Ryan didn't know what he was expecting when he applied at the local shelter. He wasn't qualified for much so maybe just walking the dogs, cleaning the lobby, what have you - and it started out as that, yeah, but things were getting a little too real. The other day, when they were short-staffed, he came to help [i]give vaccinations.[/i] Okay - just holding each dog that came through still and helping them calm down, but even then, it felt like a lot. Ryan figured if he didn't have a degree then he basically contributed about the same as a bulldozer passing through the veterinary offices. Alas, his supervisors trusted him way too much, and as such his responsibilities had increased drastically and all he thought about all day was what he'd be doing when he got to work. It was troubling when he was a senior in high scool and should probably be focusing on, say, getting every grade up to par with his English marks, but whatever. As busy as he became (and overwhelmed by the fact that he was actually doing important things, not just the whole food service worker/cashier deal half of his classmates got), Ryan loved animals, so. It was a pretty sweet gig.

And, four to nine, that gave him time away from home. He was sick of the extremes. Complete, deafening silence, or indiscernible crashing and distant swears at... the world, dad's boss, the couch for being in his way. There was always something. And no longer did he have to rely on maybe being able to sneak some cash from his dad's wallet for groceries, or new clothes, or gas. Ryan didn't make a [i]lot[/i], but he made enough to rescue his dwindling pride. Who knew - eventually he might be able to afford a place of his own... but maybe that was ambitious thinking after only a handful of months. He liked the job for now, knew it wasn't his career (Ryan had that all mapped out - he'd be making [i]music[/i] and no one could convince him otherwise) but if he was going to have it for a while, maybe that initial like would go away. People got stuck in deadend jobs for years, started being assholes because they were sick of it but needed the guaranteed pay. So help him if he ended up like that.

Anyway. He'd been tasked with grooming. It was hard to do something wrong there - and if there were qualifications he was supposed to meet, apparently he came closest out of everyone else around. Pretty simple, really. He knew how to shave, and evidently that translated into how to trim a dog's coat. Or do the 'trim everything but the head, tail, and paws' look some people asked for, leaving the poor animal to look like a goofy lion. And to think these were once predators. Anyway, after a couple of weeks he was getting the hang of it, coats looking shiny and blown out upon leaving, absolutely no weird dog smell to hear of. It was a weird accomplishment to brag about - which Ryan didn't, and he showered constantly lest he come to school evidencing the smell of a dog shelter, god forbid his group of friends call him out in the middle of a cafeteria for his silly part-time - but, seriously. This was all making him very excited for the day he could actually get his own job. 

The downside: he had to actually take the appointments at the front desk. Ryan was anything but happy to talk to clients, even if he'd mastered the 'customer service smile' and learned the classic politeness script. Hi, how are you, who's this with you, how can I help you... if all else fails, ask them about their dog, everyone loves to brag about how well-trained they are or show off their goofy name, whatever. Ryan was running through all of this when the next client came through the door - actually, he sort of recognised this kid, he was a year younger but in the same band course anyway. Some kind of advanced student in that respect. No offense, seeing how he behaved when there wasn't an instrument occupying his hands, he doubted he'd be advanced elsewhere. Anyway. Ryan kept his head down most of the time, not out of shyness or an unwillingness to participate, but at this point in senioritis he didn't wanna fucking [i]talk to anyone,[/i] so he didn't know his name right out. Brandon? Sounded about right, but not totally. Brandon-whatever was holding his Jack Russell terrier like a baby, close to his chest, and Ryan became a little worried that maybe he was hurt, couldn't walk or something. But the dog was wiggling around happily, clearly uninjured and just graced with an owner who spoiled him.

Ryan pushed all of his homework assignments aside and glanced over the line of appointments, finding a 'Brendon/Bogart grooming@11:30.' [i]Bren[/i]don. That's what it was. [b]"Hi,"[/b] Ryan said as Brendon got to the counter, Bogart still squirming enthusiastically in his arms, trying desperately to give him kisses. Ryan stared for a second, because usually dogs got this sense of dread about shelters, but apparently Brendon had avoided whatever trauma instilled that in them with his dog. Worked out well for Ryan. [b]"Right on time. If you have somewhere else to be, we can just take him to the back, and call you when he's ready."[/b] Ryan was moving out from behind the counter, gesturing Brendon along while he went down the hallway to their room with standing baths, shower heads galore. He tapped at one of the baths, retaining the friendly customer service smile. [b]"We start by cleaning with an all-natural tearless shampoo, then a cream rinse conditioner. After that we clean ears, nails, maybe brush out the coats. Sound alright? You're not one of those people that's, like, 'Fido needs a special oatmeal bath, only the best for [i]my[/i] dog,' right?"[/b] 

For a moment it was bizarre to be almost-bantering with a classmate he'd probably said three words to before. Actually, images of Brendon getting snapped at for being fidgety or awkwardly, unsubtly chatty popped into mind and he hoped he wasn't just stirring the pot, but then again this was all only when he wasn't otherwise being stimulated by the coursework. The guy seemed to genuinely pour his soul out into band. Still, not sure about other classes, but he was talented - and that was pretty much the extent of Ryan's knowledge on him. Years of keeping to himself really hadn't helped this first official conversation, if you counted it as one.