Chapter Two
Dean blinked open his eyes and recognized his bedroom ceiling and the smell and feel of his own bed after a few moments. After that came the feel of the state of his body. He was aching… everywhere. His thighs were tired, his muscles sore, his whole back hurt and his backside even more so, his skin felt tender and bruised on many places, his mouth especially. But all of that aside he felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. He was well rested too, which was weird considering last night. He definitely slept more than the handful of hours he managed most of the time. And holy shit, who gave a damn about sore muscles and bruises, when he had the best sex of his life. Some parts of the night felt like they were plucked straight out of his wet dreams or regular jerk-off fantasies. And to make it all better, he didn’t even feel hungover, so that was great too. He did feel lazy though, not wanting to get out of bed just yet, and it’s not like he had a job to worry about, so he didn’t have a reason to get up.
He rolled over in his bed and stretched languidly, feeling his muscles stretch (and ache), his bones pop satisfyingly. His brain finally realized that he was alone in bed, which was not unusual, but he did not go to bed alone last night. Well, Gabriel obviously had seen himself out. Dean was not a big fan of morning-afters, so this was for the best, but... well, he could admit that it was not just sex, but phenomenal sex, and phenomenal sex was something he liked to have more than once. He should’ve asked for a phone-number, maybe Gabriel would’ve been willing to hook up again sometime. Oh well, nothing to do.
Despite feeling lazy Dean got up from bed and hit the shower to get on with his day. He didn’t have a job, but he did need one, and he’s not gonna find one without looking for it, and fast. He was way late with rent and he barely had enough cash to pay for gas, he loved his baby, but she was a monster when it came to consumption. The hot shower did wonders to his sore muscles and he felt fresh and alive when he stepped out of the bathroom. He put on some clean clothes he found and headed to the kitchen for some breakfast. He didn’t buy coffee for a while now (he had to cut his costs), but luckily he did feel enough energy to move forward today without one. Seriously, he really needed last night, a great top to fuck him stupid, he couldn’t really remember when the last time that happened was. If he thought about it, it was one of his best birthdays in a very long time. It was sure an awesome way to start his thirties. Hell, he was feeling friggin’ optimistic today, and that usually didn’t happen at all.
He drank a glass of water then turned to the fridge to see if there was anything edible in it, and he stopped short when he noticed the unfamiliar green note on the fridge-door. He plucked the note down and had the urge to smile. He didn’t, but the urge was there and that was a novelty on its own.
Catch you later, big boy
206-697-7666
~ GL
Dean was about to put on his jacket and get on with his job hunting when the doorbell rang. He considered pretending not to be home, since most likely it was his landlady or the electric company, either way it meant people asking for money he didn’t have. In the end he walked to the door quietly and cautiously peeked out on the peephole. A slender black guy stood outside - around forty maybe - in shiny black pants and a bright purple shirt. Considering that and the loose yellow tie he wore, Dean was pretty sure the guy was not from the electric company. As he opened the door the guy turned towards him and grinned widely, his white teeth in stark contrast with his dark skin.
‘Yeah?’ Dean asked, eyeing the guy.
‘Dean Winchester,’ the man spoke, his voice was smooth like old whiskey, deep and smoky, pleasant to the ear. It was not a question, so he came obviously looking for him. His stance was relaxed, but confident and he was staring at Dean with dark eyes that felt like they bore right into his skull. He was being observed in detail and taken stock of, like the man wasn’t sure what to think of him yet.
‘That’s me,’ Dean answered still.
‘I know,’ drawled the man, his grin never faltering.
‘And you are?’ Dean asked next, crossing his arms and scowling down at him. The guy was shorter, 5’7 maybe 5’8.
‘Branan Simore,’ he answered. ‘You can call me Anan, Bran, Brany, Nansi, whichever you fancy best… I really don’t have a preference. Although I’ve been kinda fond of Nansi lately, but then folk went on callin’ me “Nancy”, which is just rude if you ask me, not that I have anything against the name “Nancy” or any fine lady who’s called Nancy, but it’s not exactly suitable for a gentleman like me. Anyway, you can call me Nansi or Mr. Nansi if you manage to say it right, you Midwestern boys sometimes get it wrong and I really rather not be called Nancy again.’
