#normanjayden

FBI open the door💖😌

“Do you know the story behind SONTC YOUTH’s album cover?

In 2008, two key witnesses mysteriously disappeared while involved in a case concerning government technology abuse. According to conspiracy theorists, the two were former Pentagon technology consultant Jack Reilly and FBI agent Norman Jayden.

The night before they were set to present crucial evidence, their bodies were discovered by police inside a burned-out car along the Potomac River in Washington. Some believe they were silenced, while others insist they orchestrated their own deaths.

Their story circulated in underground forums, and a now-untraceable photograph eventually became the cover of SONTC YOUTH’s new EP.

wip btw...

So basically in this AU Norman Jayden is a flower shop owner and his bf Jack Reilly is a coffee shop owner. The two of them bond through a collaboration of Norman helping jack’s small coffee shop flourish through vibrant flowers that grow throughout spring as well as a traditional homey cafe with a warm beverage.

It’s kind of my first time writing something to do with Norman dialogue-wise, so I have no idea whether I’ve got his character right or not; so to get to know his character and perhaps look for criticism, I’ve written a one-shot.

Please provide criticism for dialogue and let me know how I can improve!! ^^

(EDIT: I GOT IT POSTED ON AO3!! Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53010700)

A proposition.

The coffee owner initiates cleanup the moment he feels the presence of frequent visitors is bare as a desert; swiping dirty tables and crumbs sluggishly, missing the ever few stains of bitter coffee but remaining unbothered. Although more sluggish than usual, he remains oblivious to the observing presence of a flower shop owner, following his moves with his soft and admiring expression, gleaming through his sage-green eyes.

Jack gives up at the sign of his blind movement, missing the small bits and bobs of stains and ceramic plates, straying to the spruce counter to slouch over and reflect, covering his cracking facade with his trembling hands.

Norman notices this, perking up curiously as he snaps out of his trance. At the first sign of vulnerability, he gets up from his spot in the corner, heading to check up on the gloomy coffee owner.

“You look downtrodden tonight. What’s eating at you?”

He broke the cold silence that loomed the closed up and dimly lit shop.

Reilly straightens, his startled eyes looking at Norman like he was a deer staring at headlights.

“I-it’s nothing really. Just had a bad day, I guess.” He answered reluctantly.

Although reluctance was shown, he takes his face out of his hands still creating a tremor as if he were watered down to nothing but a bundle of shivers.

“O-okay, maybe there is something that’s ‘eating away at me’, as you put it.” Jack quivered, giving in to his own emotional state.

Norman’s eyes remain on Reilly, waiting for the burdened barista to speak his words, nodding softly as to remain attentive.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore. Fuck, everyone’s leaving for the café around the corner. Students who used to study here and used to frequent for a good cuppa’ have vanished, and as I walk, they’re chatting away and working at the ‘haba de café’, as they call it. (I ran out of name ideas.)

I can’t even keep it running with all the cost of good quality beans inflating, or the constant remarks about how the haba de cafe is so much better than this run-down place, with their modern decor of fake and artificial flowers, or posters with LED borders.

I might just shut down this place. Find a new apartment and just work a typical 9-5. It’s tiring trying to keep a positive and optimistic passion for this place, when no one wants to see it.” Jack rambled. His face paints with distraught at the thought of being unable to pursue his passion, instead having to go to a boring job in a cheap apartment.

“Hey. Listen.”

A reassuring hand from Norman lands on Jack’s, causing him to glance at the flower shop owner.

“I’ve seen what this place does, and it has potential. Just because some new coffee shop opened up by some wealthy bastard who wants to leech more money off of loyal customers, doesn’t mean you should put yourself down. If anythin’, you shouldn’t even bother comparing yourself to that place. They’ve got more than one person working, meanwhile you’re a one-man management. You work with enthusiasm and it shows in the drinks and the food just how much love was put into it. It’s why people frequent this place. The quiet atmosphere and the homey aroma of this place is what’s so great about it.” Norman reassured, his tone soft-spoken and attentive.

Jack loosens up, his eyes glancing to the polished countertop, staring at the dim reflection of his inverted counterpart.

“That’s what I intended to create.. a quiet yet homely atmosphere..” He cuts himself off, as if something was ignited in the barista, his eyes lighting up in realisation.

“W-why was i getting so worked up for, in that case? This isn’t about the profit, or gaining money. It was just that I wanted to create this environment, intended for everyone to use, to feel at peace as if they’re just at home, about a hot beverage in the cold winter, creating a warm feeling after a chilly day. I was only getting started! Although.. what can I do? It’s going to remain unchanged even if I regain my love for the relaxed atmosphere of a traditional cafe with hand-brewed coffee.” Jack questioned, glancing at Norman.

“I was thinking of a proposition between you and I. Something that could benefit the both of us.” The florist replied, carefully contemplating the words to say to the coffee shop owner, slowly breaking eye contact with him.

“I could help decorate your place, if you’d like. Since valentine’s is around the corner, as well as spring, the flowers are at their optimum and lovestruck teenagers would be buying roses for their significant others. It could benefit the both of us; allowing promotion of my shop, and attraction to your place.” Norman eventually offered, his observant yet hesitant eyes attempting to gauge the reaction of the barista.

Reilly lit up like a star; the happiest he’s been since he opened the place.

“Are you shitting me?! It’s a perfect idea! It’s just the thing I need! Botany, to add some flourish, life to this place! Externally and internally! You fucking genius!” Reilly grips Norman’s loose hand on his into the form of a handshake, moving it firmly before pulling the florist into a hug.