VEIN
o1.
Brendon, we need 800 copies of the Armani brochures for the show tomorrow. He nods, scurrying away to make the call, “800 brochures for Prada’s summer handbag show,” Brendon speaks quickly to the representative on the other line who agrees to have them ready by four at the latest. “Wait,” He pauses, “did I say Prada? I meant Arma-” But the woman had already hung up, a dial tone rings in replacement. He curses silently and smiles lamely at his boss passing by.
“Is everything all right, Brendon?” Spencer Smith, the owner’s son inquires to which Brendon gives a small nod.
“Everything’s fine, sir.”
He flashes Brendon a flawless smile and pats his shoulder before departing to his office.
When Brendon’s positive the boss is out of hearing rang he picks the phone up again, fiercely dialing the printing company’s number. The call doesn’t go through, instead beeps signal that the line is busy. He hangs up, slamming the phone down and lets out a sound that could resemble a strangled owl.
Sarah, the top editor-in-chief, looks at him with sympathy, “Anything I can help with?”
“Can you stop 800 Prada brochures for being printed by noon?”
She grins at the younger man confidently, putting her current product aside, “I’m Sarah Orzechowski, of course I can.”
It’s a half an hour drive to NLP with traffic and could have possibly been the scariest moment of Brendon’s life; never again would he willingly get in a car with this woman, for a pretty sweet girl she has a colorful array of vocabulary and killer heals that could break through the gas pedal.
“Sir, sir!” Sarah shouts at a worker carrying a large stack of paper when the pair enters the warehouse, he stops, giving her a bizarre look and waits for her to continue, “Where would I be able to find the manager?”
The worker nudges his head to their left and continues in the opposite way. Sarah smiles at Brendon again but on the other hand she’s always smiling, “Watch and learn, kid.”
He observes her posture straighten as she barges into the office without announcement, “Sarah Orzechowski, editor-in-chief of VEIN Magazine. We seem to have a mistake with the prints for the handbags; I need 800 Armani brochures by four o’clock.”
The manager looks up from his paperwork with no emotion, “I’m afraid that’s not possible miss, your prints have already started. If you’d like we can print the Armani, also but you would have to buy both and your order would not be ready in time.”
She looks bewildered and huffs, “Either you cancel the prints now and start the Armani brochures or we take our business elsewhere and let’s be honest,” She pauses and pointedly looks around, “You can’t afford that.”
The Armani brochures reach Spencer’s desk by quarter to four thanks to Sarah and needless to say he’s pleased. Spencer approaches Brendon’s desk a few minutes later, “These are great Brendon, thanks for the help.” Before Brendon gets the chance to reply Spencer has continued, “You’re not going to be wearing those glasses to the show tomorrow, are you?”
Brendon makes a face and self-consciously pushing his fire engine red glasses to his face, “Is there something wrong with them?”
“Oh… No, of course not,” Spencer replies almost remorsefully, “Be there by noon.”
A little later, when Brendon arrives home Jon is already there, in the kitchen. Brendon can hear him clashing pans and swearing to himself from across the apartment. He chuckles softly and travels over to help his friend.
In the kitchen there are pans and what-not piled in the sink and a stiff man stirring something at the stove.
“Jon, what are you doing?” Brendon questions the man in charge.
There’s a muffled response, most likely along the lines of, ‘Shut up’ or ‘Go away’ but Brendon stays, standing to the side to watch his friend cook.
A little while later Jon’s standing in front of the pot with a large grin spread on his face. Brendon comes up behind him staring into the pot, when he catches a glimpse of the containments his face wrinkles, “What is that?”
Jon rolls his eyes immaturely toward Brendon, “It’s vegetarian stew, Grammy used to make it back in Chicago.”
“Oh,” Brendon say’s, ending the subject. He knew that was a tough subject for Jon, “Look’s good.”
Jon scuffs at Brendon’s fib before making plates for the two.
They sit on the tan loveseat in front of the television watching the news while eating dinner. Blacky, one out of three of Jon’s cats, rubs against Brendon’s leg, sniffing at his stew. He holds back a disgusted snarl and pushes the cat toward Jon.
“Was it necessary to bring these vermin’s home?”
Jon shakes his head at his friend, “They’re only cats Brendon, all they want is attention.”
Brendon watches as the animal stretches and claws at the cat before pushing him of the couch completely, “And they want my food, and to ruin my couch.”
“I think you need to get laid,” Is Jon’s only response.
Brendon hums, “How’s it going with Spencer?”
It doesn’t take long for Jon to answer with an irritable ‘fine’ and an awkward silence to follow.
Brendon sighs, “I don’t think he likes my glasses…”
Jon looks up and Brendon gloomily stating, “There’s not much that Spencer likes,” and walks off.