Southern; that was Dean’s first thought after hearing the man talk, Louisiana probably. Weird, that was his second thought. He blinked at the man after he fell silent and took a breath, trying to figure out what was going on.
‘Okay, and what do you want?’ he asked.
‘Well, I’m your new boss of course,’ Nansi replied.
‘You’re my what now?’ Dean asked.
‘You out of a job, right?’
‘How do you…’
‘So here I am, giving you a job… you ready to go?’
‘Hold on, wait a second, I don’t know who the hell are you. And how do you even know me? Or that I’m out of a job and… how did you know where I live?’
He had done weird jobs in the past, weird jobs for weird people, shady jobs for shady people, but this was strange even for him.
‘Easy there buster,’ laughed Nansi. ‘I’m a friend of good-ol’ Mr. Loge.’
‘Who?’
‘Gabriel Loge,’ he repeated slowly, his grin transforming into a wide pleasant smile. Dean stared at him for a moment and just blinked in surprise. Ah, so that was Gabriel’s surname, good to know.
‘Gabriel sent you?’ he asked.
‘Not so much “sent me”, but told me very pointedly that you needed a job and that I would like ya’, so you should work for me… you’re not annoying me for now, so far so good, we’ll see the rest. So ready to go?’
Dean blinked again, searching for words.
‘I don’t even know what the job is, I don’t even know if I want to work for you,’ he said finally.
‘That black beauty out front… that yours?’ Nansi asked. Dean frowned.
‘Yeah?’
‘It’d be a shame if you had to sell it, because of pesky money,’ he said.
‘I’m not selling my car,’ Dean replied with certainty. He’d rather give up his apartment and everything else he owned, but not the Impala.
‘Just sayin’,’ Nansi shrugged. ‘I don’t know if you got the luxury to say whether you wanna work or not.’
That was true enough, but Dean still didn’t want to say it.
‘You comin’?’ asked Nansi as he backed away from the door, obviously not waiting any longer.
‘Yeah alright,’ Dean answered and grabbed his jacket, keys, and his phone, then locked the door behind him. Not every day comes a job offer to your home. He would be dumb to decline before even knowing what the job was. Nansi was already walking down the corridor towards the street, so Dean jogged to catch up with him.
‘I can’t believe Gabriel went ahead and got me a job… he didn’t even leave that long ago.’
‘It’s your lucky day, kid,’ Nansi replied easily. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his sunglasses, putting them on before stepping out into the morning light. Dean couldn’t help but think that yeah, maybe it was.
Mr. Nansi had a music store, as it turned out. It was a small, homey little place, not the kind with high-tech music systems. There were CDs, but mostly old records and instruments of all kinds, some Dean had never even seen before. Sure he had seen guitars and drums and flutes and all the regular stuff, but there were also bells and all kinds of tribal looking things. The second he stepped into the store he was slammed in the face with colour. The walls were green and red and yellow, there were curtains and plants and vases in purple, brown and black, and the records and instruments and books around were even more colourful, gold, silver and slick brown or bright black, it was almost dazzling. The shop smelled like wood and grass and some sort of incense he couldn’t recognize. It looked like the sort of place eccentric college kids visited.
Dean was not gonna lie to himself he expected something a little more… illegal, when Nansi showed up. He hasn’t had an honest job in years, only one-time things that got him enough money to get by somehow. This was… a nice change, but had a too good to be true feeling to it so far.
The shop’s name was Spider’s Den - also called “The Den” by their regulars according to Nansi - and it even had a bright red spider with green tribal markings as a logo.
‘Since when do spiders live in a den?’ was the first thing Dean said when he looked at the sign.
‘Don’t be stupid, spiders live everywhere, no?’ answered Mr. Nansi. Dean didn’t argue.
Inside he was still just looking around, taking in the shop and everything he saw, while Mr. Nansi walked behind the counter and turned on some music, jazz, which was not really surprising. Not Dean’s kind of music, but it was still better than the trash that was called the “popular music” nowadays.
‘So… um… you need help with the shop?’
‘I need someone to run the shop,’ Nansi replied. Dean looked around.
‘I never worked in a music shop before,’ he admitted honestly.
‘You can learn… do you like music?’
‘Yeah, sure, not this sort of music though.’
‘What sort do you like then?’
‘Classics… I mean classic rock, Zep, AC/DC, Metallica, Blue Öyster Cult, that sort of thing.’
