The first rays of dawn painted the sky with streaks of pink and orange, signaling the start of a new day. Kev, his internal clock now attuned to the club's rhythm, woke with a sense of purpose. He completed his usual morning rituals, a comforting routine that helped distract him from Fang's rejection the night before. Clasping his new watch around his wrist he stepped into the kitchen and soon the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air.
Yesterday's lesson with Horns had paid off in a big way. Kev had successfully navigated the stovetop and the makeshift filter, producing a steaming mug of dark, fragrant coffee. He settled at the small kitchen table, a book, 'A Brief History of Dala'Bon', propped open beside him, and lit a cigarette. The combination of caffeine, nicotine, and the quiet solitude of the morning was surprisingly satisfying.
He took a sip of his coffee, then turned his attention to the book, eager to delve deeper into the history of this world. The pages revealed a fascinating tapestry of four distinct continents, each inhabited by a different type of beastmen. There was a land of avian creatures, their feathers shimmering in the sunlight; a realm of mammals, their fur thick and luxurious; a continent teeming with reptiles, their scales glistening in the humid air; and finally, a land where all three species coexisted, their cultures and traditions intermingling in a vibrant tapestry of diversity.
Kev was just getting engrossed in the descriptions of ancient civilizations and epic battles when a knock at the door interrupted his reading. He reluctantly set the book aside and went to answer it.
"Morning, Kev," Horns mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He shuffled into the apartment, his massive frame drooping with exhaustion. With a weary sigh, he collapsed onto the couch, his usual perch.
"Rough night?" Kev asked sympathetically, offering Horns a cup of coffee.
Horns shook his head, a tired smile playing on his lips. "Just water, please," he requested. "I'm heading to bed soon."
Kev fetched a glass of water from the kitchen and handed it to Horns. "How did the night go?" he inquired, curious about what he might have missed while Fang showed him around the city.
"It was alright," Horns replied, taking a long sip of water. "No major incidents, thankfully. But the real magic was having Fang out and about for the first bit. It made a world of difference."
Kev nodded, remembering Fang's relaxed demeanor the night before, yet underneath all the interactions and introductions was the unspoken understanding that it was for the club, not a date. "He doesn't seem to know what to do with himself when he's not working," he observed.
Horns chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through the couch cushions. "That's the understatement of the century," he said. "The wolf's practically married to this club."
Kev lit a cigarette, offering one to Horns, who accepted with a grateful nod. As they smoked in companionable silence, Kev's thoughts drifted back to Fang.
"Has he ever had any serious relationships?" Kev asked. "I mean, in the past..."
Horns exhaled a cloud of smoke, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. "Not that I know of," he replied. "He's always been dedicated to the club, first and foremost. There have been flings, of course, but nothing long-term."
Kev nodded slowly, a pang of empathy stirring within him. "Maybe he's just... afraid of getting hurt," he mused, his gaze fixed on the swirling smoke. "Maybe he's covering up a broken heart."
Horns burst into laughter, a deep, booming sound that startled Kev. "Afraid of getting hurt?" he echoed, wiping a tear from his eye. "Fang? Please. That wolf attracts attention like a chest of cursed treasure, but he scares them off just as fast."
He took a long drag from his joint, exhaling slowly. "He's got a reputation, Kev. A reputation for being... demanding, controlling, a workaholic. Not exactly the ideal partner for most."
He paused, his gaze meeting Kev's. "But whatever you're doing, Kev, don't let up," he advised, his voice sincere. "You've got a good influence on him. He's more relaxed, more... tame, when you're around."
Kev sighed, a troubled expression on his face. "I feel guilty, though," he admitted. "I'm supposed to be helping him with work, but I haven't actually lifted a finger. I thought I'd be helping with the books, or making appointments for him, but it feels like I'm just... here to stand behind him."
Horns shrugged. "Is that so bad?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Your presence alone has prevented at least three major outbursts in the past day alone, I'd bet. That's got to count for something."
"I still want to be a more... quantifiable help," Kev insisted, a hint of frustration in his voice. "If I upset him, and I can't do anything else around here, he'll fire me."
Horns considered this, nodding slowly. "Yeah, that does suck," he admitted. "But I wouldn't worry too much about it, Kev. Unless you do something truly crazy, someone like Fang will forgive a few missteps. Especially if you're keeping him sane."
He leaned back, a reassuring smile on his face. "And if he tries to fire you over something petty, I'll have to remind him of all the bat-shit crazy stuff he's done over the years. Trust me, he owes me a few favors."
Horns, having finished his joint and water, heaved himself up from the couch with a groan. "Well, I'm off to bed," he announced, stretching his arms above his head, nearly scraping the tall ceiling. "Anything you need before I go?"
Kev thought for a moment, then remembered the expertly styled hair from the previous night. "Actually, could you bring me some hair gel?" he asked, a sheepish grin on his face. "I'd like to try recreating that look Valen gave me."
