The beginning of the actual story, hopefully you have a general understanding of the character's personality. I apologize if there is something that will offend somebody, as a pre warning.
It's an expression coming out of a simple can of paint.
Look, it's the easiest way for the average kid to paint things using himself as the meaning of it.
Your gonna get into that gallery real soon, man.
Why? I'm not gonna be famous one day
Why do you always say that?
'cause it's true
"H-hello-o?" I spit out. There was a silent pause on the other line. 'I'm starting to think that I've just been prank called.' I thought to myself.
"Is this… Fly?" The voice confusingly said. I know who this is. It was the commissioner for that car show. Blinking and slowly sitting up on the floor," Fly Van Howler, yes?" I cautiously spoke. I'm not a coward or scared I am mildly paranoid, yes that's it. You wouldn't go out much either if you had fumes gassing your brain cells.
"Right, I want to know how the truck is coming along. No problems I assume?" I twitched, 'You're gay' I snickered to myself," None." I replied back to him. I heard some noise in the back before he replied," When do you think it should be finished? It has to be done within two days." He sounds nervous, " I assure you sir that it will be done by then." I responded hearing a sigh of relief on the other line," Good. You had me worried for a moment."
"Yes, well don't be." I tried to make it sound friendly knowing how some people might reply badly. "Right I've seen you work, are you working on it now?" He questioned.
I sprayed the brush in return," I am."
"Alright well get back to work." He joked with me, " I will." I snapped my flip phone shut and sat it next to my stool onto a cart table. My eyes shifted to the front door, which compared to the other doors, is doggy size. I heard a car approach then a door slam shut. My old Beagle dog ran out of a tipped over crate towards the door howling like a blizzard.
The door squeaked open when a younger man walked in looking somewhat nervous. My Beagle Diesel howled at the kid, startling him more. "Good doggy! Here have some jerky." He pulled a small piece of Jacklink from his pant's pocket. Why he had jerky in his pocket, I don't want to know.
Diesel quieted down to little barks but refused to take the offering.
I stood up and walked towards the teen," Diesel is a little dog with a big bark, you alright kid?" I took off my apron. The old hound stumbled back into the crate he first came from.
"Yeah I'm fine, why would I not be? Yeah I'm okay!" He frantically spoke.
There was an awkward silence that covered the whole building that I call home. Blinking a few times," So, you are…?" I wondered. Too bad he was to busy staring at all the cars in my shop. Only two are mine and they are outside behind the shop, the rest are definitely nowhere near my price range.
"…These are yours?" He gawked at all the cars.
I shifted my weight onto my left leg," Hell no. I just own the shop, not the cars. Those are commissioned vehicles; some of them have been here for a year. I only airbrush them, I don't know anything about the anatomy of a car. Hell, I still get my oil changed from a mechanic." I stated watching him finally turn his eyes towards me.
"Right anyway, you do paintjobs?" He looked at me with his hands in his pockets. I stared at him as if he just said, "Did you know the grass is actually green?" Well if the front door labeled "Body shop" didn't give it away then you would think all the shiny cars and not to mention the semi right behind me with a goddamn prison painting on it would give it away.
"Yeah that is what the front door says." I switched my weight again to the right side. He nervously laughed," Oh it does doesn't it?" He quickly looked back at the door then back to look at me with an embarrassed smile.
I stared at him growing tired of his presence. Naturally I'm not this mean, I just don't have a lot of time to waste on a kid who walks in here to stare at cars. There is a truck that needs to be at a show in two days.
"I'm sorry but what do you want? I have a truck that needs to be in a show in two days."
" Oh right, really busy huh? Yes well I have a car that I had bought that needs a new paint job." He looked at me," How long would that take?"
"It would take awhile. I would begin in two days after the owner to this truck picks it up. If you look around, there isn't much space left until I get this truck out of here. The price varies on what I am doing. This truck is a full graphic canvas and has taken almost a year to do alone. A lot of paint and brushes, it would be pricy." His expression was priceless.
His eyes widen," How much is pricy? I just spent all my money on the car itself…"
"Depends, what is the complexity of the car?"
"The what?"
Sighing," What are the colors of the car?"
"Oh, it's a yellow Camaro you know, black stripes…" I might understand more if I could understand his hand signals while explaining a simple thing such as his car.
"I need to look at it. I'm guessing you drove it here?"
"Course I did!" There goes the hand signs again.
Putting my hands in my hoodie pockets, I followed him outside. I'm not that into cars despite my career, but it was a nice car. Granted, the paint job sucked but a nice car altogether. However, I have seen a lot of Camaros in my life span before, this one just adds to the list of them.
I walked around the car, crouching down here and there to examine the current paint. Taking my finger and pinching some of the rust off and brought it to my face.
"Yeah, the paint job sucks." I spoke bluntly while scrapping off the rust on my thumb and pointer finger. The car trembled but I took nothing of it. Already experiencing mental issues, this doesn't surprise me anymore then the last several occasions.
"Have you washed it lately?" I said turning to look at him.
"…No?" He said scratching his neck in embarrassment.
" If I were to repaint it, I ask that you wash it first then bring it back. Price can be anywhere between 1000$ to 2000$ depending on what kind of paint and who does it. The colors may not be difficult, but the amount of rust on the car will be difficult to remove. The rust can interfere with the paint if simply painted over. I could remove most of the rust, but for a cheaper price, I would have somebody who can specialize in that sort of maintenance fix it. If you fix that, I will lower the price drastically to 300$." I said.
"So if I can take care of the rust, you would lower the price?"
"That is what I said yes." I said once again leaning on my left leg.
"Alright, I think I know somebody who can do that." He said leaning onto his car.
Blinking a few times," The car would remain with me for however long it takes."
He didn't reply for a while which is understandable, he is a teen boy. They want their car to show off, it tends to be what most of them do once they get that Transam or Mustang GT they have been saving up for.
"If I can get the rust removed and you do lower the price I guess it doesn't matter how long it takes…" He trailed off still uncertain on the time he would be without his car.
"Alrighty then. Once you fix some of the rust bring it back and I'll see about the space."
…..
Statement at the top is also apart of the song Spraypaint and Ink Pens. Probably spoken by Mike Shinoda of Linkin Park.
Another short chapter. I have a lot of people adding the story to their story alerts which is great. It would be nice to have some reviews, but story alerts are great too. Hopefully as the story continues, I will make them longer.
Spraypaint and Ink Pens is by Mike Shinoda of Linkin Park and Lupe Fiasco etc.