Mr. Nansi leaned on the counter and pointed towards the far end of the records stand. Dean walked over and looked around, his eyes immediately landing on familiar covers. Led Zeppelin, The Who, Pink Floyd, Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix and The Doors, just a few he saw at first glance.
‘Kind of an eccentric place, huh?’ he asked.
‘Unique,’ Nansi answered.
‘So, how come you’re not running the place, you’re the owner, right?’
‘Yes, but I need to travel a lot for… business, and I need someone to be here for my costumers.’
‘Yeah… right… I mean, I can do that… I mean, I have no idea what half of these are,’ he pointed at the instruments. ‘And… this is weird, you sure you want me talking with customers?’
‘Why not?’
Dean thought that was fairly obvious, with the way he looked and talked and handled people. Hell, Gabriel knew it all too well, it was one of the things they talked about last night while drinking. It was beyond him how the man could’ve recommended him after all that.
‘I’m not good with people,’ Dean said simply. Nansi should know what he’s getting, Dean’s not gonna take shit for something he cannot change.
‘Not a problem,’ Nansi smiled with a look Dean couldn’t understand, so he just stared back at him. There was pause where only the smooth sound of a saxophone was heard faintly from the speakers and Dean waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. Mr. Nansi pulled out a drawer and grabbed something and immediately threw it at Dean without warning. Dean caught it without problem. The object turned out to be a large keychain with keys in all size and shape, at least a dozen or more. Some were dark, rusty and big, some were shining silver with tiny engravings.
‘See you later then,’ Nansi said as he picked up a green suit jacket from a nearby coat-rack, and then got out from behind the counter.
‘Wha-wait… shouldn’t we like… talk about payment… or y’know… sign a contract first or something?’
Mr. Nansi smiled mysteriously and walked up to Dean and pulled out a piece of paper from his inner pocket, handing it over. Dean blinked in surprise then took it. It was a contract alright, a simple one at that, not the kind Dean was used to see, with all kinds of numbers and data and small print that screwed him over later.
‘What’s “the employer will provide a manner of compensation for all personal, corporeal and incorporeal difficulties”?
‘Insurance,’ Nansi replied.
‘Health insurance?’ Dean asked.
‘That too.’
Dean went over the sentence again. It was a weird way to phrase it, but surely more easily understood than the usual legal jargon Dean hated with passion. The payment was at the bottom, right above where he needed to sign it. He felt his eyebrows rise up.
‘That’s more than I expected,’ he admitted. He was pretty sure he shouldn’t have said it though.
‘Business runs well,’ Nansi said with a nonchalant tone. Dean looked up at him from the paper. A pen was held out for him. He looked at the other man’s smiling face for another moment. So this was a weird way to get a job, but he assumed this was how it went for those who were lucky enough to have connections. And weird or not, he really needed the money, so it’s not like he could afford to say no. He took the pen.
‘Don’t we need three copies of this?’ he asked as he turned to put the paper down to sign it.
‘Nah,’ shook Mr. Nansi his head. ‘If you need a copy, let me know, why bother until then?’
Which was true enough, why bother with extra legal nonsense after all. Nansi stepped closer and signed the paper with a huge, very glamorous looking signature then he pocketed the pen and the contract again. He turned towards Dean with a bright grin and held out his hand. Dean shook it.
‘Welcome,’ Nansi said simply. Dean nodded, not knowing what to say. He probably should’ve thanked the man for giving him this job so easily, he most definitely had to call Gabriel and thank him for recommending him.
After they shook hands Mr. Nansi stepped back and headed towards the door.
‘Have a nice first day then, kiddo,’ he said and he was gone. Dean looked around the music shop awkwardly, not knowing where to start or what to do. He should explore, he decided. He needed to know what is what and where and all that. Jazz was still coming from the speakers so Dean decided that first he needed to find how to switch the music playing in the shop.
<<
|| Next Chapter >>>
>>> Link to art post <<<
Author: scyllaya
Artist: lynndyre
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Gabriel/Dean, OCs
Warning(s): graphic sexual content, mentions of past major character deaths, depressed!Dean, some H/C, umm… spiders?
