Chapter Text
The city never slept – not at midnight when you could hear various screams under your window, police sirens passing in the distance or a devious barking and meowing somewhere too close for the comfort. And it definitely did not sleep in the morning, when everyone was getting up to go to work, or was just returning from it.
Newt got used to the constant buzz that accompanied him at each hour a day. Sudden silence would probably make him more uncomfortable than a louder version of the current chatter.
His neighbours were quiet most of the time – older people, fairly nice when they didn’t meet their even older counterparts in the hallway. You would be surprised how much noise (especially quarrels about not locking the entrance doors, having the TV too loud or leaving their shoes unattended – “It’s like inviting robbers in! Don’t you want to put your jewels outside too, so they have it easier?!”) can two couples of seniors create at eleven in the evening. When he was very unlucky and got caught in the middle of their spat, he had to reconcile to the fact he is stuck for at least 20 minutes while nodding or shaking head, and occasionally saying: “Oh yeah, without a doubt, Mrs. Harris.” Or “I’d never think otherwise Mr. Andrews.”
It might have been a cause of today’s speedy departure he made – he hadn’t even finished his tea when he heard one doors open and an elderly voice bristling about an umbrella hung up in front of the other’s people flat. It made him jump to his feet, grab a coat, put on shoes and shot out of the flat as fast as he could, only saying a hasty: “Good morning Mrs. Harris!” while the silver haired woman greeted him back in sugary voice, and said something about the weather he didn’t quite catch.
It made sense once he exited the house – a swept of icy cold wind almost froze him on spot, the grey, sad looking sky threatened with rain, or god forbid, snow, and he immediately regretted his recklessness. He shook from head to toe even when he put on his coat, his bare neck taking the worst of it, and for a second he thought about going back and live through another 20 minutes long lecture. But his watch already displayed there was no time left for that, and he had to, like it or not, go on.
It took him a lot to keep his teeth from chattering while he walked along the busy street, his right leg despising the cold already, sending an unpleasant strings of pain through him. As he tried to ignore the uncomfortable spikes he almost run into a group of people waiting at the bus station already, stopping so-so in front of the first one. He quickly changed his way and awkwardly fell behind the biggest mass, clutching the coat closer to his body. The wind was unmerciful, and he felt the waves of it pushing him around like a paper doll. October? It felt more like November, the chill creeping up on the city without warning.
“Wow, you look like you are going to freeze any second,” a voice suddenly pierced his consciousness and Newt jolted back to the reality, looking up to a young man standing next to him, watching him expectantly. He blinked few times, his brain quickly going through all the faces he knew, but finding no one who would be this guy with brown messy hair matching the same coloured eyes and strangely cocky smirk on his face as if he already had a predestined upper hand in everything. Newt shuffled and cleared his throat.
“It’s kinda cold,” he admitted, not very keen on diving into a conversation with a random stranger at a bus stop. Not to mention he already stood a bit too close for his comfort.
“Here,” the brunet unwounded his scarf quickly, offering it to Newt with a smile on his lips. “I was planning on donating it to goodwill anyway. You look like you need it more.”
“Uh…”
“Take it, I insist.”
Newt brows furrowed, staring back at the grey scarf doubtfully as if it somewhat offended him, and the guy chuckled, taking the garment back.
“It’s not like it’s a snake that’s going to strangle you, yeah?” he remarked while spreading the scarf along its lines and dusting it a little, as if he was showing there really wasn’t anything threatening in it. Newt forced down an urge to step away from the stranger and just stayed quiet, leaving him do what he wanted, until he suddenly moved back into Newt’s personal space and put the scarf around his neck quickly, tied it in a neat knot, grinning happily at his masterpiece.
“There,” he exclaimed, almost as if he said tadah! “Now it should be better.”
If Newt hadn’t been so bewildered, he would probably react sooner. But before it all got to him the stranger was already leaving, whistling happily in the howling wind, leaving dumbfounded Newt behind him.
“What the…?”
