THIS STORY IS COPYRIGHT © 2021-2022 BY D. K. DANIELS. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DISTRIBUTION FOR COMMERCIAL GAIN, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO, POSTING ON SITES OR NEWSGROUPS, DISTRIBUTION AS PARTS OR IN BOOK FORM (EITHER AS A WHOLE OR PART OF A COMPILATION) WITH OR WITHOUT A FEE, OR DISTRIBUTION ON CD, DVD, OR ANY OTHER ELECTRONIC MEDIA WITH OR WITHOUT A FEE, IS EXPRESSLY PROHIBITED WITHOUT THE AUTHOR'S WRITTEN CONSENT. YOU MAY DOWNLOAD ONE (1) COPY OF THIS STORY FOR PERSONAL USE; ANY AND ALL COMMERCIAL USE EXCEPTING EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS REQUIRES THE AUTHOR'S WRITTEN CONSENT.
THE AUTHOR MAY BE CONTACTED FOR PERMISSIONS OR FEEDBACK AT: danny2017writing@outlook.com
(This is the first draft; expect some problems)
I have written many adventure books with LGBTQ+ characters. Visit my website to browse my full bibliography. You can also sign up for my mailing list to ensure you don't miss any fun future updates. The Boy From Summer has just released... grab yourself a copy from Amazon.
***
Day 11.
Work today was actually okay. I got to meet a few more of the floor staff as they put it. When I first arrived, people didn't really notice me, but now folks are warming up and talking to me. Amy has that homely feeling about her; she makes me miss my mom, but I should steer clear of that prospect. I got word back that my store outfit has been sent away for, so I presume that means I am staying. Nobody really annoyed me today, I just got to stock shelves, and that suited me. I was able to look busy whenever somebody came along but secretly stand around most of the day. Just, I figured after lunch, I'd better get the shelves stocked to say I actually did something. I’ve been organizing the kitchen utensil's area since I started here, and it is a little monotonous, but I supposed there could be worse places.
At the end of lunch, I choose to walk the store to get my bearings. After what happened with that cute boy yesterday, I figured getting to know the layout wasn't a bad idea. Now I know where a few bits are around the department store, plus, Organico sells cologne. Long story short, I stayed longer than I intended, and Amy had to come to look for me. The fragrances were just so beautiful to not try out every single one of them, and I’ll admit that maybe I smelt like a walking candy factory.
So, this morning I lugged everything I own from the hostel, so I didn't have to pay for a second night, and well, after work, I had to drag all my shit 6-7 blocks. Safe to safe, I sweat like a priest in a playground. My arm was dead, and for a first… not from wanking. I got the bus to Gorthmore, got off, and walking the remainder of the street to Doug's apartment. When I rang the doorbell, the guy let me straight in, helped me with some of my crap, leading me to the bedroom.
I said, "I don't have the deposit yet; I'm waiting for my job to pay me."
“Right, and how long will that take?” Doug asked.
"About a week, I think…" I announced.
“Well, pay me when you get it,” Doug replied.
With that, he showed me some of the communal setups; and ran through some details. Like how the top section of the fridge is his, and the bottom is mine. What time he cooks dinner, and it would be convenient to be quiet after 11 PM. I agreed and was grateful for the help. Doug went back to the living room and started watching some TV, leaving me to roam around and get my surroundings. I retrieved a pot noodle from my backpack, boiled the kettle, and as I waited, I glanced at the pictures on the wall across from the cupboards. The arrangement is tight; the room being a small rectangular space, and a galley kitchen with a cheap 2-seater IKEA table crammed into the wall. Above the dining area, there are pictures of kids and a woman. I glanced across the handful of photos; some photographs had a younger Doug. It made me wonder if he was a family man. It also made me curious as to why the apartment was empty if he had kids. When the kettle finished boiling, I poured some hot water and ate the noodles when they were ready.
Most of the evening, I've been taking my clothes out of the bags and putting them in the wardrobe. Well, what I have left of the clean clothes. The dirty laundry found its way to the washing machine. I can't wait to have some fresh laundry. I couldn't figure out how to use the device, so I asked for Doug's assistance, and he teased me about not knowing.
“I thought all kids know about this kind of stuff…” Dough said.
"Tech only…" I added.
Doug laughed, and he showed me how to operate the washing machine and then ran over the basics for the dryer. I’m writing this while I waiting for things to finish up in the dryer. The bedroom is nothing like my old room back at home; it feels enormous and maybe a little lonely. It's quiet, and it's nice to have a space I can call my own. I can't hear anything other than the TV in the living room when I leave the bedroom, and it makes me feel a little bit isolated. The view is just an alleyway, so not precisely wow material.
I've thought while I wait for my clothes to dry, how I'll be able to make the payment for Doug. He seems nice, and I reckon he'd let a few things slide, but I don't think he'd let you play him out to be a fool. I don't want to abuse that generosity, so I'll have to make money somehow. I found sports watch in my bag; I don't know how it got there. Plus, I'm not sure if it's cheap either. Though maybe I could pawn it off, see if I can get some money. I'll look for some pawn shops on my way to work tomorrow.
The dryer has just chimed, so I'm going to get my fresh clothes.
Talk soon,
Kyle
***
(This is the first draft; expect some problems)
I have written many adventure books with LGBTQ+ characters. Visit my website to browse my full bibliography. You can also sign up for my mailing list to ensure you don't miss any fun future updates. The Boy From Summer has just released... grab yourself a copy from Amazon.