Spoiler(s): none, AU
Word Count: ~ 26 400
Summary: Dean’s life does not look good at all, and that’s putting it mildly. He’s lost everything that he ever cared for. He’s tired of his life, frankly, he’s tired of everything, but things are about to change beyond his imagination. He needs to learn that the world is not the place he believed it to be, and that there is still more to life for him than just guilt and misery. It all starts with an unexpected one-night stand, and a new job at a strange music shop, with an even stranger owner.
Beta: uliamos
Chapter Two
Dean blinked open his eyes and recognized his bedroom ceiling and the smell and feel of his own bed after a few moments. After that came the feel of the state of his body. He was aching… everywhere. His thighs were tired, his muscles sore, his whole back hurt and his backside even more so, his skin felt tender and bruised on many places, his mouth especially. But all of that aside he felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. He was well rested too, which was weird considering last night. He definitely slept more than the handful of hours he managed most of the time. And holy shit, who gave a damn about sore muscles and bruises, when he had the best sex of his life. Some parts of the night felt like they were plucked straight out of his wet dreams or regular jerk-off fantasies. And to make it all better, he didn’t even feel hungover, so that was great too. He did feel lazy though, not wanting to get out of bed just yet, and it’s not like he had a job to worry about, so he didn’t have a reason to get up.
He rolled over in his bed and stretched languidly, feeling his muscles stretch (and ache), his bones pop satisfyingly. His brain finally realized that he was alone in bed, which was not unusual, but he did not go to bed alone last night. Well, Gabriel obviously had seen himself out. Dean was not a big fan of morning-afters, so this was for the best, but... well, he could admit that it was not just sex, but phenomenal sex, and phenomenal sex was something he liked to have more than once. He should’ve asked for a phone-number, maybe Gabriel would’ve been willing to hook up again sometime. Oh well, nothing to do.
Despite feeling lazy Dean got up from bed and hit the shower to get on with his day. He didn’t have a job, but he did need one, and he’s not gonna find one without looking for it, and fast. He was way late with rent and he barely had enough cash to pay for gas, he loved his baby, but she was a monster when it came to consumption. The hot shower did wonders to his sore muscles and he felt fresh and alive when he stepped out of the bathroom. He put on some clean clothes he found and headed to the kitchen for some breakfast. He didn’t buy coffee for a while now (he had to cut his costs), but luckily he did feel enough energy to move forward today without one. Seriously, he really needed last night, a great top to fuck him stupid, he couldn’t really remember when the last time that happened was. If he thought about it, it was one of his best birthdays in a very long time. It was sure an awesome way to start his thirties. Hell, he was feeling friggin’ optimistic today, and that usually didn’t happen at all.
He drank a glass of water then turned to the fridge to see if there was anything edible in it, and he stopped short when he noticed the unfamiliar green note on the fridge-door. He plucked the note down and had the urge to smile. He didn’t, but the urge was there and that was a novelty on its own.
Catch you later, big boy
206-697-7666
~ GL
Dean was about to put on his jacket and get on with his job hunting when the doorbell rang. He considered pretending not to be home, since most likely it was his landlady or the electric company, either way it meant people asking for money he didn’t have. In the end he walked to the door quietly and cautiously peeked out on the peephole. A slender black guy stood outside - around forty maybe - in shiny black pants and a bright purple shirt. Considering that and the loose yellow tie he wore, Dean was pretty sure the guy was not from the electric company. As he opened the door the guy turned towards him and grinned widely, his white teeth in stark contrast with his dark skin.
‘Yeah?’ Dean asked, eyeing the guy.
‘Dean Winchester,’ the man spoke, his voice was smooth like old whiskey, deep and smoky, pleasant to the ear. It was not a question, so he came obviously looking for him. His stance was relaxed, but confident and he was staring at Dean with dark eyes that felt like they bore right into his skull. He was being observed in detail and taken stock of, like the man wasn’t sure what to think of him yet.
‘That’s me,’ Dean answered still.
‘I know,’ drawled the man, his grin never faltering.
‘And you are?’ Dean asked next, crossing his arms and scowling down at him. The guy was shorter, 5’7 maybe 5’8.
‘Branan Simore,’ he answered. ‘You can call me Anan, Bran, Brany, Nansi, whichever you fancy best… I really don’t have a preference. Although I’ve been kinda fond of Nansi lately, but then folk went on callin’ me “Nancy”, which is just rude if you ask me, not that I have anything against the name “Nancy” or any fine lady who’s called Nancy, but it’s not exactly suitable for a gentleman like me. Anyway, you can call me Nansi or Mr. Nansi if you manage to say it right, you Midwestern boys sometimes get it wrong and I really rather not be called Nancy again.’