***
“Finally, man,” a strong grip on his arm dragged him immediately sideways when he entered the office and Newt almost stumbled over his own feet before he finally got stopped in a little kitchen. A broad dark-skinned man with wide smile stood in front of him, looking genuinely happy he saw him, grasping his arm firmly.
“Ouch, what the hell,” Newt shook his hand down, rubbing the place with a frown. “What’s gotten into you? And why the hell are you wearing suspenders?”
He couldn’t overlook the shiny red lines on the guy’s wide chest, and the first thing that came into his mind included a circus.
“Clara likes them,” his colleague shrugged, pulling at them with a grin, “feels hipster.”
“Geez, Alby,” Newt rolled his eyes. “We used to wear them in where… elementary school maybe? Everyone hated it.”
“Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine right in the morning,” Alby crossed his arms on the chest, looking him over. “Rough night? Not enough sleep? Your neighbours flooded your flat?”
“No, no and no, now why did you drag me all over here?” the blond stared him down, his mood dropping dangerously low. He felt chilled to the bone and his leg hurt like a bitch. He just wanted to sit down for a while, catch a breath, and get warmer.
Alby watched him suspiciously for a while longer before rummaging through his back pocket and pulling out a small, black, velvety box. Newt’s eyes widened a fraction, scanning the item profoundly.
“Oh no, you didn’t.”
“Oh I did,” Alby assured him in a serious tone.
“The hell…”
A soft click escaped the room and the box revealed a neat silver ring with a shining gem in the middle, looking like a crown. Newt was pretty sure it was the cutest ring ever if you liked that sort of thing, slim and carefully made.
“So?” Alby pressed. “What do you think?”
“You can’t be serious,” Newt snapped back from the ring to Alby’s face. “A ring? A proposal?”
“Yeah,” Alby shrugged, holding the box carefully in his big hand. “Thought it’s the right time.”
“You know her for half year, Alby, that’s not really the right time,” Newt opposed and closed the box for him hastily. It made him uneasy to think about it.
Marriages. Relationships. Commitments. Responsibilities for someone else. All the same, ending bad.
“Can you at least pretend you are happy for me?” Alby sighed deeply, his expression a little tired. Newt straightened his shoulders, pressing his lips together in irritation.
“Sure, buddy. I am bloody happy for you.”
With that he turned around and left Alby in the kitchen all alone, marching through the office quickly. He knew he was a jerk friend, never really supportive, but honesty was something he treasured, even when people were happier with a white lie. He never used that, and his colleagues already knew if they didn’t want to hear the truth, they shouldn’t be talking to him. He knew Alby for years now, but he never really celebrated his newly found girlfriend – now apparently a future fiancé. Alby was a good guy, supportive, people loved him. He could take care of anyone, talk with everybody, help with basically everything. But he was never a patient person when it came to his personal life – he moved in with Clara after two weeks of their relationship and now he wanted to marry her after half a year. If Newt knew something about relationships it was that they needed time to actually know if they are worth it. With Alby this whole logic just crashed and burned.
He sat heavily in his chair, making the whole table shake for a second, and let out a sigh. His watch showed 8 in the morning and he already felt dead tired. What was he going to do at the end of the day? Crawl back home?
“Oh, nice scarf,” a female voice jolted him up from the apathy he felt into and he quickly looked up at a black haired girl in a snug tank top and jeans, looking deviously pleased with herself.
“Warn a guy before, will ya,” he mumbled a little shaken and she smiled sweetly at him, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Just complimented you, you don’t need to go all snappy on me,” she said pointedly, swinging her hair from the shoulder. “Besides, the chief wants you in his office.”
“Oh joy,” he muttered and she winked at him. Definitely knew what’s going on, damn her.
“Oh, by the way,” she said when he finally dragged himself up again. “You are Aries, right?”
“Huh?”
“Zodiac,” she explained a little impatiently and Newt nodded with a confused look on his face.
“Right,” she pulled out a newspaper from under her arm, and trailed the page with her finger until she pointed at one paragraph. “Aries. Today you will get challenged. Do not back down, it is an important moment. Don’t underestimate your partner, take them for a nice dinner, the argument should be forgotten by tonight if you work hard.”
