[center][img=http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_md2e3jPtsG1riaeblo4_500.gif] Earth - Manhattan[/center] Practically drenched in rain by the time he made it from the cab to the construction site, Baeden hurried inside the small, temporary building where his boss and his boss’s boss spent most of their work days eating sandwiches and barking orders. Taking a moment to peel off his jacket and hanging it up, Baeden quickly hurried over to the crappy coffee machine that stayed on throughout the day to ensure that their workers remained alert and full of energy to complete the work day. He was just adding a couple spoonful’s of tasteless, powdered creamer before he felt a strong arm on his shoulder, followed by his boss’ voice. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you looked hung over.” Baeden tossed the plastic spoon into the trash can and turned to face his boss. August W. Booth, a man who acted years beyond his natural age with an academic degree in sucking up. He was hardly a year or two older than Baeden, a couple inches taller with a scraggly black beard hiding away his youthfulness, but carried himself in a way that made it easy for Baeden to relate to as an older brother or even a father no matter how hard he tried not to. It never helped August’s cause when the man went out of his way trying to spend time with Baeden, always wanting him to come out with him to the clubs on the weekends or catch a movie on premier night. Baeden knew what he was doing, of course. It wasn’t at all based around a friendship, that August insisted he wanted to strengthen between the two of them, but because he felt sorry for him. August just couldn’t wrap himself around the fact that Baeden [i]liked[/i] being alone; flying solo. “What’s the job today? Can’t do a whole lot of cement mixing when it’s raining cats and dogs.” Baeden replied, going out of his way to ignore August’s observation. The last thing he needed right now was a lecture on needing a wing man. He didn’t need one; he had done quite well last night on his own. “That’s actually what I want to talk to you about.” August replied taking his hand off of Baedens’s shoulder and scooted Baeden to the side to allow him access to the coffee machine and poured himself a cup. “And before you say anything, I’ve already talked to Marco about all this and he’s already approved it.” Baeden raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of the bitter beverage grateful at least the Styrofoam cup was doing [i]something[/i] for him by warming his numb fingers. Marco was August’s boss, the big man on site. He was the grand overseer to almost everything that went on in Baeden’s division, and Baeden couldn’t have asked to work for a more honest, hard-working man in his life. He was much more of a ‘behind-the-scenes’ guy, and each time Baeden had the opportunity to talk with him directly he was always halfway through a sandwich, but with how well the business was flourishing, Baeden could only assume that someone was doing their job right. Most people would think that a father-son construction company would fail within its first few years, and even though, in Baeden's opinion, August could be a complete moron that knew nothing about the business, Marco made up for it ten times over. “Oh? What’s the big boss gotta say now?” Baeden asked, turning back to the coffee station to add another spoon of sugar in hopes that it would make the drink more tolerable. It didn’t. August set down his own cup of coffee and reached into his leather jacket’s inside pocket and procured an envelope. Curious, Baeden kept the corner of his eye on it while adding another spoonful of sugar. “You know you work hard, I know you work hard, and Pop’s knows you work hard. So think of this as an early Christmas on us.” Defeated in curiosity, Baeden abandoned his cup of coffee and snatched the envelope from August, pulling out two fliers from within, both exactly the same with tickets stapled onto them. “Lake Taho?” Baeden asked looking over the flier before looking back to August. “You’re making me take a vacation?” “Well don’t sound too thrilled. Pops and I worked hard getting those tickets for you-“ “You won them gambling.” Baeden interrupted, gesturing towards the receipt that had been tucked away inside one of the fliers. August just smiled and put an arm around Baeden’s shoulder, opening up one of the fliers to a particular page and began pointing out a few things. “They’ve got snowboarding, skiing, five-star hotel rooms with room service and a Jacuzzi... C’mon, it will be fun! Paid time off to go snowboarding? I’d say your boss deserves a raise.” August split his lips into a wild grin, but Baeden didn’t seem amused. “There’s two tickets…” He observed, and August clapped him on the back before starting to walk away. “Well I’m not going to let you have [i]all[/i] the fun. Head on home Bae, get yourself packed up. I’ll stop by your place in two hours and we’ll head to the airport.” Stuffing the tickets back into the envelope, Baeden let out a defeated sigh. Truly, he’d rather spend the next few days playing with two-by-fours and nails but with the weather going on the way it was, it seemed to be a fruitless argument. Shaking his head slightly, he went back to the entrance and grabbed his coat, stuffing the envelope into his pocket before braving the pouring rain as he called for another cab to go back home.