Horns chuckled. "No problem, Kev," he replied, even when tired his voice boomed. "I'll see what I can find."
As he headed towards the door, he paused and turned back to Kev. "Oh, and your new clothes should be arriving at some point," he added. "Marybelle said she'd send them over as soon as they're finished."
Kev's face lit up with excitement. "That's great news!" he exclaimed. "Thanks, Horns."
"You're welcome, Kev," Horns replied with a warm smile. "I'll see you around opening time."
Kev waved goodbye as Horns closed the door behind him. He couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the mooseman's kindness and support. With the usual morning rituals complete he picked up his guitar and began to strum a few chords. The familiar melodies flowed through his fingertips, a comforting connection to his past life. He lost himself in the music, his worries and anxieties fading away as he focused on the rhythm and the feel of the instrument in his hands.
After a while, he decided to take a break and head outside for a smoke. The afternoon sun bathed the backyard in a warm glow, casting long shadows across the manicured lawn. Kev found a quiet spot near the pool and lit a cigarette, savoring the familiar ritual.
Still feeling restless and the time still well before lunch, he decided to explore a bit more of the mansion. He wandered through the maze of corridors, his footsteps echoing in the quiet halls. He stumbled upon a hidden door tucked away in a dimly lit corner. Curiosity piqued, he pushed it open, revealing a spacious garage.
The garage housed an eclectic collection of vehicles. There was the wide and comfortable black car from the previous night, its polished paint gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Beside it sat a vintage motorcycle, its engine polished to a mirror shine. A classic convertible, its top down and its leather seats inviting, occupied another corner. A few others were parked further down, the two large bay doors wide enough for the plethora of styles. All the vehicles shared a common theme: they were distinctly old-fashioned and painted black, a far cry from the futuristic hovercars and streamlined pods he'd seen in the city. It was yet another reminder of the club's unique blend of tradition and modernity.
Kev, his curiosity satisfied, returned to his apartment and prepared a simple lunch. The supplies Horns had gotten previously were already beginning to dwindle, an unfortunate consequence of not having a fridge. As he was washing up, a knock sounded at the door.
Kev wondered who it could be, it was far too early for Fang or Horns to be awake. He crossed the apartment and turned the knob, a wave of anticipation washing over him. Standing on the threshold was the same foxman cleaner who had led him to Asmodeus the day before.
"Delivery for you," the fox-man grunted, his voice gruff but not unkind. He thrust two large garment bags into Kev's arms, their weight surprising him.
"Thank you," Kev replied, a smile spreading across his face. As the fox-man turned to leave, Kev called out, "Wait!"
The fox paused and turned, a questioning look in his eyes.
"What's your name?" Kev asked, genuinely curious.
The fox-man seemed surprised by the question, but he answered nonetheless. "Max," he said, his voice a bit softer this time.
"I'm Kev," Kev introduced himself, extending a hand.
Max hesitated for a moment, then shook Kev's hand with a firm grip. "See ya around," he said with a nod, before disappearing down the hallway. His fluffy tail was the last thing Kev could see as he rounded the corner.
Kev closed the door and eagerly opened the garment bags. Inside, he found an array of beautifully tailored suits, each one more exquisite than the last. Marybelle had clearly outdone herself, crafting a wardrobe fit for a king, or in this case, a personal assistant to a powerful nightclub owner. And in less than 24 hours… did she keep those tailors there all night?
Kev spent the next hour meticulously organizing his closet, carefully hanging each new suit and arranging the accessories Fang had chosen for him. He finally had a wardrobe worthy of his position, a collection of clothes that made him feel confident and empowered. As he admired his reflection in the mirror, a sense of satisfaction washed over him. He was no longer the out-of-place human in rumpled clothes; he was Fang's assistant, and he looked the part.
A thought nagged at him, however: how did laundry work in this world without electricity? He made a mental note to ask Horns or find Cindy later for clarification.
Checking his new watch, a gift from Fang, Kev realized it was only three o'clock. The club wouldn't open for hours, leaving him with another significant chunk of time to fill. He glanced around his apartment, a sigh escaping his lips. Despite the luxurious surroundings and the newfound sense of purpose, he couldn't shake the feeling of isolation. He missed his friends, his family, the familiar rhythms of his old life.
He wandered over to the window, gazing out at the sprawling backyard. The sun was shining brightly, casting dappled shadows on the manicured lawn. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers. It was a beautiful day, but Kev felt a pang of despair. He longed for companionship, for someone to share this new world with.
He turned away from the window, his gaze falling on the stack of books Horns had brought him. Perhaps they held the key to understanding this strange new reality, to finding his place in it. Or maybe they could simply offer a temporary escape, a chance to lose himself in the pages of a story and forget his worries for a while.
With a sigh, Kev picked up one of the books and settled onto the couch. It was once again time to start exploring the world of Dala'Bon, one page at a time.