Quebec walked from one room to the next. He didn't know what everyone else meant when they said running a business was hard. Maybe it was because this was like a secondary job so he wasn't as worried about losing a regular customer, but making sure nobody was causing problems was quite easy to him when threats were easy to back up. Wandering by the entrance, he checked his messages from a potential client having yet to get a response on why they were running late. -twenty-six-deviants
He wasn't one to pick fights, but that didn't mean he was good at avoiding them. A bump, a spilled drink, and a few sour words earlier in the night had evidently been all it took to get a pair of men following him outside the bar and down the road towards his home. It could've been the flirt too, he amended, but in his defense, the face who'd insulted him had been a handsome one, and he hadn't wanted to go home alone tonight. He guessed he was getting his wish.
Even with his dulled senses, he knew it was a bad idea to slip off a busy street and onto a quiet one. He knew it was a worse idea to try and start running once his feet hit pavement out of the sight of anyone but the men behind him. It was the absolute, dumb-as-rocks, worst idea he'd ever had to slip into the first door that opened ahead of him without a second glance to see where he was headed. The bright lights and thumping music and crowding, warm bodies were the last thing he wanted- but he saw the door swing open behind him and decided not to wait to see if it was who he thought it was. He bumped into someone and turned to apologize, face quickly flushing when he realized it was someone who clearly worked here. "U- uh, fuck- sorry. ..Hey, could I- uh... jesus. Sorry."
While Quebec was hoping to spend the night sleeping like Charlie, he knew it was for a better cause to ensure someone's safety. Instead he decide to spend the rest of the night "handling finances" aka partying with his coworkers until they all had to go home and he fell asleep on one of the couches.
He made sure to get up an hour before Charlie, sneaking back into the room to use the bathroom and reapply some makeup. Was it to make it nicer? No. But too much had come off for his liking and he also left said make up in that bathroom. It was only when he was sneaking his way out he saw something on the floor at the edge of the bed and picking it up, he couldn't help but read it. Unable to help himself he immediately began trying to lightly shake Charlie away. He was a mechanic and just the guy Quebec needed.
"Sweetie! Wakey wakey! Rise and shine Pretty boy!" He did his best to keep it at an excited whisper, but was on the verge of vibrating with excitement.
Waking up took more effort than he wanted to spend on it. He groaned at the feeling of being shifted and swore at no one in particular, then finally opened his eyes to see the man standing above him.
Oh, shit. The night before came back in a series of half-coherent images and a cold feeling of shock-- how the hell'd he end up here? With an apparent assassin standing over his bed and a headache already threatening to split his skull, he took a quiet breath and shut his eyes for just another moment.
"I'm as awake as I'm gonna get," he answered, looking back up again. Then he frowned. He'd stayed the night like he'd been told to, but now.. "You gonna let me outta here, or've I gotta walk in a straight line first?"
Quebec grinned holding a business card far too close to Charlie's eyes to be visible. It was for his mechanic business. "I was about to drop this job since I wouldn't know enough to fake it, but you might be my golden ticket! I just need you to teach me about the job." He then pulled up a photo of the target and it was a all too familiar face.
Jack Robertson. He was a guy running for senate, but in particular known for his speeches of wanting to cut funding for schools in half and most notably make discrimination legal. It wasn't entirely a mystery why he of all people was a target but how Quebec had already had his address was another matter.
" Tell me hun, how do you feel about making twenty five thousand dollars for teaching me? Ill split the money if you're up for it. I can also get you some food and a drink regardless."
