Chapter Text
7:30 a.m
Sypha slammed her hand down on the top of her alarm clock. It was an old one her grandfather had given her. It was the bane of her existence, but it reminded her of home, so she still used it despite the god awful beeping sound it made for an alarm.
Her hair was tousled and oily from sleep, sticking out in wild directions as she tumbled out of bed. Her first stop in the morning was never the shower or the toilet. Sypha didn’t even enter the bathroom before starting a pot of coffee. Her morning brew always came before all else.
She spent less than fifteen minutes in the bathroom each morning, so long as she didn’t plan on shaving. Sypha was efficient. She brushed her teeth and washed her face in the shower, since washing her hair didn’t take too long. Once she was done, she wrapped herself in a towel, poured a cup of coffee and quickly got dressed, all while her hair was wrapped in a towel.
She spent the rest of her time in the bathroom fixing her hair, putting on mascara and filling in her eyebrows because apparently blonde eyebrows only seemed to show up naturally on one person in the world and that person was Adrian Tepes. He doesn’t count, though. She grumbled inwardly as she hurriedly penciled in her left brow. He’s inhumanly beautiful.
By 8:05 she was slipping on her shoes and chugging down the rest of her coffee before pouring another cup in her thermos. Purse. Keys. Sunglasses…what else?
The memory that her bank account was running low struck her suddenly. Shit. Lunch will have to be quick. She ran back into the kitchen and opened the fridge before resigning to the fact that she would have to settle for three granola bars and whatever she could afford from the vending machine.
And just like that, Sypha was out the door, hopping in her little Buick. Traffic was heavy and she needed to be to work thirty minutes earlier than usual. All she could think to herself, as she pulled out onto the freeway ten minutes later than she would have liked, was how badly she needed to get a different job.
This blows.
8:23 a.m
Trevor was startled awake by the blaring sound of his alarm going off right next to his ear. His phone screamed at him until he pressed the home button, groaning as he checked the time. He had pressed snooze three times and the adrenaline of being startled awake, pulsing through his veins, quickly died down. Fuck...caffeine…
He stumbled into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. Only three cans of Red Bull were left, and he would need at least two of them to get him to work.
“Looks like I’m going to the store tonight.”
The satisfying crack of an energy drink opening had a Pavlovian effect on Trevor. He downed half of it before he even reached the shower. Getting ready for work didn’t take much time. He dressed as he always did; in something he could get dirty, and towel dried his hair before running a comb through it and brushing his teeth. Toothpaste tastes horrible with red bull, but that was the price he was willing to pay in order to feel a little less like a zombie in the morning.
With his wallet, phone, keys, and his second energy drink of the morning, Trevor jogged down the steps of his apartment complex to the parking lot where his truck sat. It roared to life when he turned the key in the ignition and the radio blasted, startling him wide awake once more. “Fucking hell.” He winced, quickly turning down the stereo. As he fiddled with the radio, the clock on his dashboard caught his attention. 8:45 a.m
“Not too shabby.” He smirked to himself before spinning off out of the parking lot. “Look at me, holding down a 9 to 5 job.”
9:00 a.m.
Adrian had woken up at 5:00 a.m and arrived at the studio at 6:00. He was trying to come up with choreography that would be impressive for the audience of his middle school aged groups, but was struggling to keep the moves simple enough for awkward pubescent teens to wrap their brains around.
It had been two and a half weeks since Trevor had started the project of repairing the black box studio. Judging by the progress the man had made so far, it would be quite some time before the walls were finished, but Adrian didn’t mind. The more time he spent at the studio, the better.
Sypha, on the other hand, was spending less and less time in his dance classes. He missed seeing her face, but they kept in touch as often as possible. They hadn’t known each other for long, only around six months, but they were quickly becoming closer and closer friends. Soon enough, Adrian was confident that they would be comfortable enough together for him to make a move on her.
Ew, that makes me sound like I’m grooming her. He physically grimaced in the mirror and the thought caused him to stop in the middle of an eight count. He shook the thought from his mind and tried to focus once again, but he continued to misstep.
He groaned, marching over to the speakers to pause the music. Jesus, these two are gonna become a problem if I can’t focus on work. He frowned.
Much to his delight, when Adrian lifted his phone, he was greeted by a notification from none other than the speaker magician herself. He smiled at the sight of her name across the banner on his screen.
I’m sorry I haven’t made it to classes lately. Work has me running around like a dog.
I want to grab coffee sometime
My treat
:)
Adrian typed back eagerly.
Don’t worry about it!
And, I’d love to
Name a time and place
How about Saturday afternoon, at Double Shots?
It’s a date ;)
See you then!
It was right around then when Adrian heard the front door of the studio open. Classes didn’t start until 11:30, which meant Trevor had actually showed up on time that morning.
Should I give him shit?
