Back home, before Ortega entered his flat, he knocked on Mr. Yugo's door. Nobody answered. He tried again, but the door remained barred. He'd ring the doorbell, but it was long broken.
He sighed, turned, and walked into his own apartment.
He took off his shoes and plopped onto his bed, then summoned the world's most boring system interface.
He looked at his stats, then got carried away touching the side of his cheek, still warm, where Mae had kissed him before she boarded the bus.
Ortega's chest was heavy. He saw it now, why she'd hired him in a beat. Who was going to help her run the store when he left? He'd asked, but she'd just dismissed him, saying she'd find someone. But who?
Ortega simply wished her happiness. She'd endured enough. First her husband, and even now the occasional robbery and harassment. He wished he could help her. Really did.
He sighed, then let his mind drift to the future, toward what his first day at XFashion and the days after would look like. Whatever challenge came ahead, he was ready.
Ortega had a feeling he'd soon uncover more…
He couldn't help feeling apprehensive and excited…
Just two more days. Two more days and then the real test begins. Ortega couldn't wait.
Couldn't sleep.
He stared at the dark ceiling.
Time lapsed.
He tried to calm his roaring heart, but to no avail.
His mind kept swimming with visions of cashing out, buying a Lambo, living in a spacious, luxurious penthouse. He imagined Mae with him in that penthouse. The both of them fucking nonstop.
Then there were other women too. Velvet, Salome, and Laura.
Their hands roaming his body.
Laura giving him head. Him fucking that infuriatingly sexy mouth of hers.
Big-spooning Mae's heavenly ass.
Velvet riding him like a stallion.
Salome's lips on his, her fingers clasped around his dick.
Which was now a hard, saluting soldier.
He felt the overwhelming urge to touch himself.
He held back and turned to his side. Willing the thoughts to go away, but they wouldn't.
After hours of daydreaming at midnight, after countless twists and turns, Ortega found a good position and slept. Though before his eyes closed…
He smirked.
And woke up on the floor, a throb at the back of his head.
He sat up and clutched his head. He'd fallen down, it seemed. What you get for sleeping like a ragdoll on the edge of your bed.
He woke to see it was almost morning.
A bit dark, which meant very early.
His alarm clock read 5:50 a.m.
Thankfully yet to go off.
Ortega stood up and dressed his bed. He had time. And wasn't feeling drowsy, which was new but welcome.
He shifted open the windows, breathing in the fresh morning air with something that inched close to contentment on his face. 'Twas only a matter of time...
Calmly and patiently, he swept his floors, then began to stretch and jog on the spot.
Shifting to burpees. Then squats and pull-ups using the bar attached over his bathroom doorframe.
He was done in thirty minutes and sweating all over.
He nodded at his reflection in the mirror and headed to his bathroom, where he took a refreshingly cold shower and brushed his teeth.
Ortega even had the grace to sing while he bathed.
The world suddenly felt more alive.
He dried his hair and looted his pitiful wardrobe for a shirt and jeans.
As he slipped on his worn-out Nikes, the thought of getting new clothes crossed his mind.
He took the money from under his pillow and knocked on Mr. Yugo's door after closing his apartment behind him.
Thankfully, the old man answered.
Ortega handed him the money.
The man collected it. Then gave Ortega something like a nod of approval before his door closed.
Ortega skipped down the stairs and out into the world.
His to conquer, Ortega affirmed, buying mint gum from a stall.
He popped it and chewed, relishing the spicy ice that flooded his mouth.
Ortega was one to take pride in his walk, but as he moved past empty stalls opening, inklings of the world waking, he couldn't help but feel especially graceful today.
His movements had a relaxed, fluid rhythm.
Anticipation burned in his heart at the thought of meeting Mae. What she'd probably be wearing today. Her smile. God, her smile.
He wasn't all about ass and tits, you know.
As he neared, the air shifted and his thoughts ran dark.
That was because he saw Bron standing in front of the store, beholding him with a smirk that promised chaos.
Holding the keys.
Fire spread from Ortega's chest to the rest of him.
But his glare was ice at the bodybuilder who twisted the key, loosening the chains.
"Where's Mae?"
Bron did not answer immediately. But his jaw was tight.
"She's not feeling well."
'Bullshit,' Ortega thought. 'What happened to her? Bastard, what did you do? Why are you with her keys? Does she trust you like that? More than… me?'
Rage spiralled through his thoughts, but outwardly he was unnervingly still.
Bron simply pushed open the doors and said,
"Work starts in two."
With that, he walked in, not even bothering with an explanation.