Southern; that was Dean’s first thought after hearing the man talk, Louisiana probably. Weird, that was his second thought. He blinked at the man after he fell silent and took a breath, trying to figure out what was going on.
‘Okay, and what do you want?’ he asked.
‘Well, I’m your new boss of course,’ Nansi replied.
‘You’re my what now?’ Dean asked.
‘You out of a job, right?’
‘How do you…’
‘So here I am, giving you a job… you ready to go?’
‘Hold on, wait a second, I don’t know who the hell are you. And how do you even know me? Or that I’m out of a job and… how did you know where I live?’
He had done weird jobs in the past, weird jobs for weird people, shady jobs for shady people, but this was strange even for him.
‘Easy there buster,’ laughed Nansi. ‘I’m a friend of good-ol’ Mr. Loge.’
‘Who?’
‘Gabriel Loge,’ he repeated slowly, his grin transforming into a wide pleasant smile. Dean stared at him for a moment and just blinked in surprise. Ah, so that was Gabriel’s surname, good to know.
‘Gabriel sent you?’ he asked.
‘Not so much “sent me”, but told me very pointedly that you needed a job and that I would like ya’, so you should work for me… you’re not annoying me for now, so far so good, we’ll see the rest. So ready to go?’
Dean blinked again, searching for words.
‘I don’t even know what the job is, I don’t even know if I want to work for you,’ he said finally.
‘That black beauty out front… that yours?’ Nansi asked. Dean frowned.
‘Yeah?’
‘It’d be a shame if you had to sell it, because of pesky money,’ he said.
‘I’m not selling my car,’ Dean replied with certainty. He’d rather give up his apartment and everything else he owned, but not the Impala.
‘Just sayin’,’ Nansi shrugged. ‘I don’t know if you got the luxury to say whether you wanna work or not.’
That was true enough, but Dean still didn’t want to say it.
‘You comin’?’ asked Nansi as he backed away from the door, obviously not waiting any longer.
‘Yeah alright,’ Dean answered and grabbed his jacket, keys, and his phone, then locked the door behind him. Not every day comes a job offer to your home. He would be dumb to decline before even knowing what the job was. Nansi was already walking down the corridor towards the street, so Dean jogged to catch up with him.
‘I can’t believe Gabriel went ahead and got me a job… he didn’t even leave that long ago.’
‘It’s your lucky day, kid,’ Nansi replied easily. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his sunglasses, putting them on before stepping out into the morning light. Dean couldn’t help but think that yeah, maybe it was.
Mr. Nansi had a music store, as it turned out. It was a small, homey little place, not the kind with high-tech music systems. There were CDs, but mostly old records and instruments of all kinds, some Dean had never even seen before. Sure he had seen guitars and drums and flutes and all the regular stuff, but there were also bells and all kinds of tribal looking things. The second he stepped into the store he was slammed in the face with colour. The walls were green and red and yellow, there were curtains and plants and vases in purple, brown and black, and the records and instruments and books around were even more colourful, gold, silver and slick brown or bright black, it was almost dazzling. The shop smelled like wood and grass and some sort of incense he couldn’t recognize. It looked like the sort of place eccentric college kids visited.
Dean was not gonna lie to himself he expected something a little more… illegal, when Nansi showed up. He hasn’t had an honest job in years, only one-time things that got him enough money to get by somehow. This was… a nice change, but had a too good to be true feeling to it so far.
The shop’s name was Spider’s Den - also called “The Den” by their regulars according to Nansi - and it even had a bright red spider with green tribal markings as a logo.
‘Since when do spiders live in a den?’ was the first thing Dean said when he looked at the sign.
‘Don’t be stupid, spiders live everywhere, no?’ answered Mr. Nansi. Dean didn’t argue.
Inside he was still just looking around, taking in the shop and everything he saw, while Mr. Nansi walked behind the counter and turned on some music, jazz, which was not really surprising. Not Dean’s kind of music, but it was still better than the trash that was called the “popular music” nowadays.
‘So… um… you need help with the shop?’
