"Duuude!" Stiles voiced into the phone, as he slumped over his computer desk, one hand holding up his head, the other holding his phone up to his ear.
"What's with you, dude?" Scott replied into the receiver as he plopped down on the edge of his bed.
"What do you mean?"
"You sound bored or drunk. I can't decide."
"Uhhh, try both," Stiles said with a chuckle.
"Why, what's up?"
"I don't know, I was uh, justa seat, seatin, sit, sitin...damn autocorrect!"
"Stiles, you're talking, not typing," Scott said with a deadpan look on his face.
"Shut up-ah, maannn, I knows."
Scott rolled his eyes but let him continue uninterrupted.
"I was a… sitin, and uhh, thinkin."
"That's never a good combo for you," Scott retorted, before laying back on his mattress, grabbing a nearby pillow for his head.
"I justa, wonder, you knows... Do you?" Stiles asked as he dropped his hand from his face and began to draw circles into his computer desk using his long index finger.
"Uh huh. I have a brain, I tend to wonder from time to time. It's a nasty habit, I gotta quit." Scott expressed following it up with a chuckle.
"Shuuussshh, maaannn, you knows Wha I mean."
"Stiles, you, don't even know what you mean. Call me when you're sober." Scott voiced before hitting the end call button, tossing his cell to the side as he closed his eyes feeling sleep take over.
"Wha, Scooott? Stiles voiced to the end tone.
"Helllooo? Wha if thhiisss wasa emmerrr, eemmeerr, uhhh, 911 thing? Shhuutta, yyouu knows Wha I mean, you nota even there, are you? Byyyyeeee diiccckkk!" He rambled off, before hanging up, placing his phone off to the side, sliding his chest and hands down the hard surface, and resting his head on top of his arms as he fell asleep.
Stiles walked over to the table, squinting his eyes to avoid the sun's bright rays, and let out a groan at the pounding in his head.
"Hello, Sunshine! Feeling better?" Scott asked with an amused smile on his face.
"Eat shit and die." Stiles grumbled as he slumped down into his chair and slid his black sunglasses onto his face, trying to block the intrusive sun.
"I guess not. I'll get you some green juice, I heard it's good for a hangover." Scott said getting up from his chair.
"What ever, just, please stop talking. I can't take your loud voice right now." Stiles stressed, rubbing at his temples trying to relieve the pressure.
Scott chuckled at his friend's misery. It was something the pair did often. One time, Scott tried to perform some sick skateboard trick he saw online and fail horribly, smacking his body hard into the cement and twisting his ankle in the process. Stiles couldn't stop from busting out laughing when Scott said he couldn't feel his own tongue, but he soon after asked if he was okay, and helped him limp home. It was all love between them.
"I'll be right back," Scott whispered towards the table, before adding in his normal pitch level, "How's that?"
"Jackass," Stiles mumbled under his breath as his friend started walking over to the bakery, the smirk never leaving Scott's lips.
"Get me a bagel with cream cheese too!" Stiles yelled out after him, but soon regretted it as his head started to throb once more.
He grabbed the side of his head in pain and moaned out, slumping back further into his seat and stretching his legs out, letting his right foot lay on the nearby sidewalk. He closed his eyes, still tired, and let out a heavy sigh.
With an abrupt kick to his sneaker, he jolted up in his seat.
"What the fuck?" He voiced, looking up towards the sky.
"Jesus!" A random guy shouted out, looking down at the disturbance, noticing the extended leg and white sneaker in his viewpoint.
He huffed and began dusting off his pants as if he had fallen, trying to smooth out any wrinkles that were formed from the incident.
"Dude, did you just kick me?" Stiles snapped, eyeing the stranger in front of him in distaste.
The teen's angered eyes quickly softened, noticing the stranger was hot. Stiles took a moment to truly observe the guy's looks. He started from the ground and worked his way up. The stranger was a tall, well-built man, his fancy grey suit showed off his defined torso and arms, He was sporting a manly black beard on his strong jawline, His hair was short, black, and slicked back in a professional manner.
Stiles couldn't make out the guy's eye color, due to the sun and his glasses, but he was sure they were just as beautiful as the rest of the man was.
"Excuse me? Kick you? You almost tripped me! Do you know how expensive this suit is?" The man argued.
Stiles rolled his eyes.
Oh great, one of those rich pricks, he thought.
"No, but I'm sure you gonna tell me." Stiles retorted, before turning his attention back to the scenery in front of him.
The man grumbled under his breath not liking the teen's attitude, "You know what? I'm late. I don't have time for your immaturity."
Stiles rolled his eyes, took out his phone, and began scrolling through his social media, bored with the conversation taking place.
The businessman took a calming breath to ease his nerves.
"Have a nice day." He forced out before taking off down the block, briefcase in hand.
"Whatever, jerk! Stiles voiced out once the guy was out of earshot.