“Ugh,” he pinched bridge of his nose. “Really? This stuff is annoying.”
“But now you are going to think about it,” she grinned. “And at some point it surely will become relevant.
“Like right now, the biggest challenge is to walk away from you without taking the newspaper and smack you with it,” he remarked back and she stuck out her tongue out before leaving him alone.
***
The Chief’s office was fairly busy by this hour and Newt had to wait for ten minutes in front of it before the Chief told him to come on in and close the door. Newt sat down almost immediately, making his leg a little less strained. The bad weather made him hate his life at times.
“I need you to take Gally’s client,” the Chief, a slender pale man with bald head and strict exterior, started talking right away, digging a file from a drawer under his desk. “You have no pressing commitments right now, am I correct?”
“Well, yes, but-,”
“I need this guy to get the book done. And I need him to be satisfied with our services as well,” the Chief interrupted him uncompromisingly. “There is no in between.”
“Alright,” Newt backed down a little, sensing the zero choice he had. “What was wrong with Gally?”
“They didn’t really like each other,” his boss replied calmly, but Newt could see under the cold exterior it bothered him. “And we can’t afford an editor who dislike his client, can we.”
“Yes, Chief,” Newt nodded with a tight voice. If the writer disliked Gally or vice versa, Newt was pretty sure it’s going to end up the same with him. He and Gally were similar in a way – saying what they thought aloud, although Gally had always been very ambitious. Maybe even a little forceful, voicing his opinions and preferences without shame. Newt held back at that point, but his snarky remarks and zero tolerance for stupidity made a dangerous mix with most of the writers they had to work with. As an editor Newt always remained professional, but even he had moments when enough was enough and he just had to leave the client for someone else. The Chief was never happy with him when it happened, but changed the client anyway.
“Newton,” the Chief called him warningly. “Don’t mess this up. It’s a talented writer, has a lots of potential. He just needs a supervisor, a little nudge here and there.”
“Am I going to play a nanny?” Newt held back a groan and Chief’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“You are going to play what he needs. Are we clear?”
“Perfectly,” Newt uttered, his fingers curling into a fist. “When do I start?”
“Right now,” the Chief announced and pushed the file into his arms. “I’ve already informed him about your visit. I am sure you can manage from now on. The address is in the file, as well as his telephone number and e-mail address.”
Any other questions Newt had got away when a knock ended the discussion like a guillotine.
***
“So you got the Pretty face, huh,” Gally’s voice greeted him right when he exited the Chief’s office, clutching the file in his hand. “I almost feel sorry for you, mate.”
Newt glanced at the tall brown haired man with exasperation and waved the file at him.
“What was so bad you backed down? Doesn’t sound like you.”
“I just can’t stand a lack of brain in a person,” Gally shrugged, hands in pockets. “That guy is annoying and we just sort of clashed. Happens.”
“Superb,” Newt muttered unhappily. “And his writing?”
“Not bad,” the other editor admitted. “He is good, I won’t lie. Just with a bad approach to this. Attitude problems. Zero responsibility issue.”
“Pretty face?” Newt asked with raised eyebrows and Gally snorted.
“Yeah, girls call him Pretty face in here. You will see.”
“Fuck my life,” Newt grumbled and with Gally’s laughter behind him left the office back into the chilly weather.
***
Finding the right house, floor and flat was surprisingly easy, and Newt found himself knocking at the door at fairly early hour. The house was simple, nothing fancy, and he felt himself relax a little when he heard footsteps approaching from the other side.
The door swung open several seconds later and revealed a young black haired Asian man in a classy white shirt. He looked Newt over up and down and his face broke into a lazy smile. He leaned over the door and Newt got a little nervous.
“Are you Tho-,”
“I can be whatever you want me to be,” the man leered and it cut every thought Newt had at the moment.
“Who is it?” sounded from within the flat and the man didn’t even glance back when he answered with: “I dunno, a cute guy.”
