New Boy
Irvine jumped off of the stairs, lugging his two duffel bags, and stepped away from the platform, trying to avoid bumping into the many people, most in business suits, that were trying to board the train. As he walked into the stone building that was the train station, he looked down at his duffel bags. They contained the last of his clothing and supplies, the last load that he was bringing to his apartment. He knew that, even though he was living in a college town- two or three small colleges made their homes in this little town, he would never be a college grad himself. He barley made it through highschool.
Not that he wasn't smart. That wasn't the problem. He had good SAT scores- a 1250 last time he took them. He was better at verbal than math, but not by a lot. It was just that Irvine didn't come from a good background. Orphaned as a kid, raised in the south by a father who drunk and a mother who nagged. Both of them constantly. And now he'd gotten a job working as a mechanic at a car repair shop. In New Jersey. It should be good work, he thought, and this place is really close to New York. He looked back at the train. He knew it would take him there if he needed to.
Irvine got out his map of the town, found the apartment building, and trudged up the hill towards it. The sidewalk was clean, grass well trimmed, and what people he saw seemed friendly. The houses were painted in conservative colors and so were the cars. It didn't seem like a town where anything happened.
He couldn't quite remember his way around. Once he got to his apartment, which rested in a reddish stone building that looked like it had been built 160 years ago for its sagging condition, he took his key out of his khaki "army style" jacket and fumbled with the lock until it clicked open. He had eaten breakfast at his hotel, so he could go down to the 'shop once he had locked his bags in his room. That task took about five seconds. He went back out of the building and eventually found the car repair shop.
It was behind an Exxon station four blocks from his apartment. Though all of the doors and windows were shut and blacked out to prevent visibility, faint music could be heard several feet away. Irvine guessed that it was really loud in there. He could even tell the song- Green Day's KING FOR A DAY. One of his favorites.
He gently pushed open the door, wondering what it was like inside.
The Owner
Seifer adjusted the mirror as he sat in his custom- built Hyper 1-0-9, silver with black and red flames, gills, with a Wrangler-style body build. It looked like a convertible, with the canvas roof, but there really wasn't a roof at all. It was just open. He was planning on, once they finished college, taking his boyfriend and everything he wanted to keep and driving out to California. This car was made for that trip.
He knew the whole route, too. He'd planned it out. Drive south to Miami in the summer, and hang in the clubs for a while. Go through Texas and never stop anywhere for too long. The two of them wouldn't be welcome- liberal, democratic, atheistic, oh yeah, and gay. So they wouldn't stay anywhere more than one night. Then they'd make their way up to SoCal. There was more of a car market there. New Yorkers didn't need cars. They had the fucking metro.
Seifer hadn't always lived in this little town. He'd grown up in London. He still had the accent. And the attitude. When he was 17, his father had gotten a job transfer. He'd come here, to this pathetic little town. Started highschool. And that's when he met Zell. It had been four years ago, but he could still remember the exact moment. He'd driven into the student parking lot, gotten out of his car, and slung his bookbag over his shoulder. He'd heard a shout and looked up.
A guy, who looked like an older classman, was being threatened by a younger, and shorter, blonde boy, and hiding behind him was a still younger student. Seifer walked closer and he could decipher the conversation. The eldest student was blubbering an apology to the blonde, and the youngest student looked quiet upset, but all Seifer could see was the muscular boy in the middle, clenching his fists and glaring at the bully.
"Gurney, you're gonna leave Skrit alone from here on in. Right?"
"Yes Dincht." The older boy looked defeated.
"What seems to be the problem here?" Seifer's accent caught all of them off guard, who turned to look at him. Seifer blinked, as the blue eyes of the muscular blonde drew him closer.
"Uh well uh I was just having a conversation with little Skrit over there and this guy, Zell, came over and started threatening me and uh..." The older boy, probably Gurney judging from the conversation that he heard, shrugged and looked nervous.
"He was beating Skrit up." Zell shrugged, and unclenched his fists. "I had to do something. Hey wait, you're new here, aren't you?"
"What tipped you off, the accent or that you hadn't seen me gracing your hallways?" Seifer smirked. Taking his opportunity, Gurney ran off in one direction, and Skrit in the other.
"Both, and that nobody else bothers to intercept when Gurney beats someone." Zell crossed his arms and leaned back against the brick wall. "So... what're you doing after school?"
"It depends." Seifer narrowed his eyes seductivley.
"On what?" Zell picked up on the older boy's cues.
"On what you're doing."
"Well in that case I'm showing you around town."
