kitkat24210
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Short story I wrote a while back that I recently edited.
Smith and Brendan are my favorite characters to put together, because they're such opposites. Smith's a bit OCD, and can blow things a bit out of proportion (think Ari Gold from "Entourage"), and Brendan's...well...insane, to put it simply.
Happy reading, and don't forget to critique!
Smith and Brendan are my favorite characters to put together, because they're such opposites. Smith's a bit OCD, and can blow things a bit out of proportion (think Ari Gold from "Entourage"), and Brendan's...well...insane, to put it simply.
Happy reading, and don't forget to critique!
A Styrofoam cup of coffee, the man's second one of the night, was set down on the table. The twenty-one year old grumbled to himself as he opened his small black laptop, and drummed his thin fingers on his baggy pair of blue jeans, as he waited for the machine to reboot. A pair of jet-black headphones was slipped on over dirty blonde hair, and he smirked slightly as a loose lock of hair fell into his brown eyes. The most noticeable part of his appearance however, not counting his hot pink Converses under the table, was his lime green shirt. The faded white text on it read simply "OMFG", but it was his favorite shirt, from one of his favorite stores, and was immediately noticeable upon inspection of him.
What many people didn't know was that he, Smith Diamond, was no ordinary, working-class man. He had been a vampire for around three years now, and wasn't in the cafe just to drink his precious coffee, or to do paperwork. As if. That was all the stuff the Department of Paranormal Research took care of, and God forbid that the Underground rob them of their precious paperwork. No, Smith was here to negotiate.
Another young man his age slid into the seat across from him. This one was slightly shorter than him, with spiked hair that looked as if it he had cut it himself, with a pair of safety scissors. It was also a blindingly bright shade of blue.
"Smith." The newcomer smiled at him, setting his own coffee cup on the table, as he brushed some dirt off of his light grey hoodie.
"Brendan." Smith nodded in recognition, noting the spiked collar strapped around the man's neck. It was there to signal that hewas a werewolf, but only a select few understood the code. The other twenty-something, Brendan Freese, yawned, pulling over another chair to rest his feet.
"I’m fine, and you?" He grinned at his not-quite-friend.
"Slightly worse, since you decided to show up.” Came the snappy retort.
The other man whistled, still maintaining a smile that showed his too-sharp teeth. “Really? Sorry ‘bout that, then.”
“Eh, what can you do.” Smith’s voice abruptly grew cautious, as he stopped to fully examine the werewolf. The higher-ups had warned him that Freese was…not quite “all there”, if you caught there drift, and it was beginning to show through his jerky, twitching movements that could initially be passed off as a side effect of the caffeine.
“You’re spacing out on me, Smith.” Brendan smiled blankly. “Thirsty?” He hissed, eyes suddenly narrowing. “Because if you want to go out for a real drink, I’ve got my job to attend to.”
“You have a job?” He was genuinely taken by surprise on that one. “Who would hire you?”
”You know that old hotel on the edge of town? The Babylon?” The man, who Smith was beginning to suspect, should really have been locked in a nice white cell a few years back, didn’t even pause to let him slip an answer in. “It’s my job to make sure the boiler doesn’t explode, and the entire building doesn’t go up in flames. I leave myself notes everywhere reminding myself to check the boiler. Because,” His smile grew lopsided, his eyes unfocused, “I forget things. But I’m sure they’ve told you that.”
“Th-they…” The vampire had found himself at a loss for words, and could only watch as Brendan got up to leave, noticing for the first time that the man’s jeans were a ragged mess of many colors, and that he wore no shoes.
“Well, good day to you, sir,” He bowed to Smith, who couldn’t tell if it was in jest or not, then looked him straight in the eye. “I’ll be back later, mayhaps, but for now, I have my violin to practice.”
Smith barely managed to stutter out his farewell before Brendan was off, grinning as he raced down the sidewalk to only a madman knows where.
What many people didn't know was that he, Smith Diamond, was no ordinary, working-class man. He had been a vampire for around three years now, and wasn't in the cafe just to drink his precious coffee, or to do paperwork. As if. That was all the stuff the Department of Paranormal Research took care of, and God forbid that the Underground rob them of their precious paperwork. No, Smith was here to negotiate.
Another young man his age slid into the seat across from him. This one was slightly shorter than him, with spiked hair that looked as if it he had cut it himself, with a pair of safety scissors. It was also a blindingly bright shade of blue.
"Smith." The newcomer smiled at him, setting his own coffee cup on the table, as he brushed some dirt off of his light grey hoodie.
"Brendan." Smith nodded in recognition, noting the spiked collar strapped around the man's neck. It was there to signal that hewas a werewolf, but only a select few understood the code. The other twenty-something, Brendan Freese, yawned, pulling over another chair to rest his feet.
"I’m fine, and you?" He grinned at his not-quite-friend.
"Slightly worse, since you decided to show up.” Came the snappy retort.
The other man whistled, still maintaining a smile that showed his too-sharp teeth. “Really? Sorry ‘bout that, then.”
“Eh, what can you do.” Smith’s voice abruptly grew cautious, as he stopped to fully examine the werewolf. The higher-ups had warned him that Freese was…not quite “all there”, if you caught there drift, and it was beginning to show through his jerky, twitching movements that could initially be passed off as a side effect of the caffeine.
“You’re spacing out on me, Smith.” Brendan smiled blankly. “Thirsty?” He hissed, eyes suddenly narrowing. “Because if you want to go out for a real drink, I’ve got my job to attend to.”
“You have a job?” He was genuinely taken by surprise on that one. “Who would hire you?”
”You know that old hotel on the edge of town? The Babylon?” The man, who Smith was beginning to suspect, should really have been locked in a nice white cell a few years back, didn’t even pause to let him slip an answer in. “It’s my job to make sure the boiler doesn’t explode, and the entire building doesn’t go up in flames. I leave myself notes everywhere reminding myself to check the boiler. Because,” His smile grew lopsided, his eyes unfocused, “I forget things. But I’m sure they’ve told you that.”
“Th-they…” The vampire had found himself at a loss for words, and could only watch as Brendan got up to leave, noticing for the first time that the man’s jeans were a ragged mess of many colors, and that he wore no shoes.
“Well, good day to you, sir,” He bowed to Smith, who couldn’t tell if it was in jest or not, then looked him straight in the eye. “I’ll be back later, mayhaps, but for now, I have my violin to practice.”
Smith barely managed to stutter out his farewell before Brendan was off, grinning as he raced down the sidewalk to only a madman knows where.
