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[color=steelblue][b]LOCATION:[/b][/color] The Bennett Estate
[color=steelblue][b]INTERACTION:[/b][/color] Reiden (short collaboration) [@sakurasan], Troy (via text) [@Universorum], and Margaret [@Silent Observer]
[color=steelblue][b]TIME:[/b][/color] 6:00 AM - Midday

It was exactly six o’clock in the morning when the lively beats of Ricky Martin’s [i]Livin’ La Vida Loca[/i] pumped out of the iPhone dock on Clayton’s end table. Clay is a morning person, and he always has been, so he sat up quickly and stretched his arms above his head immediately upon waking. Clay shimmied up from the bed and danced in time with the rhythm for a moment before silencing the musical alarm. He padded barefoot through his bedroom and to the master bathroom, avoiding boxes along the way.

Having just moved into his Lakewood estate yesterday, the sprawling four bedroom home was currently in complete and utter disarray. Perhaps ‘moved into’ is too complete of a statement, Clay is very much still [i]moving[/i] into his new home. In fact, a truck was scheduled to arrive this morning with a second load of his belongings. Although his personal gym equipment had yet to arrive, Clayton wasn’t one to slack off, and had a morning routine of cardio planned before he would spend a grueling day unloading boxes and furniture.

Clayton took a quick rinse-off shower, mostly to shake away any remnants of sleep, as he was about to spend the whole day sweating. Once clean and dressed in a pair of black basketball shorts and a grey tank top, Clayton descended the stairs to fix up a carb and protein heavy pre-workout breakfast. On the menu this morning was whole grain toast with peanut butter, a sliced banana, and a strawberry greek yogurt. Clay set up his running playlist on his iPhone, which he then placed it in the armband holster that was snugly wrapped around his right bicep. He was in the process of pouring himself a glass of orange juice when he heard a quick succession of wraps at his front door.

Were the movers here already? Clay tapped at his Fitbit for the time. No, it was was only seven in the morning, to early for the moving company… which lead to a completely different question: Who on earth was knocking on his door at this hour? Not that it was too early for Clayton, but it was far too early for most people to be out and about on a weekend day. Regardless, Clayton made his way to the door with his glass of orange juice still in one hand. Being the social butterfly that he was, he didn’t even check the peephole before swinging the door open and warmly greeting the stranger with his signature stunner smile.

What a stranger he was too - the charming redhead with an adorable splash of freckles that stood before him. Clay’s smile widened and he held out the hand that wasn’t holding a glass of juice to shake the other man’s hand. [color=steelblue]”Good morning!”[/color] he greeted cheerfully [color=steelblue]”I’m Clayton Bennett, I just moved in yesterday. What can I do for you?”[/color] he asked, figuring there must be some reason for this gentleman’s unexpected visit.

Reiden was looking down at his watch for a moment before the door opened wide, revealing a tall chocolate man that was quite the looker, and most likely grabbed the attention of many when he walked by. He didn’t seem bad at all, the contrary in face. A nice man around… around the same age as him? Scenarios filled Reiden’s head, but he made sure to push them to the side, after all, he was right in front of him, and all Reiden had to do was respond.

A smile flashed before Reiden’s face as he took the man's hand and gave an enthusiastic and friendly shake before releasing his hand. [color=C98F1C]“Good morning! Ah, I’m just here to give you a little housewarming gift.”[/color] He gestured to the basket before continuing to speak. [color=C98F1C]“I do hope you were already up, since I know it’s pretty early in the morning to be visiting someone’s home, but the auction’s later and I didn’t want to forget later on due to preparation and…”[/color] Reiden trailed off and stopped his sentence, realizing he was talking a bit too much and forgetting to actually let the man speak. Of course, straight off the bat he was his fast talking, eccentric self. [color=C98F1C]“Yes, so, anyways, welcome to the neighborhood! My name’s Reiden, and it’s nice to meet your acquaintance, Clayton.”[/color] 

