Chapter 3 - Job

My most important job is being a 'Cleaner'. That sounds quite simple if you don't think about it too hard but … it really isn't.

This has to be one of the most complicated jobs I ever had to hold onto but it pays really, really well so I can't complain too much about it.

"Are you ready?" I asked, turning to Rumant who was busy dozing off on the bed.

"Hey," I walked to the boy and sat behind him, pulling him in between my legs as I started to brush his cherry-coloured hair, "don't go falling asleep on me now."

"It's too early." He mumbled while I reached on the bedside table for a hair tie that I could use to put his long hair up. "Zion~. I wanna sleep still."

"I know, sweetie. I know." I said, chuckling as I finally found the hair tie I was looking for. "But you know that we have to do this."

Placing the hair tie in between my teeth, I got to work at braiding the boy's hair first and then tying it.

"But this work sucks balls." He continued complaining. "We have to do all the dirty work and are not even acknowledged by the people we are helping.

"Do they even know how much work goes into cleaning up after them? To make sure they are not caught?

"We work too hard to be treated like this."

I watched with amusement as his legs kicked the covers in pure annoyance, complaining still while I finally tied the ends of his hair.

"I'm sorry," I said, taking his hands in mine and planting a kiss on his colourfully painted nails. "It must suck being stuck with me with this pathetic job. Sorry."

He stared at me, a blush creeping up his face as he quickly pulled his hands from me. "L-like I care about that. Besides, I was the one that approached you in the first place. I knew what I was getting into."

He jumped from the bed and walked to the full-boy mirror, checking his reflection in boxers and a bare chest. He seemed satisfied with my work on his hair because he isn't complaining about it.

Thank goodness. The first time he told me to do his hair … well, let's just say that his hair looked more like a bird's nest than an actual bird's nest.

He did not talk to me for a good couple of days after that. Everyone in school was so happy as they thought we broke up but … it was far from that.

I learned how to do different hairstyles within that week after he sent me to learn how to, from a hairstylist he knew. It was hard but I guess it was worth it, to be able to do this hair.

He is very picky with who can or cannot touch his hair, I am proud to say that I am one of the few two that can touch it. The first one being the hairdresser he sent me to.

"Zion, what do you think?" His voice suddenly pulled me out of my thoughts and I turned to see him holding up two sets of hair clips. "I don't know which one to wear."

"What dress are you wearing today?" I asked, getting off the messy bed. "You can pair it with that."

"Oh yeah." He beamed, walking to the closet. "How could I forget about that? By the way, what time do we have to leave?"

Looking at the clock as I was folding the blankets, I said, "In thirty minutes. You might need to speed up."

"But thirty minutes it too soon! I won't be able to get ready in time." He panicked, looking at me pleadingly. "What do I do, Zion?"

"I can help you choose," I said, patting the covers down and rearranging the pillows. "Would you like that?"

"Fine, just for tonight." He said, giving up the moment he looked at the clock on the wall ticking away. Rumant handed me one of the clips, with stars on them. "Make it match with this."

"Alright." I chuckled watching him rush to the bathroom. He always needed more time than me to get ready and it is not because he needs to choose his dresses.

You see, in his position, he needs to prepare mentally and physically. There can be no room for mistakes or half-assing anything.

One mistake could mean the end for us. Better to avoid all the mistakes we can, so as not to draw attention to ourselves.

I looked through the numerous dresses, looking at the clip and the dress before putting it back again, shaking my head. He will not be satisfied with this.

Oh yes, we both work as partners in this job. That was one of the reasons why we even started 'dating' in the first place. Well, partners may be a bit of a stretch.

I am almost like a pet for Rumant. Listening to his whims, tantrums and even unreasonableness. But he does listen to me … sometimes, so it is not all that bad. I think.

My hand landed on a black and blue galaxy Lolita dress that seemed to match perfectly with the hairpin and I immediately felt proud of myself before doubt crept in.

Will he like it though? He is very … particular about his clothes. Oh well, we are running out of time. Let's see if he likes it or not.

I first picked out the shoes and other accessories, laying them on the bed for him. Walking to the bathroom, I peeked in, "Are you done, Ru?"

"What do you think?" He asked, green eyes a deep shade of purple now as blood dripped from his open mouth to the sink. "Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?! Are you here only to disturb me?"

He threw a cup at me. I saw it coming but I didn't dodge it. Why would I? If this helps him to calm down, I will allow him to hit me all he wants.

"Get out!" He shouted and I was out the door, sighing.

I shouldn't have peeked in like that, not when I knew just how much pain he has to go through every night before we go for our job.

Sitting on the bed, I touched the dress laying there, smoothing the creases as best as I could.

If I could take half of his pain, or even all, I would have done it in a heartbeat. But this is something he has to feel before we go out.

We cannot cut any corners.

So I sit here, in the dark room, waiting for my lover to come out of the bathroom after he ingests fifty pills at the same time. The side effects require him to bleed out and that annoys him the most.

I need to be understanding of his situation. I am not the one in it. But I can try.

After what felt like a hundred days, Rumant finally walked out of the bathroom, wiping his face with a towel.

Instantly I got to my feet, "How are you feeling? Well? Do you n-"

He held up his hand to silence me, "I am fine. This is not the first time I did this and I don't think it will be the last. Not as long as we are in this line of work."

"You aren't wrong," I answered, chuckling in nervousness as I watched him look over the dress I picked, holding it up. "What do you think?"

He looked at the dress and then at me and then the dress again and then me, "Not bad. It seems you are improving in your tastes. Good job."

I breathed a sigh of relief. It's good enough for him to wear tonight. I better help him get ready.

______________________

"There you both are!" A man that looks about his early fifties said, walking to us with a wide grin. "Yale. You look lovely today."

She didn't bother to answer him and just opened her fan to cover her face.

"Cold as ever." He laughed, turning to me. "I see you are in uniform. It fits you well, kid."

"Thank you sir," I said, not meaning a word but one of us has to be the polite one and it certainly isn't going to be her. "The job description for tonight … Is it just us?"

"You two are some of the best Cleaners we have. This is important. One mistake and the entire city could blow up." The man said, pointing to a hole on the ground. "I am sure you know what you are supposed to do."

"Why not call in more people?" I tried to ask. Yes, while we are good, we are very, very disposable.

So, this mission being just the two of us, one if you count us as a team, means that this is a mission where they called us as bait and will kill us if we fail to finish the job properly.

Just us two holding the responsibility and consequence with no glory. This really is a nasty job.