Snippet #2440484

On his way back to the restaurant, Brandon almost crashed into a helicopter that came around a building unexpectedly. He was still thinking about the pilot's reaction when he saw Brandon flying out of nowhere, almost sending the copter out of control from shock. He could only hope the pilot wasn't running a live camera for the late night news or something.

He landed in an alleyway nearby the restaurant, probably only half a block away, and walked toward work. It would've been stupid to just land in plain view in front of the restaurant, even if his short trail of fire when in flight was invisible to non-music masters. Just because people couldn't see Music Effects didn't mean they couldn't see Music Masters, though Brandon had to admit that invisibility would be a handy power to have up one's sleeve. Oh, the things one could get away with...

Brandon walked in a few moments later to see a rather packed room overflowing with people, chatter, yells and screams over the sports TV, and the occasional clang of glass or silverware that plagued every diner no matter what you did. Nobody seemed to care how loud it got, as long as everybody was having a good time. He walked forward, sifting between chairs, tables, booths and roaming people until he reached the opposite side of the restaurant where the bathrooms were. It only took him a couple of minutes to get into uniform, a rather casual black suit and pants saved for special occasions which Kyrian would call whenever it seemed necessary.

"Wasting no time, I see." Brandon heard from his right as he walked out of the bathrooms. He looked on to see a man only a little taller than Brandon was, probably 6'3", wearing a uniform as black and clean-cut as the rest of the staff's. He had short black hair today, which was a surprise, considering that he preferred long hair over short. Sharp brown eyes stared ominously, unnerving Brandon slightly despite how used to it he should have been. And as always, the man kept an atmosphere as respectable as it was foreboding. Even complete strangers at times found it difficult to talk to this man.

This was Kyrian. Brandon's boss, fatherly figure, biggest impact on life and the most impossible person to bring oneself to ask favors from. Brandon had to clear his throat before responding, something he had done all day. Must be something in the air. "Well, the boss called, and we're a bit short on hands anyway." It was the truth, too. The restaurant worked below ideal employment for it's size, though we managed to scrape by without complaints, even on busy nights like this when Kyrian himself would have to step in.

"I'm thankful enough that you could come, even more so with how fast you arrived. There's cleaning to do on those corner tables over there, go start with those while Michel assigns these last guys to them." Kyrian responded, then quickly went to his office, probably to finish some paperwork that was left unattended due to the sudden rush of people. Brandon got to work at cleanup just as fast, then circled around other duties to relieve other employees if only for a few minutes of break time.

That was almost everyone's job here. Do anything that had a post to fill. The system worked out surprisingly well after we got a decent number of employees (yet still small compared to other restaurants), though we all worked long hours when we were called in. Nobody seemed minded it, and work always got done by some daily miracle. Maybe nobody cared because the pay was surprisingly high. Brandon tried not to care, because he and Kyrian combined were paying the apartment bills for both themselves and Brandon's mother.

It was just a little past eleven when he checked the clock again, and he took a break as soon as he got the chance. He got himself a glass of water and a few french fries to munch on from the kitchen, and sat down at the only empty booth available. It didn't look like anybody else would be coming tonight, unless Mick or Astrid dropped by after the meeting. Maybe that Jack person would be with them... They were business partners now, after all. Though it wasn't Jack who worried Brandon. If anyone, it was Dean and that lady who appeared out of nowhere who would most likely turn on Brandon and his friends. Six digits of cash was a lot to gain from a simple kill job, but it was also a lot to bribe with. And with a mansion like that, it wouldn't be a surprise if hundred-thousand amounts barely dented Dean's wallet. There was something more to this, surely, and Brandon found it quite funny that there were more leads on Dean eventually betraying us than leads on the murderer.

You don't know that, Brandon thought to himself. Perhaps Mick and Astrid would have the details after hearing the whole meeting out. Or maybe they wouldn't. It doesn't matter, I already agreed. Let's just get it over with, yea?

Brandon cleaned up after his break and got back to work shortly after, and ended up taking over the receptionist's stand by some accident. All he did was stand around, watch the door, and mark empty booths on a tablet as people left. He refilled his ice cold water twice to keep himself occupied after finishing the glass. So he stood, half daydreaming and half watching the door for customers leaving and entering. "And so, the wait begins..." He muttered to himself.