To Trust A Cop

Beta: yes
Notes: Thank you so much for your reviews! They mean a lot to me, even more so as they came faster and were more than I had hoped for! Thank you, thank you!!

And I know my spelling is worse than worse and I apologise. Right now I don’t have a beta that doesn’t have a problem with their computer and so I have to try and re-read the chapters my self. I hope all errors and so don’t kill the joy of reading or destroy the story.

Anyway, this is the first chapter with… plot…


2

What was he doing there again?

“Do you have any experience as a waiter from before?”

Ah, the job interview.

“No, sir.”

The office was small and windowless. Still it was tidy and clean and obviously a working area. There was a computer and photocopier and even a coffeemaker. There were shelves with all kinds of stuff. Was that what he thought it was? On a shelf furthest down there was a box which looked to have mainly sextoys in it. Well… what had he expected from this sort of club?

“Well, I’ll be honest with you kid,” the sturdy man behind the desk said as he looked up and put his hands together.

The man was heavily built, almost leaning to the bodybuilder way. His hair was cropped short and his clothing strict and clean. His eyes were a tone of silver grey, much like his hair. Maybe he had some military background. Squall got the impression this was a man you could trust but one that expected much from you and hard work.

“This isn’t the sort of club where you sit down for a still night of drinking. We got strippers and the waiters have to stand to be touched by some of the more overeager ones, you get my meaning?” Squall nodded silently, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“You’re a little too young for my taste. We need employees that know how to handle themselves, but I see here you got quite a lot of working experience. You didn’t finish school?” the man asked and eyed the papers and then Squall.

“No, sir. I needed to work to afford my living,” he said honestly.

Now he had blown it. So far he hadn’t gotten any decent job because he hadn’t even finished the last years of Elementary School. This was the last place he had visited today. So far he had only got rejections. Either because he had too little experience in the particular field of work, or because he was too young, or because he hadn’t any school background. Some he had just said no to.

“Why didn’t you use your body? You could easily get enough money to both study and pay your living?” Grey eyes fixated him to the spot and Squall’s throat thickened.

“It’s out of the question,” he answered shortly.

No, don’t tell him this was just one of those men? They seemed to be everywhere. It was those kinds of men who had forced him to live on his own and start working in an early age. No foster home ever seemed to be the perfect one. Trouble always came.

“You could easily get a few customers here. Most of my employees have a few chosen ones. I’ll only take 20 percent from your payment in exchange for location and protection against violence,” the man continued and a frustrating wave of anger flooded Squall.

Why? It always it came to this. Couldn’t he find just one job or place where he wasn’t harassed? One place where the people looked at his working efforts and not his body?

“If this is how it’ll be, I have no more business here,” the brunet said unable to completely hide his bitterness as he rose to leave.

“Sit down,” the sharp order was like cutting off strings and Squall sat down again.

“I won’t pursue you to do anything you aren’t willing to do, but you need to know what kind of world you’re getting into,” the man gently explained and eyed Squall.

Squall nodded but didn’t look at the man. Why couldn’t he just leave? He wasn’t going to get the work anyway.

“You can work nights every Friday, Saturday and Sunday. You get a locker in the back and your own keys to the backdoor. You work off the payment for the working clothes. Here’s your schedule.” Squall was given a piece of paper and he stared at it.

“Thank you,” he said as he looked up.

“I’m not doing you a favor, kid. You need to be strict with the guests and there’re no drinking or taking drugs during working hour. If you’re going to smoke, you do it on your break outside. If you can’t handle the atmosphere, you don’t come complaining but quit, got it?” the man grunted with that harsh eye.

“Got it,” Squall said and felt strength returning.

This new job would give him a little more money. At least he would be able to eat three meals a day and maybe even save up enough to buy new clothes and a bookshelf to his apartment. Hyne knew he needed one desperately.

“Trixy will be your mentor out there. She’ll show you how everything works and if there is anything you need to know, you ask her. She’ll break you in in no time,” his chief explained while fishing up a nametag and giving it to the youth.

“Talk to Ben outside and give him this. Don’t be late to work.” The brunet received a piece of paper.

“No, sir.” Squall went out still in a dazzle.

This would be tough, he imagined, but nothing he wouldn’t be able to handle. He needed this. The club was closed during the day except the restaurant area that was open for lunch hungry guests. Alcohol and the inner part of the club opened at nine and Squall went on his shift at eleven on Saturday. On Sunday he started at nine so he could get home earlier.

He figured that Ben was the big man pacing around and doing whatever he did before the club opened and his duty kicked in.

“Mr. Unimas said to give you this,” he said quietly and gave Ben the little piece of paper.