The teen took time to admire the man's nice ass, as he walked off in the distance before turning the corner, out of sight.
"Ok man, I got you a croissant." Scott voiced as he came back to the table with goodies in hand.
"What the fuck man? I said a bagel and cream cheese." Stiles stressed.
"They're out."
"Ugh, fine." The teen replied taking a sip of his green juice, only to make a face and spit it out on the ground, seconds later.
"What the fuck is this?" He asked, holding the drink up in his hand, eyeing it in disgust and grimacing at the poison juice.
"Green juice," Scott answered, before taking a bite out of his croissant.
"It's disgusting."
Scott gave his friend a shrug, "It's healthy. Don't you have that job interview today?" He asked before sipping at his orange juice.
"Don't remind me. What a fucking day to have a hangover."
"Hi, I'm Stiles Stilinski. I'm here to see…Mr. Hale." The teen voiced to a redheaded lady who was sitting behind a marble desk.
She glanced up, eyeing the teen in question before she spoke, "Yes, he said you would be stopping by for an interview."
Stiles watched as the redhead used one of her pink manicure nails to press a buzzer. "He's heerrre." She says into the intercom, stressing the word "here" as if she was the little girl in the movie, The Poltergeist.
The woman doesn't wait for a response before moving her attention back to the paperwork and computer in front of her, "Go on in, he's been waiting for you."
"Fuck, am I late?" Stiles blurted out, looking down at the Batman watch on his wrist.
"About 30 mins late." The receptionist retorted in a disapproving tone.
"Shit, my bad. Uhh, it's been a day." Stiles stressed running a hand through his wild locks.
The lady gave the teen a bored look, before turning her attention back to her computer screen and responding, "And it's about to get worse."
"What?"
"Mr. Stilinski?" A man said, opening up a big glass door.
"Yes, that's m… ahh shit," Stiles replied once he turned his attention towards the man standing by the door, realizing it was the hot stranger from earlier.
"You." The businessman voiced, as he came to the same realization.
The receptionist watched the interaction between the two in utter curiosity.
"Uhh, come in, let's get started. Ms. Martin, please hold my calls." Mr. Hale voiced, opening the door wider for Stiles to walk through.
"No problem, sir." She answered before bending down to jot something on her notepad.
Stiles followed Mr. Hale silently into the big, expensive-looking office. The room was spacious, with glass windows all around, making the already big office feel giant with one hell of a view of the city down below. There was a minibar, a couch, a coffee table, a mini fridge, and a big black marble desk at the far end of the room with a black leather computer chair to match.
"Wow, This is all yours? Nice." Stiles said in awe as he did a three-sixty, looking around the room as he went.
"Yes, it just goes to show you what you can achieve if you assert yourself, Mr. Hale answered, eyeing the teen's Super Mario cartoon shirt before taking his seat.
"Hasn't anyone ever told you to dress for the job you want, not the one you have?" He asked, lifting a thick black eyebrow at the teen's clothing choice.
Stiles followed his eyes to his shirt and shrugged.
"Well, I guess it's a good thing I'm not trying to be a fashion model, huh?" He said with a chuckle, taking a seat across from the older man.
Mr. Hale frowned and grabbed a few loose papers off his desk, clearing his throat.
"I've been going over your resume."
"Cool, cool," Stiles replied, setting his fidgeting hands in his lap, not sure what to do with them.
"Listen, I'm going to be Frank…" Mr. Hale started.
"All right, can I still be Stiles?" The teen joked, trying to cut the tension in the room.
Mr. Hale gave him a stern look as Stiles snickered, amused.
"Must you joke about everything? It's very annoying, and distracting might I add."
"Sorry dude, I mean, Mr. Hale. I'm just trying to lighten the mood. I'll stop."
"Thank you. As I was saying, I've been looking over your resume. Your schooling scores are very impressive but, you lack experience. Normally, I would be willing to look over it with such high scores, but after meeting you today, I can confidently say, you would not be a good fit here." Mr. Hale claimed, before setting the papers at the far end of his desk and meeting the teen's gaze.
"Damn, ok. Got any Advil? I got a hell of a hangover." Stiles asked, slumping into his chair.
Mr. Hale scrunched his face up in confusion, "You are awful at this."
"Thank you, sweet of you to say. So, the Advil?" The teen persisted.
"How did it go?" Scott asked, peeking out from the fridge door in between searching for something to eat.
Stiles let out a frustrated huff before plopping down on the couch, "Awful. The guy was a judgmental rich asshole with a stick stuck up his ass and no sense of humor."
"That well, huh?" Scott replied, shutting the fridge door and turning around to face his friend.
"Anyway, I didn't even want the internship. I only agreed to go for my dad, so I could get him off my case about the whole school thing."
Scott nodded to himself before a thought came over him.
"Did you want to get out of here?"
Stiles perked up at the news, sitting up in his spot, "I thought you would never ask. Let's go."