‘I need someone to run the shop,’ Nansi replied. Dean looked around.
‘I never worked in a music shop before,’ he admitted honestly.
‘You can learn… do you like music?’
‘Yeah, sure, not this sort of music though.’
‘What sort do you like then?’
‘Classics… I mean classic rock, Zep, AC/DC, Metallica, Blue Öyster Cult, that sort of thing.’
Mr. Nansi leaned on the counter and pointed towards the far end of the records stand. Dean walked over and looked around, his eyes immediately landing on familiar covers. Led Zeppelin, The Who, Pink Floyd, Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix and The Doors, just a few he saw at first glance.
‘Kind of an eccentric place, huh?’ he asked.
‘Unique,’ Nansi answered.
‘So, how come you’re not running the place, you’re the owner, right?’
‘Yes, but I need to travel a lot for… business, and I need someone to be here for my costumers.’
‘Yeah… right… I mean, I can do that… I mean, I have no idea what half of these are,’ he pointed at the instruments. ‘And… this is weird, you sure you want me talking with customers?’
‘Why not?’
Dean thought that was fairly obvious, with the way he looked and talked and handled people. Hell, Gabriel knew it all too well, it was one of the things they talked about last night while drinking. It was beyond him how the man could’ve recommended him after all that.
‘I’m not good with people,’ Dean said simply. Nansi should know what he’s getting, Dean’s not gonna take shit for something he cannot change.
‘Not a problem,’ Nansi smiled with a look Dean couldn’t understand, so he just stared back at him. There was pause where only the smooth sound of a saxophone was heard faintly from the speakers and Dean waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. Mr. Nansi pulled out a drawer and grabbed something and immediately threw it at Dean without warning. Dean caught it without problem. The object turned out to be a large keychain with keys in all size and shape, at least a dozen or more. Some were dark, rusty and big, some were shining silver with tiny engravings.
‘See you later then,’ Nansi said as he picked up a green suit jacket from a nearby coat-rack, and then got out from behind the counter.
‘Wha-wait… shouldn’t we like… talk about payment… or y’know… sign a contract first or something?’
Mr. Nansi smiled mysteriously and walked up to Dean and pulled out a piece of paper from his inner pocket, handing it over. Dean blinked in surprise then took it. It was a contract alright, a simple one at that, not the kind Dean was used to see, with all kinds of numbers and data and small print that screwed him over later.
‘What’s “the employer will provide a manner of compensation for all personal, corporeal and incorporeal difficulties”?
‘Insurance,’ Nansi replied.
‘Health insurance?’ Dean asked.
‘That too.’
Dean went over the sentence again. It was a weird way to phrase it, but surely more easily understood than the usual legal jargon Dean hated with passion. The payment was at the bottom, right above where he needed to sign it. He felt his eyebrows rise up.
‘That’s more than I expected,’ he admitted. He was pretty sure he shouldn’t have said it though.
‘Business runs well,’ Nansi said with a nonchalant tone. Dean looked up at him from the paper. A pen was held out for him. He looked at the other man’s smiling face for another moment. So this was a weird way to get a job, but he assumed this was how it went for those who were lucky enough to have connections. And weird or not, he really needed the money, so it’s not like he could afford to say no. He took the pen.
‘Don’t we need three copies of this?’ he asked as he turned to put the paper down to sign it.
‘Nah,’ shook Mr. Nansi his head. ‘If you need a copy, let me know, why bother until then?’
Which was true enough, why bother with extra legal nonsense after all. Nansi stepped closer and signed the paper with a huge, very glamorous looking signature then he pocketed the pen and the contract again. He turned towards Dean with a bright grin and held out his hand. Dean shook it.
‘Welcome,’ Nansi said simply. Dean nodded, not knowing what to say. He probably should’ve thanked the man for giving him this job so easily, he most definitely had to call Gabriel and thank him for recommending him.
After they shook hands Mr. Nansi stepped back and headed towards the door.
‘Have a nice first day then, kiddo,’ he said and he was gone. Dean looked around the music shop awkwardly, not knowing where to start or what to do. He should explore, he decided. He needed to know what is what and where and all that. Jazz was still coming from the speakers so Dean decided that first he needed to find how to switch the music playing in the shop.
<<
|| Next Chapter >>>
>>> Link to art post <<<