The next morning Jon is awoken by his newest kitten, Daisy, who claws at his chest and presses her face onto his bare skin. She purrs and arches into his touch when he strokes her back, silently wishing she would leave him to rest. She doesn’t cooperate, though; instead she snuggles toward his face, rubbing her head on the crook of his shoulder. Jon groans, pushing lightly at the kitten. He mumbles incoherently something like, ‘Daisy, go away’. When she remains lying on his chest he huffs and sits straight up causing the little cat to fall onto the bed.
All the while Brendon’s unbeknownst presence is standing in Jon’s doorway smirking, “Cats, they’re great, wouldn’t you agree?”
Jon groans, shooting Brendon a glare before falling back onto his bed, “What do you want Brendon?”
His friend chuckles and steps into the room, “I’d like a million dollars, a pony, and maybe if I’m really lucky, prince charming. What I need is a ride to the mall before noon.”
“What you need is a real job, a car, and your own place.”
Trying his hardest not to role his eyes, Brendon argues, “I told you I’d pay rent once they hire me full time but if I don’t get a ride today they’ll never hire me!”
Jon reluctantly agrees to drive Brendon with little more fight. Of course, Brendon would have to make him breakfast as a thank you, there was always some sort of payment but perhaps homemade breakfast wasn’t the best.
By the time Jon comes into the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed, Brendon has set up two plates of burnt pancakes flooded in syrup and topped with whip cream and strawberry’s accompanied by chocolate milk. The roommates face drains in disgust when he takes a look at what the other had prepared, not to mention Brendon is fully aware Jon’s allergic to whip cream. A sheepish expression graced Brendon’s face when the other looked at him but Jon just rolled his eyes, dumping both plates into the garbage.
“You’re taking me out to lunch,” Jon demands, grabbing the keys and leaving with a timid Brendon following behind.
They settle with IHOP, even though Brendon threw a fit and refused to get out of the car, insisting they’d run into his ex-girlfriend, Audrey. Jon offered Brendon to give him the money and wait in the car until Jon’s meal was finished but Brendon declined quickly, realizing he’d have to eat brunch.
When Brendon finally drags himself inside, accompanying Jon they’re met by a waiter definitely not much older than 23.
“Welcome to IHOP, I’m Peter, anything I can start you off with?”
It isn’t hard for Jon to miss the seducing expression his friend is shooting Peter so he interrupts Brendon before he can speak, “Two chocolate milks, please.”
Peter nods and departs, leaving Jon to glare at his friend.
“What?” Brendon questions the other, mustering poise.
Jon shakes his head, “Do you have to chase after every human with two feet?”
Brendon sends him a quick glare again but it’s washed away when Peter comes back moments later. He slide’s the drinks down next to each costumer before asking for their order. Brendon frowns a little inside when Jon orders for the both of them, missing his perfect opportunity to speak with the man. He watches the waiter’s hips sway after he leaves the table coming to the conclusion that he may not be gay but he definitely likes men.
Jon had ordered them what was originally planned, minus the wipe cream for him of course and when the check is placed on the table Brendon makes a snap at it after Peter leaves.
“Brendon, what are you doing?” Jon asks as Brendon scribbles his number on the bill with a poorly drawn heart and his name then slips in a twenty dollar bill. He smiles at his friend and makes his way to find Peter before Jon joins behind.
When Brendon sees Peter near the front of the restaurant his smile doesn’t falter, he holds out the check book towards the waiter who accepts it with a small smile back and gives a flirty wave. Jon rolls his eyes at his friend’s behavior, which he’s been doing a lot of lately, and pushes Brendon towards the doors.
“Do you need a ride home, after? I’m taking Spencer out to dinner so I could drop you off before,” Jon asks before Brendon exit’s the Lexus.
“No thanks, bro. Have fun on your date,” He replies adding a wink.
In return Jon speeds off, leaving Brendon in his dust.
To say the mall’s big is an understatement; it took close to twenty minutes for Brendon to figure out where the event was being held. When he enters he spots Spencer sitting beside Sarah. The room is definitely crowded he realizes while trying to maneuver over to his seat. When he reaches the pair Spencer speaks, “I’m going to cut you some slack, seeing as you’ve never done this before but it’s definitely important to get here early. It may be boring but good seats are very important.”
Brendon nods and mumbles an apology before sitting next to Sarah.
“We’re going to need you to take pictures today,” Sarah directs him and hands him a Canon Powershot, “You know how to use this, right?”
He looks over the camera, there are plenty of options but it shouldn’t be hard to get used to so he nods, “I might need to take a few test photos first, though.” She nods understanding.
The show was long and in Brendon’s opinion the bags didn’t stand out much from the outfits, simply blending into the background but it wasn’t his place to say, yet.
Spencer gives Sarah a deadline for her article and thanks Brendon for the assistance.
