Rainy Days (Dead Plate)

1

Rody pedaled faster than he ever had before, his knees racing in different directions at an unbelievable pace.

Up, down, up, down, up, down.

Maybe I should just give up on Manon, he thought. It's obvious she's not going to answer my calls.

He sighed and shook his head. He'd gotten this far, why stop now?

It's fine! She's probably just been really busy lately. I can wait a bit. Hell, I'll have even more money for her than I do now if I do wait!

He heard thunder sound from above, and without stopping his bike, he looked up at the sky. Sure enough, there was a big, ominously grey cloud floating above the city.

"Great," he said aloud. He checked what street he was on, and let out a groan. He was still fifteen minutes away from the bistro.

Rody sighed and looked back down in front of him, focusing on getting to work rather than the fact it was about to start downpouring.

Five minutes later, it started to rain, and Rody pedaled faster (if that was even possible) than before.

Ten minutes after that, he arrived at the bistro. He left his bike standing outside along the side of the building, and ran to the door. When he opened it, he was greeted by an unamused Vincent.

"You're la— why do you look like that?" Vince asked, raising a thin eyebrow at Rody's... more than damp appearance.

Rody looked at his boss with a sheepish expression. "It started pouring on my way here," he replied, to which he was met with a disapproving sigh from Vince.

He watched as Vince grabbed a towel, and was caught off-guard when he was grabbed by the arm and Vince started —somewhat aggressively— drying his soaked hair with it.

"Idiot," he heard Vince say. "Where's that umbrella I lended to you, eh?" he asked. He stopped drying Rody's hair and grabbed the ginger by the shoulders, turning him around forcefully and looking him in the eyes before throwing the now slightly damp towel in his face with a dramatic sigh.

"Y'know what? I don't care. You have five minutes to dry yourself off. I suggest you use your time wisely." He then walked away without another word.

Rody blinked as he held the towel messily in his hands. "Wait," he said. "You're not gonna, like, scold me for being late, or something?" he asked once Vince had stopped and looked at him.

Apparently, his question was worth a weird look, because that's what he got from dear Vincent.

"You want me to?" Vince asked, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head slightly to the side.

Rody's eyes widened, and his face grew red with embarrassment. "No, I—" he paused, trying to form a coherent thought and turn it into words. "That's not what I was implying. Nevermind," he dismissed, wearing a sheepish smile.

Vince sighed, eyeing Rody for a few seconds before sighing a second time and then turning to walk away.

[end of chapter 1]