"Sounds brilliant."
Seifer sighed. He loved to reminisce that scene. The showing around town had consisted of going to the college campus and hanging out. They did that for a year, every day, until Seifer more formally asked Zell out. Things had been... the way they are since.
The Mechanic
Zell pushed back with his feet, rolling out from underneath the beat-up Ford Explorer that he was working with.
"Hey Raj, I didn't know I was gonna need to do axel work. Can you get this guy higher up for me?"
"Sure thing, ya know?" Rajin, the assistant mechanic, operated the lift, rising the car a few feet higher than it had been.
"Thanks man!" Zell grabbed his tools and went to work, tightening cables and removing grit as he worked. He had three loves in his life, no four- Seifer, music, martial arts, and cars. The latter three not nessicarily in that order. Those three had always been his passions, until his 10th grade year when a certain senior... well, changed everything. Now they echoed the same years in the local college- Zell in the Sophmore year, and Seifer a senior.
Zell almost dropped the unwieldy tool he was working with when the door opened. A shaft of brilliant afternoon light flooded into the dim office and made its way into the main work garage.
"Hello?" A thick southern voice drawled. Zell pushed up his safety glasses and jogged into the main office to meet this newcomer. He signed Rajin to turn down the music so that he could talk to the guy.
In the door stood a guy, about 6'1, redhead. His hair was long for a guy. He wore a khaki army jacket, jeans, and really big army boots, and a nervous smile.
"Hey wait, you're not Fujin's newest recruit, are ya?" Fujin was their scout, who dealt with the hiring agencies and unions.
"I'm not sure, but somebody hired me here. I'm Irvine Kineas." He grinned broadly and extended a hand. Zell pulled off his grimy right glove and shook Irvine's.
"I'm Zell Dincht, head mechanic. Over there's Rajin, the assistant. I can't remember what Seifer, he's the boss, was going to do with you but I'm sure we can find out." Zell walked towards the showroom, opened the door. "Hey Seif, new guy's here."
Zell propped the door open with a hand and leaned jauntilly on it. He watched Seifer turn around partially, register Zell, and then jump out of the car. Seifer jogged up, and Zell moved aside so that both could look at the new employee. Irvine did a mock salute.
Seifer stood and sized up Irvine. "You'll work out okay."
Irvine jumped off of the stairs, lugging his two duffel bags, and stepped away from the platform, trying to avoid bumping into the many people, most in business suits, that were trying to board the train. As he walked into the stone building that was the train station, he looked down at his duffel bags. They contained the last of his clothing and supplies, the last load that he was bringing to his apartment. He knew that, even though he was living in a college town- two or three small colleges made their homes in this little town, he would never be a college grad himself. He barley made it through highschool.
Not that he wasn't smart. That wasn't the problem. He had good SAT scores- a 1250 last time he took them. He was better at verbal than math, but not by a lot. It was just that Irvine didn't come from a good background. Orphaned as a kid, raised in the south by a father who drunk and a mother who nagged. Both of them constantly. And now he'd gotten a job working as a mechanic at a car repair shop. In New Jersey. It should be good work, he thought, and this place is really close to New York. He looked back at the train. He knew it would take him there if he needed to.
Irvine got out his map of the town, found the apartment building, and trudged up the hill towards it. The sidewalk was clean, grass well trimmed, and what people he saw seemed friendly. The houses were painted in conservative colors and so were the cars. It didn't seem like a town where anything happened.
He couldn't quite remember his way around. Once he got to his apartment, which rested in a reddish stone building that looked like it had been built 160 years ago for its sagging condition, he took his key out of his khaki "army style" jacket and fumbled with the lock until it clicked open. He had eaten breakfast at his hotel, so he could go down to the 'shop once he had locked his bags in his room. That task took about five seconds. He went back out of the building and eventually found the car repair shop.
It was behind an Exxon station four blocks from his apartment. Though all of the doors and windows were shut and blacked out to prevent visibility, faint music could be heard several feet away. Irvine guessed that it was really loud in there. He could even tell the song- Green Day's KING FOR A DAY. One of his favorites.
He gently pushed open the door, wondering what it was like inside.
The Owner
Seifer adjusted the mirror as he sat in his custom- built Hyper 1-0-9, silver with black and red flames, gills, with a Wrangler-style body build. It looked like a convertible, with the canvas roof, but there really wasn't a roof at all. It was just open. He was planning on, once they finished college, taking his boyfriend and everything he wanted to keep and driving out to California. This car was made for that trip.