The intern smiles and comments, “Have fun with tonight.” Spencer just laughs.
The weathers nice, not too hot for summer, and Brendon’s grateful he doesn’t have to walk two miles in the scorching weather.
“Is everything all right, Brendon?” Spencer Smith, the owner’s son inquires to which Brendon gives a small nod.
“Everything’s fine, sir.”
He flashes Brendon a flawless smile and pats his shoulder before departing to his office.
When Brendon’s positive the boss is out of hearing rang he picks the phone up again, fiercely dialing the printing company’s number. The call doesn’t go through, instead beeps signal that the line is busy. He hangs up, slamming the phone down and lets out a sound that could resemble a strangled owl.
Sarah, the top editor-in-chief, looks at him with sympathy, “Anything I can help with?”
“Can you stop 800 Prada brochures for being printed by noon?”
She grins at the younger man confidently, putting her current product aside, “I’m Sarah Orzechowski, of course I can.”
It’s a half an hour drive to NLP with traffic and could have possibly been the scariest moment of Brendon’s life; never again would he willingly get in a car with this woman, for a pretty sweet girl she has a colorful array of vocabulary and killer heals that could break through the gas pedal.
“Sir, sir!” Sarah shouts at a worker carrying a large stack of paper when the pair enters the warehouse, he stops, giving her a bizarre look and waits for her to continue, “Where would I be able to find the manager?”
The worker nudges his head to their left and continues in the opposite way. Sarah smiles at Brendon again but on the other hand she’s always smiling, “Watch and learn, kid.”
He observes her posture straighten as she barges into the office without announcement, “Sarah Orzechowski, editor-in-chief of VEIN Magazine. We seem to have a mistake with the prints for the handbags; I need 800 Armani brochures by four o’clock.”
The manager looks up from his paperwork with no emotion, “I’m afraid that’s not possible miss, your prints have already started. If you’d like we can print the Armani, also but you would have to buy both and your order would not be ready in time.”
She looks bewildered and huffs, “Either you cancel the prints now and start the Armani brochures or we take our business elsewhere and let’s be honest,” She pauses and pointedly looks around, “You can’t afford that.”
The Armani brochures reach Spencer’s desk by quarter to four thanks to Sarah and needless to say he’s pleased. Spencer approaches Brendon’s desk a few minutes later, “These are great Brendon, thanks for the help.” Before Brendon gets the chance to reply Spencer has continued, “You’re not going to be wearing those glasses to the show tomorrow, are you?”
Brendon makes a face and self-consciously pushing his fire engine red glasses to his face, “Is there something wrong with them?”
“Oh… No, of course not,” Spencer replies almost remorsefully, “Be there by noon.”
A little later, when Brendon arrives home Jon is already there, in the kitchen. Brendon can hear him clashing pans and swearing to himself from across the apartment. He chuckles softly and travels over to help his friend.
In the kitchen there are pans and what-not piled in the sink and a stiff man stirring something at the stove.
“Jon, what are you doing?” Brendon questions the man in charge.
There’s a muffled response, most likely along the lines of, ‘Shut up’ or ‘Go away’ but Brendon stays, standing to the side to watch his friend cook.
A little while later Jon’s standing in front of the pot with a large grin spread on his face. Brendon comes up behind him staring into the pot, when he catches a glimpse of the containments his face wrinkles, “What is that?”
Jon rolls his eyes immaturely toward Brendon, “It’s vegetarian stew, Grammy used to make it back in Chicago.”
“Oh,” Brendon say’s, ending the subject. He knew that was a tough subject for Jon, “Look’s good.”
Jon scuffs at Brendon’s fib before making plates for the two.
They sit on the tan loveseat in front of the television watching the news while eating dinner. Blacky, one out of three of Jon’s cats, rubs against Brendon’s leg, sniffing at his stew. He holds back a disgusted snarl and pushes the cat toward Jon.
“Was it necessary to bring these vermin’s home?”
Jon shakes his head at his friend, “They’re only cats Brendon, all they want is attention.”
Brendon watches as the animal stretches and claws at the cat before pushing him of the couch completely, “And they want my food, and to ruin my couch.”
“I think you need to get laid,” Is Jon’s only response.
Brendon hums, “How’s it going with Spencer?”
It doesn’t take long for Jon to answer with an irritable ‘fine’ and an awkward silence to follow.
Brendon sighs, “I don’t think he likes my glasses…”
Jon looks up and Brendon gloomily stating, “There’s not much that Spencer likes,” and walks off.
The next morning Jon is awoken by his newest kitten, Daisy, who claws at his chest and presses her face onto his bare skin. She purrs and arches into his touch when he strokes her back, silently wishing she would leave him to rest. She doesn’t cooperate, though; instead she snuggles toward his face, rubbing her head on the crook of his shoulder. Jon groans, pushing lightly at the kitten. He mumbles incoherently something like, ‘Daisy, go away’. When she remains lying on his chest he huffs and sits straight up causing the little cat to fall onto the bed.