It is said that a man’s handshake is very much a reflection of himself. If such is true, than Reiden is one very energetic and enthusiastic man. Clayton’s eyes lit up at the gift basket presented to him. [color=steelblue]”Wow, you’re too kind. Thank you!”[/color] he said and took the basket from Reiden, leaving Clay without any free hands. Reiden spoke in fast run-on sentences, but he was friendly enough. Clay chuckled. [color=steelblue]”No, that’s quite alright. I’m an early bird, I was just prepping for a morning run, actually.”[/color] he said as both a fact and as an explanation for his rather fashionless outfit at the moment. [color=steelblue]”Good to meet you, Reiden. Now, what’s this auction that you mentioned?”[/color] Clayton asked curiously, having not yet fetched the day’s mail from the box, where the auction invitation still sat.

Reiden chuckled a bit nervously and scratched the back of his head with a smile. [i]Calm down. It’s not like you’ve never met someone new before. Just think of it as...a new student your class! Without them being a teenager and having to take lessons from you.[/i]  Reiden’s smile brightened when the man thanked him, taking the gift gratefully. [color=C98F1C]”Oh, of course! It was no problem.”[/color] He said, relieved that the man wasn’t bothered with his arrival at only seven in the morning.  [color=C98F1C]”Glad I didn’t wake you, then.”[/color] It wasn’t surprising to hear that he didn’t know about the auction. After all, he had just moved in.  [color=C98F1C]“The art auction? You’ll probably receive an invitation later today, if you haven’t already. It’s just an annual social event, really. Most, if not all of the folks from the neighborhood gather there once a year, and all of the money goes to the school, which is great. Arts program and such. A nice place to meet the people you’ll be seeing around a lot.”[/color]

[color=steelblue]”Really? An art auction? That sounds great! I’d love to meet some of the other locals, and maybe I can find a piece or two to fill this place. It’s looking rather drab and undecorated with all of these not unpacked boxes lying around.”[/color] Clayton said with a short laugh. [color=steelblue]”And more to come in about an hour, no rest for the wicked!”[/color] there was another warm smile that teetered on the borderline between friendly and flirtatious. [color=steelblue]”Will I see you later then, at the auction?”[/color] he was, of course, flirting in the discreet kind of way that he used to see if other men were [i]also[/i]  interested in men.

[color=C98F1C]”I’m sure you will! The auction almost always has me spending past the budget I set for myself.”[/color] He gives a lighthearted laugh and looks past Clayton into the home for a second, glancing at the boxes before he met his eyes again. Clayton was obviously a charismatic man. Reiden came to the conclusion that his job must involve a lot of social interactions. His flirting that most could have recognized practically flew past Reiden. He wasn’t an extremely oblivious man that couldn’t take a hint. He was just… rusty when it came to picking up these types of cues. [color=C98F1C]“Yes, in fact, you will! After all, the arts program is a good investment, and my bedroom walls were just feeling lonely with nothing to cover the hazel coat of paint. Either way, it was just great meeting you! I hope to see you later and now I’ll let you get back to your daily run.”[/color] 

Reiden got out of his way, a sweet smile that showed his white teeth was apparent before he waved and walked off. Was he his type? Since when was handsome and dreamy not someone’s type? But Reiden would rather not jump to conclusions before he actually considered anyone. He seemed like a kind man that would most likely fit in right away. A nice man to look at and admire from time to time but still be good friends with. Some people claimed to have a ‘gaydar’ or whatever, and if there was such a thing, Reiden wasn’t born equipped with one. To him, Clayton seemed as straight as an arrow. But God, those [i]eyes.[/i]

Clayton returned the wave as much as he could with the hand that held a now-empty glass before he pushed the front door closed with his hip. Clay sat the basket on the kitchen counter, grinned at it for a moment, and then began to clean up after his first breakfast. Clayton began his morning workout by stretching his muscles out in the front lawn. The California sun was already baking hot, all the more reason to run early in the morning. The jog took him meandering through the roads of Lakewood Summit. Clay saw the parks, the country club, elaborate gardens, ostentatious homes, and even a few friendly faces - the latter to which he returned a smile and quick wave in passing. It was good to start making connections early.