“I am New-,”
Before he even could finish the thought, another young person appeared, but at that moment Newt recoiled, watching the familiar brown haired man in the doorway.
“Hey, it’s you!” the stranger from the bus stop exclaimed happily. “That was fast, wow. If you are here because of the scarf-.”
“Oh, that scarf did look a bit familiar,” the Asian one mused in meantime and Newt groaned internally. He absolutely forgot he was still wearing that thing and quickly grabbed it to pull it off him.
“I am not here because of this,” Newt uttered, pushing the offensive garment back into the stranger’s arms, earning a confused look in return. “I am the new editor-,”
“No way,” the brunet’s face lit up like Christmas tree. “That’s amazing! What a coincidence, right? Must be fate! Come on, come in, I am Thomas. Minho, get out of the way!
“What am I, a dog?” the black haired man tsked, but disappeared inside the flat with a shrug, leaving Newt and Thomas alone at the doorstep.
“Sorry about that, he is lacking manners,” Thomas grinned at him and it immediately reminded Newt about the “Pretty face” nickname they apparently gave him in the office. He wouldn’t lie; the guy was attractive in his own way – big brown Bambi eyes and all, his smile radiating friendliness, if you liked that sort of thing. “I got a call you are coming, but it was faster than I thought.”
“I see,” Newt said shortly, nodding when Thomas got out of the way to let him inside the flat. The room was pleasantly warm and spacy, Newt noted right away. A computer sat at opposite wall with opened document at the monitor, and several stacks of books surrounded it, along with two cups standing at the table and dirty dishes next to it.
“Sorry for the mess,” Thomas apologized, watching Newt a little sheepishly. “I am not really big at that.”
“He would drown in garbage, that’s what he is,” Minho suddenly appeared from the kitchen, or at least what Newt assumed the door he exited led to. “So that went fast, right? That previous guy was a dickhead.”
“Gally is a little unorthodox,” Newt opposed coldly. “But he is an excellent editor.”
“I don’t doubt he is, he edited my good mood in a second,” Minho snickered and Thomas shushed him, watching Newt frowning at that.
“Yeah, sorry about the change, it just didn’t really work out,” the brunet apologized profusely. “I hope it didn’t make a mess in your schedules or something. I thought I can go without an editor, but got assured it’s not a problem.”
“It’s not,” Newt nodded shortly. “Although it was fast, I didn’t have time to even look what I am dealing with. Do you have a manuscript somewhere I can borrow?”
“Yeah, sure,” Thomas quickly hopped to his computer, rummaged through drawers and pulled out a stack of neatly bound papers, handing them to Newt with a nervous smile.
“It’s just a beginning, three chapters, so…”
“Did Gally edit it already?” Newt quickly went through it, noting some words to pinpoint already and Thomas shook his head.
“No. Well. Yes, a bit of a first chapter before we got um… off the track,” he pushed his hands to the jeans’ pocket and swung on his feet like a restless child.
“Alright.”
Newt smoothened the binding patiently, searching for what else he should ask for or say, but nothing really came to his mind.
“I will read it and send you some more info later,” he said probably a little too unattached and Thomas nodded quietly. “Take care till then.”
“Uh, wait,” the writer stopped him quickly when Newt turned away to leave. “Don’t you wanna stay at least for a coffee or something? So we can, you know, get to know each other better?”
He seemed strangely hopeful and Newt’s stomach twisted at the sight unpleasantly.
“No, thanks,” he uttered and raised the binding. “Have lots of work now.”
“Yeah… right, sorry,” Thomas’ face fell at that a little. “Thanks again. Sorry for the trouble.”
“Happens,” the blond shrugged, reaching for the door. “Will text you around the evening I suppose.”
“Cool,” he heard Thomas saying and grabbed the handle. Before he could pull it open, a scarf landed around his neck again, tucked neatly under his coat by Thomas hands.
“I don’t really-,” he started but Thomas rose his hand to stop him.
“It’s pretty cold. Just keep it. Please,” he said in a small voice. “For me.”
For some unexplainable reason Newt did.