All the while Brendon’s unbeknownst presence is standing in Jon’s doorway smirking, “Cats, they’re great, wouldn’t you agree?”
Jon groans, shooting Brendon a glare before falling back onto his bed, “What do you want Brendon?”
His friend chuckles and steps into the room, “I’d like a million dollars, a pony, and maybe if I’m really lucky, prince charming. What I need is a ride to the mall before noon.”
“What you need is a real job, a car, and your own place.”
Trying his hardest not to role his eyes, Brendon argues, “I told you I’d pay rent once they hire me full time but if I don’t get a ride today they’ll never hire me!”
Jon reluctantly agrees to drive Brendon with little more fight. Of course, Brendon would have to make him breakfast as a thank you, there was always some sort of payment but perhaps homemade breakfast wasn’t the best.
By the time Jon comes into the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed, Brendon has set up two plates of burnt pancakes flooded in syrup and topped with whip cream and strawberry’s accompanied by chocolate milk. The roommates face drains in disgust when he takes a look at what the other had prepared, not to mention Brendon is fully aware Jon’s allergic to whip cream. A sheepish expression graced Brendon’s face when the other looked at him but Jon just rolled his eyes, dumping both plates into the garbage.
“You’re taking me out to lunch,” Jon demands, grabbing the keys and leaving with a timid Brendon following behind.
They settle with IHOP, even though Brendon threw a fit and refused to get out of the car, insisting they’d run into his ex-girlfriend, Audrey. Jon offered Brendon to give him the money and wait in the car until Jon’s meal was finished but Brendon declined quickly, realizing he’d have to eat brunch.
When Brendon finally drags himself inside, accompanying Jon they’re met by a waiter definitely not much older than 23.
“Welcome to IHOP, I’m Peter, anything I can start you off with?”
It isn’t hard for Jon to miss the seducing expression his friend is shooting Peter so he interrupts Brendon before he can speak, “Two chocolate milks, please.”
Peter nods and departs, leaving Jon to glare at his friend.
“What?” Brendon questions the other, mustering poise.
Jon shakes his head, “Do you have to chase after every human with two feet?”
Brendon sends him a quick glare again but it’s washed away when Peter comes back moments later. He slide’s the drinks down next to each costumer before asking for their order. Brendon frowns a little inside when Jon orders for the both of them, missing his perfect opportunity to speak with the man. He watches the waiter’s hips sway after he leaves the table coming to the conclusion that he may not be gay but he definitely likes men.
Jon had ordered them what was originally planned, minus the wipe cream for him of course and when the check is placed on the table Brendon makes a snap at it after Peter leaves.
“Brendon, what are you doing?” Jon asks as Brendon scribbles his number on the bill with a poorly drawn heart and his name then slips in a twenty dollar bill. He smiles at his friend and makes his way to find Peter before Jon joins behind.
When Brendon sees Peter near the front of the restaurant his smile doesn’t falter, he holds out the check book towards the waiter who accepts it with a small smile back and gives a flirty wave. Jon rolls his eyes at his friend’s behavior, which he’s been doing a lot of lately, and pushes Brendon towards the doors.
“Do you need a ride home, after? I’m taking Spencer out to dinner so I could drop you off before,” Jon asks before Brendon exit’s the Lexus.
“No thanks, bro. Have fun on your date,” He replies adding a wink.
In return Jon speeds off, leaving Brendon in his dust.
To say the mall’s big is an understatement; it took close to twenty minutes for Brendon to figure out where the event was being held. When he enters he spots Spencer sitting beside Sarah. The room is definitely crowded he realizes while trying to maneuver over to his seat. When he reaches the pair Spencer speaks, “I’m going to cut you some slack, seeing as you’ve never done this before but it’s definitely important to get here early. It may be boring but good seats are very important.”
Brendon nods and mumbles an apology before sitting next to Sarah.
“We’re going to need you to take pictures today,” Sarah directs him and hands him a Canon Powershot, “You know how to use this, right?”
He looks over the camera, there are plenty of options but it shouldn’t be hard to get used to so he nods, “I might need to take a few test photos first, though.” She nods understanding.
The show was long and in Brendon’s opinion the bags didn’t stand out much from the outfits, simply blending into the background but it wasn’t his place to say, yet.
Spencer gives Sarah a deadline for her article and thanks Brendon for the assistance.
The intern smiles and comments, “Have fun with tonight.” Spencer just laughs.
The weathers nice, not too hot for summer, and Brendon’s grateful he doesn’t have to walk two miles in the scorching weather.