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 A Brotastic Evening [closed]

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Ebony
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PostSubject: A Brotastic Evening [closed]   Mon Jul 04, 2016 3:18 am

How long had he been at the school now? A few days or two? If he was completely honest, it was terrible here. He hated how cramped the initiate dorms were, just a shabby room crammed with bunk beds with no where to put his belongings and dust everywhere. It felt like a concentration camp more than anything, and that was only a mild exaggeration to him. There was a slight comfort in that he already knew one or two people, but he'd felt rather shafted that they had done so little to accompany him. Or his things. Or that his brother had never even stopped once to visit, never-mind that he'd never hinted at his arrival.

Although he wasn't able to hunt him down in the dorms yet, he'd caught wind that the elder boy had taken up work in the local cafe, and so that's where his feet had led him. Oliver didn't want to make it too obvious he was there, though. Despite the warm summer weather, he took a seat in a totally inconspicuous beanie, hiding away most of his light rose-tinted hair, with a dark pair of sunglasses to hide away his eyes... and near half his face it seemed.

Olive leaned back in the booth, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his jeans and letting his gaze wander for his waiter. Was a strange, quaint place to work, especially for their family. Had an old feeling to it, like from one of those black and white movies. The same thing could be said for most of the town. He wasn't sure yet what to make of it.
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PostSubject: Re: A Brotastic Evening [closed]   Wed Jul 20, 2016 8:28 pm

Dressed in his work uniform of black slacks, a crisp white shirt with rolled up sleeves and an apron, Jonathan was in work mode, absorbed by the task in front of him. He worked efficiently like an well-oiled machine, pressing coffee grinds into the portafilter and locking it into the machine, placing cups under it to catch the drips. His other hand would lift up the milk to the steamer, getting it in position and waiting for him to have a hand free to turn the valve on. It was menial work, but it kept his mind occupied, clear of anything that would upset him. Occasionally his mind would drift to things like his family, Morgan, and of course, dear Maisie. The first two were clear of anything negative, merely a query in his head on how they were doing, but Maisie, she left him unsettled. Quiet a few jugs of milk had been boiled over when he got too distracted with her, frustrated and uncertain of where he stood, thinking about her was a bad road to go down on.

But it seemed he was going down it again today.

He sighed, carefully turning on the valve as he didn't want to burn the milk again. A co-worker reached over, poking him in the shoulder from across at the register where she stood. She looked at him quizzically. "Do you need me to take over? You can go wait on the tables, I don't mind."

"Ah, that would be great, thanks."
He accepted the offer graciously, turning off the valve and handing her the jug. The perks of working in a small town cafe, everyone knew everyone and the staff were all chill, nothing like working at McCafe or Starbucks. Thank god.

Taking off his apron and hanging it up, he swiped the notepad and pen to head out with a beaming, wait staff smile. The first table he reached was one with an anti-social patron, dressed in a beanie during summer and sunglasses indoors. That was a new one. "Hello, what can I do for you today?"

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PostSubject: Re: A Brotastic Evening [closed]   Mon Sep 26, 2016 11:03 pm

As the oh-so familiar waiter came up to take his over, the smaller boy let an awkward silence drag on for a moment, or two, or three. Now that Jonathan was up close, he had to stop an admire the view. His brother had always had a kin for the "lax" life. In his modest opinion, it was a waste. Albeit this place wasn't a McDonalds or a Starbucks or some other trashy fast-food joint, he'd always imagined when Jon had got out on his own, he'd be reaching a little... Oh, higher? He would never settle for some lame restaurant job, or that's what he told himself anyways.

No matter how much he had gone out of his way to delicately mask his appearance, he figured then and there any long wait of sorts would be somewhat of a bore. "I'll take my usual favorite," Oliver said, his tone straight and firm - about as daunting as a boy's voice of his age could have possibly been, anyways. A caramel macchiato. Simple, but sweet.

A crooked smile flashed on his face as he removed his glasses, blue eyes flashing up at the elder of the two. "You remember, don't you?"
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