Chapter Text
When his friend Shiro offered him a well-paying job that came with free training, Keith didn’t realized said job would be in the most frilly, disgustingly sweet aesthetic and smell of a flower shop he’d ever laid eyes on. He was so shocked he bumped a flowerpot, the dirt and ceramic spilling all over the white, shiny tile.
“Whoa, Keith, what’s wrong?” Shiro said as he started to hurry to what looked like a broom closet. Keith just stared at the mess he’d made like an idiot, mumbling “What the hell?”
Shiro pulled out a broom and dust pan, Keith could see that there was also a ton of gardening tools and several pots and vases inside, “It’s a flower shop.”
“I can see that.” Keith huffed, looking oddly at the dust pan Shiro held out to him “You’re helping,” Shiro frowned “You break shit you either buy it or clean up.” and Keith sure as hell didn’t have any cash or he wouldn’t have been force to ask for Shiro’s help.
After the mess was fixed, Keith heard foot steps from the back of the store. The shop itself was small, being wedged in between a Subway and a creepy old women who made taxidermy out of people’s dead pets. Across was a tattoo shop that was three times this shop’s size, which was pretty ironic to Keith if he’d thought about it. The flower shop was covered in...you guessed it; flowers. Keith couldn’t tell you what most actually were, but the colors were bright, pastel pinks, blues, purples and yellows. They reminded him of those nasty chocolate Easter eggs they sell at the local grocery market. There were a bunch of hanging green vines hung from the ceiling. Keith knew this because one got tangled in his hair when he was throwing away the flowerpot mess.
Then, an older man walked out, covered in dirt and wearing a pink latex apron. He was dark with deep lines all over his plump face. His hair was a dark gray, well, what hair he had left. Though he did have a huge, braided beard that came own to his stomach. He wore a mustard yellow shirt beneath his apron with khaki shorts to match. In his hands were what looked like plastic ice cube trays with tiny stems sticking out.
“Ah, Shiro!” He had a booming voice for an old man “Glad to see you’re here early! I finally found a pot to fit the Hydrangea sprouts! I already got the dirt in so we can start-” The cheerful smile faded when he found his flowerpot was not on pedestal he last left it.
He looked at Shiro, then Keith, then the pedestal, then Shiro again, then Keith, then back to Shiro “Mr. Garrett, I was telling you the other day about how I found someone to help out around the place.” Keith could feel the awkwardness stabbing him in his gut “This is Keith.” Shiro saw Mr. Garrett’s eyes still on the pedestal “He uh...may have knocked over the flowerpot when we walked in.” ‘Thanks asshole’, Keith thought, ‘I’m sure he’ll hire me now.’. The old man stared at him hard, as if he we’re seeing every flaw, every problem, every sin Keith had ever made with his dead, cold eyes. Then he smiled again and placed the Hydrangeas on the counter behind him.
“Well, no harm done! I’m sure Hunk can run back to Home Depot and get another one.” He clasped a strong hand to Keith’s shoulder that put the fear of god in him “So, you want a job here?” Keith’s eyes slid to Shiro, who have a thumbs up. Keith nodded “Good! Great! I’m sure you’ll fit in fine around here.” He turned around to grab the flowers and put them back into the other room “We can discuss further details tomorrow morning. Today can be training day. Shiro, since you’re the manager, I’m sure you can train him? I would myself, but Ioana is making me go to this odd yogurt class.”
“Uh, Mr. Garrett I think she meant yoga?” said Shiro, looking as confused as Keith felt
“Ah! Yes, that! Crazy woman, I’ll break a hip one day, I tell you!” There was shuffling in the back room before “Be sure to lock up the shop, interview tomorrow, and don’t wear anything you don’t want dirt on, boy!” and the sound of a door being shut and locked.
“Mr. Saulo’s kinda...” Shiro started as he walked behind the counter.
“Crazy?” said Keith as he leaned against the front door.
“What? No! He’s a nice guy, just a little over the top.” Shiro explained “He owns this place, has ever since him and his wife, Mrs. Ioana, moved here a couple decades ago. When I moved here during my first year college, I worked here part time and...” Shiro drifted off “I don’t want to really quit.”
“Why did you think I’d want to work here?” Keith said “The hell do I know about plants? I studied astrophysics!”
‘Yup, you did and did you find a job?”
“...”
“That’s what I thought.” Shiro frowned “You don’t need to know much, keep inventory and lift packages basically. Hunk does deliveries and gathers any equipment while I handle the front and make sure the plants are looked after.”
Keith sighed “Alright. I’ll give it shot. Whats the rundown?”
“Simple. Mr. Garrett opens the shop at eight, be here at fifteen til seven to get things ready. The thing about this place is that we get hundreds of orders every month. Weddings, funerals, proms, birthdays, anniversaries, and just basic decorations to every store in the state. Mrs. Ioana has a greenhouse and garden at their house so they can have nonseasonal flowers that don’t normally grow around either summer or winter. That’s why we need some extra help. That and because Mrs. Ioana gets upset that she doesn’t spend much time with her husband and son anymore. Hence, the yoga class. We get three fifteen minute breaks all day and a thirty minute lunch break. Mostly Hunk and I got next door to the Subway, but Mrs. Ioana will sometimes bring over homemade stuff.”
Keith glance over to look at the tattoo building across the street. A large purple and black sign had ‘The Inked Rose’ wrote in a bold font.
“And what’s that place?” Keith nodded to Shiro.
“Oh, that’s Matt’s place.”
‘Your boyfriend has a tattoo shop? Matt? The scrawny nerdy guy? Owns that place?” Keith was shocked. He’d only met Matt probably twice since he’d moved to California and one of those times was at a party where everyone was too drunk to figure out to walk or put on pants. Long story.
“Matt did tattoos all the time while we were in school. He just did them in his dorm. Then his apartment. He only saved up enough money to get this place last year.”
“It’s huge. Why does it have two stories?” Keith caught to people coming out of the tattoo shop and started sitting on the concrete steps of the building. It was some lanky Hispanic guy wearing a black tank top and dark jeans with aviators pushed up on his head and some younger looking kid in glasses with jean shorts and a white shirt with the phrase ‘Get Inked’ in the same bold font as the sign out front.
“Matt lives there too, with his roommate Lance.” Shiro looked out the windowed door “Lance is that guy in the black. And the kid in white is Matt’s sibling, Pidge.”
“Pidge?” Keith raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah, no one knows why they picked that name, but it fits.”
“They work there?”
“No, they’re only a junior in high school. Pidge just runs the front desk. Matt, Lance and Allura all work there. They actually buy tons of flowers from us. Red roses, actually.” Shiro grinned “Matt named the place after this shop, in return, they get their flowers half off.”
Keith hadn’t realized he’d been staring at the one tattoo guy, Lance, until Shiro poke his arm “Enough chatting, we gotta finish up here and then we can head over so you can ogle Lance in person.” He smirked when he watched Keith’s face scrunch up in disgust.
“I was not ‘ogling’ him!” Protested Keith.
“Sure thing buddy.” Shiro laughed.