[color=f7941d][h2] [centre] Victor Henson [/centre] [/h2]
[h3] [centre] Friday Night >>> outside of the Flour Meadough Bakery [/centre] [/h3][/color]


  Distant rolling thunder and the sounds of heavy rain on a tin roof filled the smaller bedroom. A twin bed pushed up against the far corner with a few dressers and a closet with wooden doors lined the far wall. The room was kept neat synthetic hard wood floors and sky blue painted walls with a few old pictures dotted around where the only things that decorated the room. Other than the sounds of a storm being projected from a nearby speaker, the only other thing that stirred in the dimly lit room was a man. A tall strong man that was putting on a black suit, with a white shirt, and red tie, something formal to wear for the evening events. This man had shortcut black hair and hazel eyes and was hiding a few tattoos underneath his suit and tan trench coat, while he secured his Pistol in its concealed place at his hip.

  The .40 caliber Glock 22 felt good at his side while he checked to make sure he had one spare magazine with it. Sure the man knew he wasn’t working tonight, after all he started up at the new place on Monday. Still, the man was feeling anxious, today was the day he planned to go to the address his mother gave him before she died. The address of someone who would know where his real father was. He had already driven there before but couldn't work up the nerve to go knock on the door, sometimes he hated being awkward or having social anxiety.

  So the man double-checked to make sure he had everything before turning off his speaker and sighing as the sounds of the city flooded back into the room. The company apartment wasn't that bad, a few blocks from the House of Lords put it within walking distance, and he just had a roommate was all. Speaking of roommate, his was lounging around in the living room watching some nature documentary. The tall man closed his door and headed for the front door.

  "[color=39b54a]Hey victor you going out to see the sights and smells of the fair? Maybe sample the local night-life?[/color]" the man on the couch called out to him without looking. This man was shorter than Victor, with red short hair and a subtle Irish accent. "[color=f7941d]Hey Will, yeah I'm going to go take care of some personal things first though[/color]" Will laughed and took another drink of his beer. "[color=39b54a]Well maybe I’ll see you out there then, I’ll be heading out in an hour or so.[/color]" Victor nodded and left, closing the door behind him. He liked Will they served together in Afghanistan, and he was the one to set them up with this company two years ago and came with him when he transferred here, a good lad.

  Victor took his time walking to the elevator and taking it down to the car garage at the bottom of the building, at least it wasn't too far of a drive to where he was going, but with traffic he planned ahead and got a cab that was waiting for him down below. There were a few other people up and around, dressed in nice suits and formal dresses. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits about this shindig the mayor was throwing, honestly he liked it too, helped him forget about where he was and what he was about to do as he climbed into the cab and gave the cabby the address.

  The drive to the address didn't take too long, and they had little trouble even with the events going on. The only issue they had on the way over was a white Rolls Royce Limo and its motor cade almost forced them off the road and effectively cut them off. His cabby kept his cool other than a few angry remarks towards them, Victor couldn't help but wonder if he would be working for some of those people later on. He honestly didn't like rich people too much, they were always tried to express how much better they were then him and never liked that he told them their money and power would have trouble stopping a bullet at point-blank range. That’s not to say he ever threatened them he just liked to point out hard truths that their money couldn't buy or stop everything.

  The cab finally slowed to a stop outside a small house that doubled as a bakery the small sign out front reading "Flour Meadough" a funny play on words sure, at least the people here had some humor. The cab pulled away after he was paid and Victor was left alone outside a closed Bakery and sighed, "[color=f7941d]Well let’s get this over with[/color]" he spoke to himself before stepping forward toward the front door of the bakery that had a small sign that said closed with working hours and a phone number imprinted on the glass window. For more than a moment he paused outside that door, his heart was beginning to race and his stomach hurt, but he pressed on and pounded on the door.

  Knock, knock, knock, he stepped back and looked around, [color=f7941d]“see Vic now no one will answer and you can go drink your sorrows away”[/color] he spoke to himself quietly. In his anxiety he rubbed his hands together then started to pick at the calluses on his hands before slowly stepping back and forth and checks his phone. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular and could easily check the time on his watch but decided to stick around for a few more minutes anyway, at least the neighborhood was quiet and nice. 

[@Poi]