The big man grunted something and eyed Squall up and down before he grunted something else that the brunet took as a “clear off”.

The day was hot and sunny though it was running towards the end of it. He started his new work next night. Before he’d had the weekends off. So he figured he could squeeze something in.

Coming home to his apartment wasn’t an uplifting thing. He lived a story up and had to pay extra to be able to store his bike in the garage. At least there it was protected from theft. One could hope.

His neighbors straight from his door were fighting again. Those two could make the roof lift. The brunet sighed as he heard them the moment he stepped into the building. Somewhere else in the building someone played music in an attempt to make everyone deaf. He had never seen the person that played but knew whoever it was lived at the fourth story.

“Going to pay me today?”

The brunet quietly groaned and turned around on the stair. Down there with one foot in the apartment and one outside, stood his landlord. Slimy looking with dirty clothes, greasy hair and a snippy looking face.

“It’s not payment day yet,” Squall answered silently.

“No, but you owe me since last month,” the man snapped and Squall glared, making the man flinch just a little.

“You’ll get your money, you know that,” he growled.

“Oh, yeah? You know, you’re always bad with the rent and you disturb your neighbors. I could kick you out for that,” he continued.

Squall glared harder at him and the foot in the hall disappeared into the apartment.

“Anyway, just pay up,” he grumped and closed the door with a bang.

Squall sighed and shook his head before starting upward again. What a pathetic human being. Why was he always harassing Squall? So? Squall was often late with the rent or couldn’t pay everything at once. Last month he just couldn’t make the whole thing work because he couldn’t work for three days.

The thought about the cause to that made his thoughts and mood darken. If not for that stupid cop he wouldn’t be in this clinch again. He had just been able to work his way back to plus minus zero with his landlord, but then he had to stay home for three days and his boss didn’t accept his calling in sick without a note from a doctor. Bastard. That about not accepting he said when Squall returned to work.

He opened the door to his humble place just as the husband from the place straight from his opened the door and all the yelling traveled out in the hallway. The man banged closed the door and screamed at Squall to not “Fucking meddle!” and “Haven’t you seen a fucking fight before?” before the brunet could walk into his place and shut the door.

Locking it behind him, it felt as if he could finally breathe. A train thundered past and it was just far away enough to not make the house shake. He took off shoes and jacket before going to the kitchen for a glass of water. Directly to the left from the entree door, there was the bathroom. If you didn’t fancy big spaces and could deal with having the sink almost touching your butt while taking a piss, it wasn’t too bad.

Almost then directly to the right was an opening into the kitchen area. It was fairly big. It already had an oven, fridge and cooler and bench and cupboards. Even a little table with two chairs. There was also a large opening into the last and biggest room. Also the only room with a window that looked out over the streets.

He had a little table under the window, then a bed, his working desk and the one and only bookshelf. It was filled with drawing material and sketches, paintings and a few drawing books that described different styles.

The table by the window was hidden under piles of books. The floor along the walls in the whole apartment was filled with different cardboards. It was small but he liked to imagine it was cozy.

The youth took a look in the fridge. He had some pasta that he could warm up. But he better eat that later or he’d wake up in the middle of the night from hunger. Closing it, he took another glass of water to trick himself that he wasn’t hungry. He wouldn’t get fully paid from that fat boss of his, so he wouldn’t be able to pay the whole rent unless he went hungry until the end of next month He probably wouldn’t get paid until next month at this new work either.

Squall left the kitchen and slumped down at the bed. A few study books laid spread. Mostly from Elementary School. He had bought one book for high school but he just didn’t get it. He left the bed and slumped down in front of his desk instead and lit his one and only lamp.

The ark was empty and the trashcan almost full. So much good material wasted. Ever since that… blond had showed him some good times twice. If he succeeded to force something through his hand it just ended up looking like the blond or one of the two others or of some sexual thing. It was frustrating. Even more so as it wasn’t even well done, nothing like he was usually able to draw. No one would buy such rubbish.

Sighing, Squall banged his head in the desk. It was no use. He was in a slump and he had never before experienced one. He went back to the bed instead and tried reading the books for kids but soon abandoned it. Who was he kidding? He was no good with math or writing. His spelling was horrible. It took a long time for him to read anything. He couldn’t keep track of history or geography. He would never be able to take an exam anywhere.

Just sometimes it was easy to fantasize about more easy ways to live this life. Like dealing drugs or start robbing… or prostitution. Squall snorted and curled up on his side, watching the milky sky through the dirty window.


Author’s Note: Kind of a depressing chapter, isn’t it? Or do you think something else?

Mostly I crave reviews to continue anything… It’s always a boost kick to know someone is antsy for the continuation of things ;)