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Post by Lilith on Jan 14, 2015 23:36:28 GMT -6
A store front.
The name was carefully cut off showing only want he could see in the windows. 3 mannequins in the window, each male, each with a tuxedo. Each a different style being shown off with a splash of color... or the lack there of.
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Post by Cell on Jan 16, 2015 3:57:22 GMT -6
“You would have style…”
Cell said to himself through the fingers his head rested in. He was pouring over addresses of tuxedo stores in Las Vegas. Button pressed and a mouse clicked narrowed the parameters of the search, enough to match the picture with the prices listed. Three stores remained after the search finalized, each on a different corner of the center of the city. Easy enough to go to street view, and simply see the photo that was taken.
“One step ahead I suppose, sorry siren.”
A click of the mouse revealed…nothing. No street view reported on for the addresses in question.
“Well of course I mean why would they…”
Cell said as he sighed, copying the addresses to a document before printing them. Walking to his printer, Cell pulls his keys from his pocket. This temptress, would not make it easy on him. Whatever her purpose, this minx of raven was making him work for it. Taking his paper from the printer, Cell begins to stride towards his first crumb. What he hoped was the first step on the trek towards the song he can’t get out of his head. Walking towards the exit of the church, one of the members turns to Cell as he passes.
“What are you doing in such a hurry?”
“I think I’m shopping.”
That was all Cell could think of, as he realized this if it were true, this would be the first tuxedo he would have ever worn.
The first store was a train wreck, an explosion of color that nowhere resembled the hints of bright in the picture. Stopping in front of the store to scratch it off of his list, he heard a quick knock on his window. The owner of the store, a man flamboyant enough to make Damien look straight, had spotted Cell and assumed business was about to come in the store. Cell locks eyes with the man, who is smiling ear to ear. Shrugging his shoulders as he mouths the word ‘sorry’, Cell slowly pulls the car away from the man, accelerating just enough to put distance between the two.
The second store was a match in product only, as the entire store looked as if it were from the 1980’s. Cell stopped again to examine his list, taking care to not do so RIGHT in front of the door. Checking to see if he had attracted any company, Cell looked at the last address on his list. It was becoming more of a hope and less of a certainty that it would be there, but he had to try. The crumbs continued beyond this one step.
Pulling up to the last store, a wave of relief washes over Cell in an awesome wave. The mannequins, and colors matched as well as the building. Parking the car across the street and walking inside, Cell looks around before spotting an employee hanging up suit jackets across from him. The employee, whose name tag said Sarah, looked at Cell upon hearing the doorbell ring. Looking at him from head to toe, Sarah goes back to her stocking as though she just looked upon a peasent.
“Umm, I think I was supposed to come here?”
Sarah continued to stock the shelves as the manager fly from around the corner.
“OF COURSE! You must be Cell!”
The manager turns to Sarah.
“Go to the back, we need to work on your attitude.”
Turning back to Cell.
“I was supposed to…”
“Be fitted, yes we know. You are already in our books. Good timing too, most guys just wait till last minute.”
“I’m what for…what? How is it good timing?”
“Because sir…”
The manifest for his appointment is held in front of her face.
“It looks like you have a date approaching.”
Sure enough, there was a date for the appointment would have to be done by, as well the day the tuxedo would be used. Shaking his head while chuckling, Cell looks back at the manager.
“So do you want to get started?”
“I…sure. Why not.”
The two walks to the back, and into an octagonal shaped room covered with mirrors. In the center of the room stood a pedestal, for the fit-ees. can stand whilst the employees measure. Standing on the pedestal, Cell is poked and prodded until his correct size was said, leaving the room is more holes in his flesh then Bishop after a sin.
“So how much is getting it fitted and wearing it?”
“Apparently you know people because all we need is a down payment for insurance.”
Cell smiled as he wondered if that meant Pentecostal…or her.
“Alright then.”
Cell said as he paid and then accepted a piece of paper with the date, invoice and note left on it. The same seal from the earlier envelope upon it. Before Cell can read it, however, the manager pipes in.
“Oh that, that is just telling you to look at the other two…whatever that means.”
As if he had forgotten it, Cell remembered the other extra photos on the camera roll. A smile crept into his uneasy mind as he left the store, eager to see what and where they would lead him.
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