He heard Trevor toss an empty can into the trash bin and belch loudly. Adrian wrinkled his nose.
Yeah, I should give him shit.
He quickly ducked his head out of the room, peering around the corner.
“Well look at you, showing up on time like a responsible adult. I was just starting to convince myself that you couldn’t tell time. You’re full of surprises.”
“Fuck off.”
“That’s no way to speak to your employer.” Adrian pouted.
“Fuck off, sir .”
“Much better.”
The dhampir only received a middle finger in response. Trevor had tried to hold back from snarking back when his new “boss” gave him shit for literally anything he did, he read had, but he quickly learned that such a battle was futile to begin with. Besides, he was pretty sure the bastard actually enjoyed their tiffs.
9:07 a.m.
Trevor had only been granted a few minutes of peace before he sensed the presence of someone standing in the doorway. With a defeated sigh, he turned around and crossed his arms, trying hard to ignore how the Adrian’s hair fell like golden waterfalls over his shoulders and neck, and how his toned legs looked so long and graceful in his tight pants and- am I drooling? Trevor frowned.
Adrian wasn’t even actually looking at him, but he had his head buried in his phone, typing away as he walked casually over to the ladder on which Trevor sat. He was smiling at his screen. He’s texting Sypha isn’t he?
“Can I help you?”
Like the pompous bastard he was, Adrian held up one finger to say ‘ just a second’, and continued typing for a minute before finally looking up. Trevor was irked out of his mind, but did Adrian care? Of course not. He had done that specifically to piss Trevor off.
“I wanted to stop in and ask if you were free on Saturday.”
Trevor shook his head and turned back to the wall. He was penciling in lines where he needed to put in new screws and nails on the structure boards. “Look man, I know I haven’t been exactly punctual, but I’ve been working my ass off on this project, and I’m just one guy. I really can’t come into work on the weekend, I—“
“I’m not asking you to work, Belmont.” Adrian came around the front of the ladder to step into Trevor’s view. He was smiling, but he looked like he was about to dare Trevor to do something, like a child with a mischievous plan.
“Okay...then...why do you want to know if I’m free?”
“I want to take you out for coffee.”
Trevor narrowed his eyes.
“What?”
“I want to take you out for coffee on Saturday.” Adrian repeated. “Sypha is coming with.”
What...is this some sort of trap? Is this mother fucker trying to lure me someplace shady so he can suck my blood or something?
“Uh-“
“I’d like to get to know you better.” Adrian interjected. “Sypha says she wants you to come too.”
Sypha wants me to come?
“Did she invite me?”
“No, I did.” Oh, what? “So are you free or what?”
Trevor was good at making split second decisions. He revered himself as being quick on his feet, but at that moment, his tongue felt tied and all he could see was the ridiculously attractive guy asking him to go get coffee with a woman whom was also incredibly good looking. He felt the gears in his brain stutter for a second or two, earning a coy smirk from Adrian who was about two and a half heads beneath him while Trevor was standing on the third rung of the ladder.
“Uh...well...where?”
“Double Shots, it’s about twenty minutes from here. I can text you the location if you want. You have my number saved in your phone, right?”
“Well...I, uh-“
“You’re kidding me.” Adrian frowned. “I’m your employer and you don’t even have my number saved in your phone?”
The world started coming back to Trevor and he remembered who he was talking to. If this mother fucker thinks he can just— “Listen, dude, you didn’t hire me to be your buddy—“
“No, I didn’t,” Adrian bit back, jabbing an accusatory finger into Trevor’s thigh. “But I didn’t hire you to be my enemy either, and it's just common decency to at least keep your employer’s number in your phone in case they call you. You know, because maybe you’re late or you didn’t show up to work, or maybe I just need to get a hold of you for some god forsaken reason . You know, because that’s how things normally work.”
After years of working odd jobs, jumping from city to city, and suffering under countless employers, Trevor knew when to back down from a fight. Usually, it just wasn’t worth it. Most often, he just didn’t care enough. This was one of those times.
“Jesus, fine.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the contacts app. “Here. Put your number in.”
Adrian did, with as much attitude as possible, and handed back the device. “Be at Double Shots by noon on Saturday. Sypha and I are meeting there.”
“Wait you’re still— why do you still want me to come?”
It was like every time Adrian flashed his petty little smirk, he was hiding something, but he was still stupidly gorgeous and infuriating to look at. “You’re still a fool as ever, aren’t you, Belmont?”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“See you Saturday.”
And just like that, Trevor was left to stew in his own thoughts. He heard the music start back up again from the studio and he recognized the song as a county classic. 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton.
Cryptic-ass, blood-sucking mother fucker...What the fuck is with him?...Is he trying to enthrall me? Has he already enthralled Sypha?
In the end, deep down, Trevor wouldn't admit that a tiny part of him was excited for Saturday.