Chapter Text
If there was ever a voice more irritating than this one man’s, he’d win the award. Callum had his eyes closed tight as the man who called himself Taylor was going on and on about the apartment complex he owned. Callum was not quite sure why he bothered coming in when he couldn’t even afford the rent. A miracle maybe. He blinked his eyes open again, listening and nodding along like he didn’t blank out a moment ago.
“Now, young man-” He began, which was the only thing Callum hung onto. It was a nice warm feeling of being called that. “The rent monthly would be $750 we require a $750 security deposit, there’s no need for the final month’s rent but this overall would be $1,500-”
Callum choked on air. He did NOT have $1,500. This did catch Taylor’s attention. “I know this might be rather pricey but given the area and size its-”
Callum held up a hand. “No- no it’s not that- I’m sure that’s a reasonable price sir-” Callum’s voice cracked slightly which he internally flinched about. “I just don’t really have that sort of money- I can definitely gather that if I had some time…”
The look on the other man made Callum trail off. The older adjusted his sleeve, likely uncomfortable with what Callum was close to offering. A slight sniff of disapproval to top it off.
“This place will not be for free, so do not even bother requesting to go around the deposit for the first month.” He wasn’t exactly sure how renting an apartment or even buying a house went, and it wasn’t overly complex and Callum certainly didn’t have enough but he was still a stranger to this town.
“I’m sorry but I can’t-” Callum cut off the other man again with a nod. “No, it’s alright I get it, I’ll see what I can do and if I can I’ll give a call?” Callum offered. The man called Taylor offered a card.
“I can not make any promises that it will be here by the time you decide you have the money for it.” The comment sounded dramatic– just like everything about this man. “Afterall I simply cannot make exceptions. If I did, everyone would demand one, and where would that leave me?”
Because being a decent human being is such a downfall of man.
Callum thought, but bit his tongue in order not to cause more of a stir. Unfortunate, considering he enjoys causing a stir.
Callum didn’t offer much of a parting goodbye, in fact he was sure the man called Taylor was still going on about how important this building was and that he couldn’t make many exceptions. That noise was blocked out as Callum trudged down the stairs, the steps echoing in the corridor, feeling heavier as Taylor’s voice died out behind him. The truck sputtered to life, and the low gas icon blinked at Callum with the passive-aggressiveness of a parent waiting to say ‘I told you so’.
Callum hit his forehead against the steering wheel. His eyes clenched shut again and he inhaled through his nose, trying to die down the bubbling frustration that seemed to flood his mind. A minor ache swarmed behind his eyes as he could to hear his father’s voice, like a nagging fly. “It’s an adventure.” Everything about the tone was close to that of a bad motivational speaker, where advice sounded like a taunt. Which would sum up his father in a sentence.
Deciding to save on gas, Callum turned the engine off and got back out, instead taking a walk back into the town towards the square. Most of his things were covered in the backseat, and with the area being so well secured, Callum wasn’t worried about anyone taking them.
The sounds of people talking and walking around was a nice change of pace, a contrast of warmth to the cold air. This town was alive and it breathed community, something Callum was never exposed to. He didn’t think it was a bad place at all, the people seemed nice, minus a few pretentious talkers. There was a diner, but the hardware sign on top of the door made Callum pause. Really, what was this town’s deal? He’d probably check the place out later, and see if its a two-for-one deal.
If there was any worthwhile advice his parents ever gave, Callum had to admit the adventure-taunt his dad always repeated wasn’t the worst of it. So he was homeless, what did that matter? This was a fresh town where nobody knew him, his parents or who he used to be. As Callum walked he took in the blur of mundane details of the townsfolk– What clothes they wanted to wear, what’s new at the high school, when would Luke have a new special? He stopped as he took it all in. He was standing amongst these people, the buildings, and yet Callum felt so far away and reminded he was not even a part of it.
He wanted it. He would get it.
So how would he start to get it? The more he wandered the town the more the weight of being so– new stood out to him. The town was new for him but he was also new to the town. It was unlikely they’d just hire someone they would assume to be a tourist. The sounds of pleasant conversations as people walked in and out of stores seemed to overwhelm him. How did such a small town seem so big?
