Freddie Baxter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thisfaceismine) wrote2016-07-11 08:01 pm
thisfaceismine) wrote2016-07-11 08:01 pm
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The taxis don't go very far.
That'd been nearly the first thing Freddie had learned in his short time here. He'd climbed into one early one morning, gave the driver a friendly tap on the shoulder and told him to just keep driving. And he had. For over an hour.
Even now, Freddie isn't entirely sure how many times he saw the exact same buildings over and over before realizing he wasn't going anywhere.
It's been three days -- two and a half, really -- and he's already spent a couple hundred quid of whatever some mysterious benefactor had left in the account in his name. Most of it had gone to clothing and a few groceries and the taxi from the other morning. Noah had explained that he'd get more every month, just deposited for no reason. He didn't even have to get a job!
It doesn't feel right. None of it.
But as Freddie wanders the boardwalk, the breeze off the water making a mess of his hair and the sea air stinging his nose, he can't deny that it doesn't feel like a bad gig. The flat he's been gifted is a quarter the size of the warehouse, but it came fully furnished so it's probably not a scam. His landlord at least doesn't seem like a gangster.
He has every reason to believe this place is just as fucked as he's been told but, for now, he's leaning against the railing, dressed in swim trunks and a loose white tank. It's summer here, he's learned, the air hot and sticky. There are dozens of people out and about, each of them clad in wonderfully revealing clothing. Freddie has his earbuds in, enjoying the view as he sucks on an obscenely large sugary drink he'd spent far too much money on, when his gaze catches on a pair of strikingly beautiful eyes.
Swallowing his sip, Freddie lifts his head, grinning his approval when those eyes finally land on him.
That'd been nearly the first thing Freddie had learned in his short time here. He'd climbed into one early one morning, gave the driver a friendly tap on the shoulder and told him to just keep driving. And he had. For over an hour.
Even now, Freddie isn't entirely sure how many times he saw the exact same buildings over and over before realizing he wasn't going anywhere.
It's been three days -- two and a half, really -- and he's already spent a couple hundred quid of whatever some mysterious benefactor had left in the account in his name. Most of it had gone to clothing and a few groceries and the taxi from the other morning. Noah had explained that he'd get more every month, just deposited for no reason. He didn't even have to get a job!
It doesn't feel right. None of it.
But as Freddie wanders the boardwalk, the breeze off the water making a mess of his hair and the sea air stinging his nose, he can't deny that it doesn't feel like a bad gig. The flat he's been gifted is a quarter the size of the warehouse, but it came fully furnished so it's probably not a scam. His landlord at least doesn't seem like a gangster.
He has every reason to believe this place is just as fucked as he's been told but, for now, he's leaning against the railing, dressed in swim trunks and a loose white tank. It's summer here, he's learned, the air hot and sticky. There are dozens of people out and about, each of them clad in wonderfully revealing clothing. Freddie has his earbuds in, enjoying the view as he sucks on an obscenely large sugary drink he'd spent far too much money on, when his gaze catches on a pair of strikingly beautiful eyes.
Swallowing his sip, Freddie lifts his head, grinning his approval when those eyes finally land on him.