35{EDITED}
Job hunting wasn't nearly as exciting as everyone made it out to be.
Allen did strenuous sport passionately, but he still thought that walking around from shop-to-shop was much more exhausting. He couldn't remember the last time 2 hours of activity had tired him out so easily.
He'd been nearly bored to tears talking to some of the owners. Not to mention, dearly tempted to rip off some of their pompous expressions just to see if there really was a human underneath.
Illegal, Allen. He chastised himself, though it didn't really do much. Bad for your career, Allen. That was more of an incentive.
"Thank you for your time," Allen said politely as he exited a particularly quaint bakery.
As the door clicked shut with a little jingle, Allen ran his gloved hand through his fringe. He honestly never knew his hair colour would be such a big deal in personally-owned shops.
He briefly considered dying his hair. He definitely didn't want to do it if he didn't have to, not that he wanted his hair colour, it just grew out really quickly and he didn't have the time or the patience to dye it all of the time.
He decided that he would only dye it if all else failed.Only if all else failed.
He resigned himself to continue wandering around the city until he saw a shop that was hiring. Teenagers. With weird hair.
He sighed. This was going to be a long day.
It was nearing sundown by the time he found a shop that didn't fall into a chain that was hiring.
It was an odd little shop, tucked into the corner of an obsolete street miles away from where Allen lived.
The door, just like any other, had a little bell that cheerily dinged with his entrance. Although the ding was more intimidating than welcoming in this case.
The shop was creepy, with tones of purples and black lit with low, yellow lighting sparsely scattered throughout the small area.
"Hello?" Allen's hesitant voice echoed. He was extremely reluctant to let the door close shut behind him.
He reluctantly let the door swung closed behind him, the bell jingling once more to set his doom in stone.
He stepped further into the shop, not exactly wanting to step away from the wall where he could be stabbed at any point, but he assumed he'd probably dealt with worse, growing up with Cross and all.
Allen flinched as the sound of slow strides, pointed with the click of a heel resounded through the shop.
He felt a little ridiculous as the cold sweat that started down his brow, he really shouldn't have been that scared.
"Hello!" a graceful choice greeted to his left.
The man, Allen supposed, wasn't as creepy as he had expected, but he was definitely weird. He was rather tall, clad in a suit garnish with a white cravat. His skin was pale and ashen, he had curly black hair halfway hidden by a top hat. But what was most interesting was the tattoo on his forehead, bringing attention to his other-worldly golden eyes.
"Hi..." Allen mumbled slowly, turning to face the oddly exuberant stranger.
The man enthusiastically stuck his hand forward, "I'm Tyki Mikk, welcome to The Cat's Bell, what can I help you with this evening?"
Allen took his hand, shaking it briefly before hastily retracting his limb, "I saw you were hiring?"
the man thought for a moment before his face lit up, "Oh yes!" he clapped his hands together once.
He waved Allen in the direction he came from, "That sign was my dear sister's idea, the inspiration for the shop's name, actually. I wasn't expecting anyone to come in, really, but I'm delighted that someone like you came in!"
He brought them in front of a black door, opening it and ushering Allen in, "Come in, come in! Take a seat."
The room had a colour scheme similar to the rest of the shop, but it was just a small office with two chairs, a desk separating them.
Allen to a seat in the chair across from the one Tyki sat in.
The ebony-haired man rifled through some papers, before plucking one out with a cheerful, "Aha!" and set it down on the desk between them, handing Allen a pen.
"Read through that and sign there," he pointed to the signature line, "And you can come in tomorrow morning at 8 A.M."
Allen cocked a brow, "Apologies...but, aren't you supposed to interview me first, and then work out my hours?"
Tyki's face morphed into an expression of almost child-like surprise, "Oh yeah..." he mumbled.
He the paper back, folding his hands on top of it with a smile.
"So, Why do you want to work here, boy?" He asked, his golden eyes boring into Allen's.
"I...need the cash, to be honest," Allen responded somewhat sheepishly, averting his eyes.
"I do like the honesty," Tyki said, "When can you come in?"
"I have school on weekdays and sports practice after. I can come in at any time after 7 P.M. on weekdays and anytime after 8 A.M. on weekends." Allen told him, his heels clicking together underneath the desk.
Tyki nodded, seemingly thoughtful, before reach under his elbow and handing the paper back to me, "You start tomorrow."
"What time?" Allen asked, slowly reading through the paperwork.
Tyki shrugged, "Whenever. We close at 10 P.M. every day, so just be here by 9:30 before closing and you'll be fine."
Allen nodded, signing at the bottom of each page.
It was definitely weird, but it was better than nothing, really.
Soooo happy 69 followers I guess? Sadly, there won't be anyone gettin' it on in honour of it, but I thought it was appropriate to recognize it.