Rainy Days (Dead Plate)

3

Rody left Vince's office with a quick nod. Once he was out of the room, he let out a heavy sigh. He started walking out of the kitchen, waving goodbye to the cooks in his way. He emerged from the heavy double-doors and quickly walked out of the bistro, stuffing the small piece of paper he'd been given into his pant pocket.

When he got outside, he noticed it was no longer raining, which was nice but it was still grey and wet out, which sucked.

He walked to his bike, which was tipped over now, with its handle half-submerged in the mud. He tipped it back up so it was on its wheels, then got on it and started pedaling.

It took him a solid 25 minutes to get back to his concerning apartment, and when he did, he changed into something a bit more comfortable then his 'uniform'. However, he did make sure he looked a bit proper. He knew Vincent's expectations. He wanted to meet them.

Once he was dressed and felt like Vince would approve of how he looked or whatever, he looked at the time and figured it wouldn't hurt to take a quick nap.

Rody stretched himself out on his couch and closed his eyes, his arms behind his head.

-

Everything was dark. Rody couldn't see a thing.

I... can't see... he thought. Why can't I see? He tried moving around, but his body was... stuck.

Can't... move...?

He tried to speak, but he just felt like he was suffocating. No sound came out, but he continued to try to speak anyway.

Help, he tried to say, only to start coughing uncontrollably when he was stabbed with a steak knife about four times his size.

-

Rody jolted awake, drenched in a cold sweat and breathing heavy.

He looked around and tried to move. He could. H let out a sigh of relief, then Vince popped into his head. He groaned.

I really should've asked what that whole thing is about, he thought as he stood up and stretched. He checked the time.

8:42PM

He let out a slight yelp. He had less than twenty minutes. He grabbed the paper Vince had given him earlier and looked at it.

That's only a few streets over. I can walk and still make it in time.

He put his shoes on and kept the paper in hand. He exited his apartment and looked at his bike, which sat against the wall.

I don't have time to drag that thing across this shitty gravel, he thought, walking past it.

He walked across the lot and began walking down the street, which was so empty at night that it seemed abandoned. He stared at the ground in front of him the whole time.

Eventually, he ended up bumping into somebody, and he looked up at them. "Oh! I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," he said, bowing his head down slightly in an awkward and apologetic manner.

"Clearly," the person said rudely before walking away. Rody watched for a few seconds as they walked away before shaking his head.

Focus, Rody, he thought, then kept walking.

He got there just in just over ten minutes, but Vince wasn't there like he said he'd be. Rody sighed. Something probably came up, he told himself.

He decided he'd have to wait a few minutes for Vince to arrive.

One...

He stood there, nervously and uncomfortably shuffling his feet.