A low growl from his stomach made him squeeze his eyes shut again. It ached, and he hadn't had a proper meal in a day. He pulled his wallet out and frowned deeply. Only a few dollars left and it wouldn’t get him anything substantial. The diner crossed his mind again but he’d dread the idea of a handout of a cheap pb&j; It would only make him feel smaller than he already felt.
An odd look from a passing woman pulled Callum from his thoughts and he realized he was speaking aloud.
“Great, now they think I’m crazy” He mumbled and continued onto the park, sitting at a bench near the Gazebo. The warmth he felt earlier from the town clouded over as he began to feel more isolated. A list of stressful responsibilities began to pile on him, causing his whole body to feel tense and uncomfortable.
The taunting voice of his father was trying to slip in again. Maybe his parents were right. Maybe he should just get gas and try to plead for forgiveness. He’d even grovel to his knees. The thought of that made his chest ache. The agony of embarrassment of proving your parents right, along with the fact he couldn’t be himself? He had been running from their expectations for so long, and now he was on a bench in a strange town with barely enough to buy himself a meal. The increasing weight of being told that he can’t do this, he can’t do anything for himself, he’s too reliant, it began to feel real. The worst of it all– he began to believe it.
“Start with a small piece, sweetheart.” A motherly voice pulled Callum from his spiral. A mother sat nearby, feeding her son small parts of a sandwich she seemed to have made. The boy was scarfing each one like it was his last. The tightness of his chest unwound itself slowly from watching the scene.
Callum could do that. He could start small. He needed money, so besides robbing banks and mugging old ladies, he could get a job. It didn’t matter where it was– he just needed to get started and make some money. A twist of his mouth and scanning the area before him, Callum got up from his spot walking to the newsstand. Paying out a couple of quarters, he took a paper and walked back to the bench. He scanned over the paper, looking for job opportunities, or something that he could do to make some spare cash.
“Independence Inn hiring, contact Lorelai Gilmore.”
His eyes bore down on the line over and over, ingesting the words like they were there to give him answers to the universe. It all felt too good to be true, this was a very ideal opportunity. Complained enough and it seemed the universe got tired of the nagging and gave in. The only issue is that when he arrived in town late last night he didn’t pay much attention to the buildings. Looking up from the newspaper, he scanned around before his eyes landed on a person.
Callum stood, clutching the newspaper in his hand and strolled up to a man, standing out from the rest of the town in a suit. Everyone else seemed so casual or flashy and yet he seemed stiff and professional. Possibly, he’d be more relaxed about giving Callum directions if he asked. He was moving around the crosswalk, looking like he was observing the space and walkway. Callum slowed his pace as he got closer but before he could even get a word in, the man looked at him, completely blank faced. As the man stared him down, seemingly waiting, Callum wasn’t sure whether to speak or keep walking.
“Do you like hot dogs?” The man finally spoke.
Callum stared back, mouth slightly open as he paused on his words.
“What?”
“Hot dogs, yes or no?” This man asked, staring down Callum with an intensity that made him feel like he was being interrogated.
“I guess?”
“Wonderful, I’m going to be opening a prime hot dog cart across the store here,” He gestured grandly, “since there seems to be a lot of foot traffic. They won’t just be any hot dogs– they will instead be supreme hot dogs, you know those really long ones at baseball games? Well they never make the buns fit, but with my hot dogs? I make the buns fit. No short buns here my friend.”
Callum began to scratch the back of his neck, growing impatient. “Can you tell me where the Independence Inn is?”
“What?”
“The Independence Inn. Where is it?”
The man scratched his head now, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “So you’re not from here.”
“No.”
“Oh. Well there goes that idea” He proceeded to hand Callum a small card. “Down two blocks, then right.” The man finally answered, “Contact me if you have any good ideas, a tourist’s mind can be a goldmine for business.”
The man walked off, mumbling about hot dogs and then stopping another pedestrian, likely to ask similar questions. Looking at the card it simply read “Kirk Gleason” with a number at the bottom. No business name, no explanation. Just Kirk. Of course. Callum blinked at the card before slowly putting it in his pocket, glancing back at Kirk and the other guy he was talking to– who also looked confused. Was there anyone in this town that wasn’t auditioning for some cartoon sitcom? Or was Callum the unlucky guest star that they tested their jokes on?
Walking down the road, Callum could only hope it would get simpler from here.