𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲!

Chapter 2

tw: guns (not fired just used as intimidation) gonna add the warning anyway

The next morning was grey and desolate. It was drizzling just enough to wet your clothes and your face, but not enough to be immediately obvious when looking outside. The bell to the coffee shop chimed and Remus shook his head without looking up from the countertop he was wiping down.

"James, good morning," he looked up and saw James standing in front of him and froze for a moment. "Okay, what is this? What does this mean?" Remus gestured to James' perfectly tailored suit. He felt as if he'd been transported back to six months ago.

James fiddled nervously with the cuff links on his sleeves. "I have a job interview this morning," he explained, feeling his heartbeat pick up at the prospect. "I could really use some coffee to calm the nerves."

"An interview? That's great James," Remus gave him a genuine smile before turning around to make his drink. "Where is it? What's the job for?"

"Uh, I'm not sure," James answered honestly feeling a little sheepish.

Remus tossed him a disbelieving look over his shoulder and frowned slightly.

"I answered that flyer that was put up yesterday and they're being very... secretive about the whole thing. The address they gave for the interview is a bit far out too. I tried to look it up but it was more of a warehouse than a legitimate business." James glanced at the flyer board and saw that two other numbers had been taken from the ad.

"Oh my God James you cannot be serious. They're going to kill you. You're going to get murdered and wind up on some true-crime podcast," Remus scoffed. "And serves you right! For just showing up to a warehouse based on an anonymous coffee shop ad! You can't go."

"I am going though. I had a pre-interview yesterday over the phone and I passed it-"

"-you can't pass an interview," Remus interrupted flatly.

"-I think you can. Because I did. Anyway. I know it seems sketchy but I feel like I have to go. Something is telling me this is what I've been waiting for."

"You need to call me when you get there and when you leave. If I don't hear from you in three hours I'm sending the police after you," Remus sighed, knowing it was virtually impossible to change James' mind once it was set on something. He placed his coffee down on the counter. "This one's on the house. For good luck. Plus it might be the last coffee you ever drink so I figure I might as well give it to you."

James grinned before grabbing the warm cup. "Thank you, Remus. If I die, bury me in this suit okay?"

"Text me as soon as you get there, I mean it," Remus called after him sternly as James made his way to his car.

Driving was not one of James' strongest suits. He could drive if he really needed to, but he preferred walking and was often known to laud the joys of public transportation, and not because he didn't know how to parallel park.

He put the address into the GPS and cursed slightly to himself as he drove through towns and winding roads, sipping on his coffee which was getting colder by the minute. He drove in silence that morning because he was nervous and rehearsed his answers to typical interview questions in his head. He conjured up images of what Regulus looked like, each one not doing justice to the voice on the other end of the phone line.

When he finally arrived at the address he was given, he parked on the dirt road and sat there for a moment. For the first time since answering that ad, James had a terrible suspicion that this had been an elaborate prank. James loved pranks but only when he was the one pulling them off, not so much when he was on the receiving end of them.