After about forty-five minutes of jogging, Clayton returned to his new home. He checked the mailbox and, lo and behold, in it sat the aforementioned invitation to the art auction. Clay shot a quick text message to his good friend and long time training buddy, Troy, asking if he would be attending this shindig. Whether or not he would attend made no real difference, Clay was going to make an appearance regardless, it would just be nice to see an old friend. After a few moments of not receiving a response, Clayton went about his business.

The moving company arrived at promptly eight thirty in the morning, just after Clay had finished eating his second breakfast of a vegetable packed omelette and thick cut bacon. Clayton remained in his workout clothes as he helped the crew heft boxes out of the truck. Some of the furniture and weight-lifting equipment was heavy and cumbersome, requiring extra special care to navigate through the house without damaging anything. Altogether, the process of unloading the truck took a few hours. The movers had left once the truck was empty and Clay had kindly waved them off, saying that he could take it from there.

Clay stood at the heart of a chaotic litter of boxes and rubbed the back of his shaved head. Exhaling in a long sigh, he thought about the incredible amount of work he had ahead of him. At least he had a reason to call it an early night and keep from working himself into the ground. Not long into his reorganizing of items and boxes into the appropriate rooms of the house, Clayton heard a sudden, pleasant, chiming ring throughout the house.

A… doorbell? Of course the house had a doorbell, and a really pretty sounding one that Clay had yet to hear, apparently. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with his arm in an attempt to look somewhat presentable, Clay headed down the stairs to answer the door. Once again not bothering to peek through the peephole, Clay opened the door to reveal an older lady with chin-length cornsilk blonde hair. She looked familiar, but Clayton couldn’t place why exactly.

[color=coral]”Oh, hello there! I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”[/color] she greeted with a well-practiced television smile, taking in the sight of the muscular black man covered in a glistening sheen of sweat. The thick, deeply southern accent, paired with the recognizable face, was all that it took for the familiarity to register in Clay’s mind. [i]Meals With Maggie[/i]. [color=coral]”I heard that we had a newcomer in The Summit, and I just love a good reason to make a sweet treat for a neighbor. I brought you a housewarming gift - a homemade sweet potato pie!”[/color] she said as she offered the dish to him.

[color=steelblue]”[i]The[/i] Margaret Williams made [i]me[/i] a pie, wow!”[/color] he said with more than a fair amount of enthusiasm. He wasn’t one to be starstruck, given his profession and his past experiences with celebrities, but this was a different. [color=steelblue]”Pleased to meet you, I’m Clayton Bennett. ‘Meals With Maggie’ was my favorite show on the Food Network growing up. Man, I sure do love to eat, too, this is great! Thank you so much!”[/color] he said before happily accepting the pie dish from her.

[color=coral]”Oh, it’s no trouble, darlin’. My love of baking was always more than just for show. That pie you’ll be eatin’ is the very same one that took first prize in the Alabama state fair for years runnin’, long before my days on the Food Network.”[/color] the woman chuckled in that breathy way that elderly ladies with a lifetime penchant for tobacco often do. [color=coral]”Now, now, I won’t be causin’ you any more trouble, you look quite busied with your move. Rightly so. I do hope you’ll find the time for the art auction tonight, though, a handsome young man like yourself is bound to be a real hit ‘round these parts. And it’s for a good cause!”[/color] Margaret chattered in closing.

[color=steelblue]”Yes, I will be there. I met Reiden earlier today, he gave me the brief rundown of the event. It sounds lovely. I’ll see you there, Mrs. Williams.”[/color] he replied.

Maggie smiled and nodded, [color=coral]”Good, good. And just plain ol’ Maggie is fine, dear. You have a nice, productive day, now Clayton.”[/color] With that, the retired celebrity was headed down the street towards her own home. She was dressed in a rather flamboyant floral sundress for a woman her age, but it fit her personality well enough. Clayton looked down at the pie in his hands, and it was hard to tell what was smiling more: his face or his stomach? The irony of an old, white, southern lady making a black man a sweet potato pie did not go completely over his head. He knew very well what the deep south thought about his people, especially being brown and gay, but Maggie seemed like a different sort. There was nothing but kind southern hospitality in her words and actions.
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