spanish-orange:

That first day didn’t end in a total disaster… Not completely. At least he had been given a second shot at this gig, and tht made him happy, if not estatic. No homelessness! All he had to do was bump and grind on a pole. Eh, could be worse.

Taking the steps down into the candy cane two at a time, he landed on the threshold with a soft thud. There was practically no one in right now, it being much too early to drink, and all the pervs were locked in their cozy cubicles. Stretching, Javier hummed to himself and moved towards the large main stage. The three cat walks and circular stages looked like some sort of odd octopus to him. Shaking the idea away, Javier clambered onto the main stage and into the back stage.

Back there was the changing rooms and employee area. There was a locker, plain green and slightly battered, with his name written in rigid font, as if showing personality in their hand writing would show caring. Opening it up he dropped in his back pack and tried to remember how he had gotten here, but for the life of Javier, he couldn’t tell. No friends, and a job that was just shy of selling his soul. 

“Could be worse.” He reminded himself glumly and shut the locker. 

Rufus was feeling much better. He had skipped out on waking up that morning and going into Colourbucks for his normal coffee + conversation. Just sort of hit the dismiss on his cell phone and rolled over and went back to sleep. Really, he needed to work on his article but that was a bit of a stretch when he was exhausted.

He had woke up at noon feeling much better and much more prepared to take the day by the horns and show it who was boss. He took Cameron out for a run - jesus fuck she was getting big, and he just about had enough saved up to take her by the vet which was apparently a necessary thing - and played with her in the park a while. He’d dropped by Colourbucks, bought a sandwich. Wrote a little (all of which wound up getting selected, deleted and replaced with an eloquent ‘agdfhdfhdf’), and then headed over to The Candy Cane a little earlier than his shift demanded.

He had just finished dressing (midriff-exposing vest and tight pants and a clip on tie. Least his hair could stay braided tonight) - lollygagging around the backstage while he waited for the club to pick up just a little - when that new guy had shown up. Well shit. He hadn’t really made the best first impression last night on this guy, he was sure. Poor guy probably didn’t even want to work at a strip joint and was doing it out of necessity - not everyone was like him - not everyone enjoyed it.

Overhearing him pretty much cemented that conclusion in his mind. Rufus took a deep breath (mentally, of course), and headed over, leaning on the locket next to Javier’s. “Hey there. Ready for another night? Sorry about last night, by the way, dude, I was just -dragging- all the livelong day and I had just wanted the night to be over. Pretty sure I didn’t come across as all that friendly. Rufus Leon, at your service. You’re brand new, ain’tcha?”

Okay, so maybe he rambled a bit. Wasn’t hard to do when he was trying to fix up what had probably been a terrible fuck up on his past self’s part. Yes, he had past selves. Easier to give a degree of separation with past stupidity if that was the case. He had extended his hand upon the fresh introduction - the fresh start - and was smiling at Javier - his whole demeanor much more warm and friendly than before.