No strings attached

Pt.9- Contrast

"Y-you don't have to help me y'know? I'm not a kid."

"You don't have to be a kid to receive help. Plus you told me you've never attended a fancy dinner before, so I figure you don't know how to put a suit on, right?" The elder inferred out loud, continuing to dry Yokozawa's hair.

"It shouldn't be that hard. I can figure it out myself. I'm not incompetent."

"Very well. Go finish getting ready."

The worker stood up and shrugged the undershirt on, buttoning it up and sliding the jacket on top. He left it open and walked towards one of the forsaken mirrors where his bag was at. He pulled out a comb and some gel and began styling his hair. "How do you want me to do it?"

"Hmm?"

"How should I do my hair? You bought me for two days, so I figured I should look the way you want me to."

Kirishima shrugged, gathering the things he'd need to get ready. "It honestly doesn't matter. I'm sure you can pull off anything."

Yokozawa gave a stiff nod and began slicking his hair back, sighing when a few stubborn pieces of hair refused to work with him and remained framing his face. He used more gel but it was futile, the locks of hair just didn't want to cooperate. He glanced around the room to see if the other had witnessed his struggle but sighed in relief when he heard the shower running.

Good. That man is overwhelming and admittedly too observant. I don't think I'm going to last two days with him. If not for the money, I wouldn't be here.

He finished up by spraying some cologne on and laying on the bed, his eyes staring up at the mirror above. How could he have allowed his emotions to get in the way of his work? This line of work wasn't exactly something he took pride in, but he did care enough to provide good service.

And getting too involved and allowing feelings to surface didn't bring good results or qualify as a job done well. He had to get his shit together. All of this was just for the money.

Nothing more, and nothing less.

When he heard the restroom door open he sat up and watched as Kirishima emerged fully dressed in a black suit. His hair a bit damp and resting messily. "What time is it?"

Yokozawa scrambled up and retrieved his phone, tapping the screen and reading the time. "It's about to be six."

The elder hummed in response. "Well we have an hour to spare. Are you sure you don't want a drink?" He asked, walking over to the mini bar and pouring a shot. "Or you could rest for a bit. Maybe watch some television or something?"

"I'm fine."

"Oh. It's just that you seem bored."

"I can assure you I'm having the time of my life."

A frown made it's way to Kirishima's face. "I know you're being sarcastic. Isn't there anything you like doing? I feel a bit bad just keeping you here."

"Don't feel bad. It's not like you're forcing me."

"If you want to be technical- I am forcing you to stay. You can't leave because I've already paid for you."

"Knowing I'm going to get paid keeps me content." Yokozawa smiled. He actually smiled at his own words, and it wasn't a deceitful gesture either. He felt happy knowing that he was going to get paid for this encounter.

"Haha. I guess that's a good way of looking at things. Speaking of which, have you came up with a number yet? I told you to let me know how much you want to get paid."