He knew the whole route, too. He'd planned it out. Drive south to Miami in the summer, and hang in the clubs for a while. Go through Texas and never stop anywhere for too long. The two of them wouldn't be welcome- liberal, democratic, atheistic, oh yeah, and gay. So they wouldn't stay anywhere more than one night. Then they'd make their way up to SoCal. There was more of a car market there. New Yorkers didn't need cars. They had the fucking metro.
Seifer hadn't always lived in this little town. He'd grown up in London. He still had the accent. And the attitude. When he was 17, his father had gotten a job transfer. He'd come here, to this pathetic little town. Started highschool. And that's when he met Zell. It had been four years ago, but he could still remember the exact moment. He'd driven into the student parking lot, gotten out of his car, and slung his bookbag over his shoulder. He'd heard a shout and looked up.
A guy, who looked like an older classman, was being threatened by a younger, and shorter, blonde boy, and hiding behind him was a still younger student. Seifer walked closer and he could decipher the conversation. The eldest student was blubbering an apology to the blonde, and the youngest student looked quiet upset, but all Seifer could see was the muscular boy in the middle, clenching his fists and glaring at the bully.
"Gurney, you're gonna leave Skrit alone from here on in. Right?"
"Yes Dincht." The older boy looked defeated.
"What seems to be the problem here?" Seifer's accent caught all of them off guard, who turned to look at him. Seifer blinked, as the blue eyes of the muscular blonde drew him closer.
"Uh well uh I was just having a conversation with little Skrit over there and this guy, Zell, came over and started threatening me and uh..." The older boy, probably Gurney judging from the conversation that he heard, shrugged and looked nervous.
"He was beating Skrit up." Zell shrugged, and unclenched his fists. "I had to do something. Hey wait, you're new here, aren't you?"
"What tipped you off, the accent or that you hadn't seen me gracing your hallways?" Seifer smirked. Taking his opportunity, Gurney ran off in one direction, and Skrit in the other.
"Both, and that nobody else bothers to intercept when Gurney beats someone." Zell crossed his arms and leaned back against the brick wall. "So... what're you doing after school?"
"It depends." Seifer narrowed his eyes seductivley.
"On what?" Zell picked up on the older boy's cues.
"On what you're doing."
"Well in that case I'm showing you around town."
"Sounds brilliant."
Seifer sighed. He loved to reminisce that scene. The showing around town had consisted of going to the college campus and hanging out. They did that for a year, every day, until Seifer more formally asked Zell out. Things had been... the way they are since.
The Mechanic
Zell pushed back with his feet, rolling out from underneath the beat-up Ford Explorer that he was working with.
"Hey Raj, I didn't know I was gonna need to do axel work. Can you get this guy higher up for me?"
"Sure thing, ya know?" Rajin, the assistant mechanic, operated the lift, rising the car a few feet higher than it had been.
"Thanks man!" Zell grabbed his tools and went to work, tightening cables and removing grit as he worked. He had three loves in his life, no four- Seifer, music, martial arts, and cars. The latter three not nessicarily in that order. Those three had always been his passions, until his 10th grade year when a certain senior... well, changed everything. Now they echoed the same years in the local college- Zell in the Sophmore year, and Seifer a senior.
Zell almost dropped the unwieldy tool he was working with when the door opened. A shaft of brilliant afternoon light flooded into the dim office and made its way into the main work garage.
"Hello?" A thick southern voice drawled. Zell pushed up his safety glasses and jogged into the main office to meet this newcomer. He signed Rajin to turn down the music so that he could talk to the guy.
In the door stood a guy, about 6'1, redhead. His hair was long for a guy. He wore a khaki army jacket, jeans, and really big army boots, and a nervous smile.
"Hey wait, you're not Fujin's newest recruit, are ya?" Fujin was their scout, who dealt with the hiring agencies and unions.
"I'm not sure, but somebody hired me here. I'm Irvine Kineas." He grinned broadly and extended a hand. Zell pulled off his grimy right glove and shook Irvine's.
"I'm Zell Dincht, head mechanic. Over there's Rajin, the assistant. I can't remember what Seifer, he's the boss, was going to do with you but I'm sure we can find out." Zell walked towards the showroom, opened the door. "Hey Seif, new guy's here."
Zell propped the door open with a hand and leaned jauntilly on it. He watched Seifer turn around partially, register Zell, and then jump out of the car. Seifer jogged up, and Zell moved aside so that both could look at the new employee. Irvine did a mock salute.
Seifer stood and sized up Irvine. "You'll work out okay."