Fate was a funny thing. It could save your ass or fuck you up royally. But in this scenario, Dave wasn't sure which one it did.
Letting his eyes slowly flutter open, he awoke to the sound of someone pounding against the door. With a groggily stumble in his step, Dave found himself getting up from the couch. Clad in boxers and a wrinkled button shirt, it took him a moment to grab for his shades, slipping them on to cover the small bags under his eyes.
It wasn't that he was overworked, not in the least. Dave was in just the position he wanted.. sorta. It was true that he worked at a place for music, which he wanted earlier than he could walk. It was even a night job. But as his turntables began to seem a bit abandoned in a dark corner of his apartment, he couldn't help but secretly hope eventually they will be put to better use.
He turned his attention to the loud knocking, that hadn't stopped since he woke, and quickly slipped on a pair of shorts. As he approached the door, he took the time to remember that someone was coming to share his apartment for a while. Shit. He looked back at the discarded pizza boxes scattered over the kitchen table and x-box games all over the floor. Oh well.
His attention then returned to the frantic knocking. He honestly had no clue who this person was, but hell, he needed a bit of extra cash.
Not bothering to check who was there, he pulled the door open and was met with another surprise.
Standing there in his awkward glory, was John. He looked up and grinned. "Hey there."
"And thenwhat happened?" A calm voice asked. "..." "If you don't tell me Dave then I can't help you."
It was a day prior to Dave's encounter with John, and Dave found himself in the welcoming atmosphere of a small coffee shop. Even he would admit the place was nice. If a bit too cutesy as shit for his tastes. Luckily, it was early, and the coffee pots were just firing up for the customers to come. The sun was only so steadily rising behind the stained glass windows.
But it wasn't the dainty drinks or soups that brought Dave here, instead the female that ran the place. Dave shifted ever so slightly in his seat, not even having bothered with taking his coat off he shoved his hands into the over-sized pockets, finding comfort in their warmth. Just recalling all the shit that's happened made him feel like a punk ass preschooler hyped with poprocks. Though obviously, his face showed indifference, something that rarely changed. Shit was better that way.
On the other side on the padded booth, a blonde haired female tapped her carefully manicured fingers against the table. A small sigh escaped her lips as she watched Dave in silence. "Dave, if you don't want to discuss- "I do." She eyed him wearily.
"This isn't funny Dave." "I'm not trying to be Rose." She paused.
"Give me a moment please." She slid away from the booth, disappearing behind a door. As the door flipped closed behind her, you could easily read the bulky font, 'No Customers Allowed'.
It didn't even take her a minute to emerge once more, a small mug careful hands. She returned to her seat across Dave, and her pink lips grew into a small smile. She slid the mug across the table to him.
Dave could smell the scent of hot chocolate from anywhere. And the mug was no exception. Even he couldn't help the slightest twitch of a smile as he pressed his lips to the smooth edge, letting the milky flavor glide past his lips. He gently put the mug back down, meeting Rose' amused gaze.
"Now talk."