Gold-Blooded Rivalry

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A/N: Hey everyone!! It's been a little while! I hope you enjoy this chapter, because I'm super excited as to where this story is going now. I have a pretty clear idea of where we're headed, so I can definitely have fun with the characters and backstories. See if you can spot the gods, as per usual! 

Make sure you comment, vote, follow, whatever you'd like! I love seeing your feedback on anything you like!

This chapter is dedicated to @elchiart on Instagram because of how extremely supportive and excited they've been for this chapter! I hope y'all enjoy!!

...

 Hayden

I continued to work after Seph left, still in a bit of shock that she had even found where I'd worked. She said she had been window-shopping, which was, of course, normal, but the fact that she'd stepped into my store? What the hell kind of coincidence was that?

I felt my ears growing hot as I remembered Seph's friend and Seph's expression—like she was trying to keep something hidden. I almost laughed remembering how flustered—and cute—she had been, grabbing at her friend's arm and the shopping bag. I shook my head and continued to fold some mussed clothes that had been placed on the front display.

Holding one of the shirts up, I frowned. Who had come up with this idea? I spread the shirt out on the table, looking at the cheesy, faded black-and-white photograph of Madonna printed onto the front. Honestly, was she even relevant anymore?

"Lisa, what's this?" I asked the girl passing by—the assistant to the manager (AKA me). Lisa frowned, squinting a little to peer at the design behind her gold-rimmed 70s-style glasses. I knew they were purely for style—she never wore contacts or regular glasses.

"Um, I think Ryan designed that one," she said, shrugging. She gave me a helpless look before bustling off with an armful of boxes. Her black, glossy box braids swung behind her as she set the boxes behind the cash register at the front of the store. I cast one last look at the shirt and wrinkled my nose before folding it and placing it on the display.

The designs were beginning to get weirder and weirder at The Underworld as it seemed that the people working under me started to run out of ideas. Although I was the manager of the store, I was actually the one who had officially opened it as a small vintage store years ago. I had started the business by buying and reselling cheap and expensive vintage items with part of the inheritance left to me by my parents, which led to me gaining an overall store aesthetic, and, eventually, I partnered with another company that would produce clothing I designed when I got enough money to do so. Now, our store had enough money to let a number of store employees become "designers" (or, in other words, they could make something and run it by me or Lisa, and then submit it to the production company). However, I guess I'd been out for so long that the approval process had been left to Lisa alone, and her chill nature probably let a lot of really mediocre designs get through the production process.

I shook my head and continued to fold the new clothes, smoothing out a pair of black-and-white striped jeans and dusting off a pair of black velvet oxfords. As I was shaking the wrinkles out of a white satin blouse with an embroidered collar, the bell chimed at the front of the store.

I lifted my gaze, half hopeful that it was Seph coming back to chat a little longer, but a familiar head of black, shiny hair instead greeted me.

"Hey, B," I said to the dapper young man who had just stepped through the door. B held a number of boxes stamped and marked with "FRAGILE" stickers and the black logo that read "THE UNDERWORLD." He had swapped his regular black delivery clothes for a pristine suit. "You're pretty dressed up, my man."

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