Under New Management | Open

No one would have imagined that the Predigio bakery would be so lively – not after years of it being nothing more than a solitary little building. Wedged between a funeral parlor and a flower shop, the locale rarely ever saw any customers aside from the occasional mourning family and one or two sweet tooths. Needless to say, it had been a dying business and it showed.

Too expensive to keep afloat and too out of eye’s reach to really garner any notable attention, the shop had been slowly decaying as the owner was unable to pay for upkeep. The windows had begun to yellow, it’s walls cracked, and its sign worn beyond belief; the bakery had begun to outweigh the funeral parlor in terms of doom and gloom.

A stark contrast, really, to the now humble and bumble that came from within the locale itself.

Outside, a large banner reading Grand Reopening in elegantly-written letters hanged from each corner of the bakery’s large display window, the words Under New Management written neatly underneath. Inside, everything had been fixed, replaced, or otherwise demolished to make space for tables and displays that were now arranged with beautiful decorations and pastries. Everything had a certain sparkle to it, a novelty – all the way from the flawless checkered marble flooring to the to the white cement walls and wooden accents.

A young redheaded man moved about inside. Dressed in a suit and apron, he carried a metal tray filled with tiny cakes and other confectionary goods as he took the time to deliver them to children and adults alike. A group of older women called out to him, but before he was able to attend their needs the small bell atop the entranceway chimed and the man stopped in his tracks.

The door opened as a new customer (or customers!) stepped through, the sweet smell of pastries quickly flowing out and beyond the shop. Holding the tray in one hand and using the other to bring his hat to his chest, the redhead gave a courteous bow to the newcomer.

“Welcome to Predigio. My name is Wesley and I shall be your humble servant in this fine day”

From his stance Wes peered up at the new customer, the polite smile never leaving his face as he straightened himself and returned his hat. The girl before him seemed rather lost as she took in the entirety of Predigio’s interior. A marvel, she must have thought, truly amazing. Wes’s smile grew. The Predigio really had been a pile of garbage and he was glad someone out of all these puffed-up snobs could recognize the achievement. They wouldn’t know a day’s hard work even if it hit them like a bat to the face.

Though the look on her face betrayed her and Wes’s thoughts shifted. She didn’t have the same airs as the usual Englorian citizen. Telling a servant, much less a waiter, that formalities weren’t needed was a dead giveaway. Not a noble in the least – most of them would eat up the fancy talk in no time. Hell, even the occasional Englorian peasant would too.

Her hand trembled as she brought up the flyer with the opening day specials. Wes would understand being overwhelmed, but this girl was about to downright break into a sweat. Funny. Then again, he could be reading the situation wrong.

“Oh, four dozen?” he leaned forward, feigning interest as he squinted his eyes at the crinkled-up paper. Wes rubbed his chin, “It seems the fine lady has quite a large appetite despite her size. Yes, we do have the offer still. It is opening day, after all,” Wes stated matter-of-factly, like she was slow to catch on to the idea or forgot. Some people, really.

“Come along now.”

Before he could let her speak, Wes moved besides the girl. He let his hand hover behind her back as he ushered her to the main counter where a rather anxious-looking man with an apron that matched Wes’s busily took the orders of other clients. On the counter all around him was an assortment of different snacks ranging from simple-looking breads to a variety of donuts. Upon seeing Wes, he directed his gaze elsewhere.

He continued, “And you must forgive me but lacking formalities – even if to a child like yourself – would be remiss. It does come with the job, after all. I do, however, appreciate the kindness, miss…?” he let the question hang in the air in hopes of learning the girl’s name.

As they approached the counter Wes placed the tray of snacks he carried on the nearest empty spot, setting it down gently as to not ruin the decorations on the little pastries. Much to the dismay of the older women, the girl’s order had been larger and as such they would have to wait until he was done with this new occurrence. Plus, he had to admit, she had been the most amusing thing that’s happened so far.

At his inquiry the girl introduced herself as Bleuenn.

Bleuenn…

Bleu?

Wes took the moment to actually look at her. His blue eyes momentarily flicked down and then right back up as he sized up her outfit, hair, and features. Blue-haired and purpled-dressed; it seemed her parents didn’t take many liberties when naming her. Yet, it was her eyes that truly caught his attention. Earlier he had noticed that she tried to cover herself with the shop’s flyer. Wes would have had waved off the action as just a shy girl not used to close interaction, but even so he was unable to take a gander at her face. And if he knew anything about his line of work it was to always remember a face. So, he couldn’t help but look into her eyes – his brows raising ever so slightly when he noticed the color they held.

Truly an unusual name for an unusual girl.

It seemed his teasing had gotten to her as a faint blush made its way to her face. Annoyance, maybe embarrassment, as she explained that she wasn’t a child. ‘Could’ve fooled me,’ he would had said, but bit his tongue instead opting for a cheeky smile. She didn’t give him the chance to respond.

“Woah, hey–,” Wes raised his hands apprehensively as Bleu summoned forth ice from her palm, further cementing his realization as to who she was. A low gasp came from behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he witnessed as some of the customers whispered among themselves at having witnessed Bleu. It wasn’t rare for eldritch (or so he assumed she was) to be unwelcome in certain parts of the world. He frowned. Fuck them.

The snapping of the trap Bleu held startled him to attention, as did the customers behind him.

“An adventurer!” he exclaimed immediately, clasping his hand together as he returned to the conversation. “My, yes, how lovely! And what a noble cause, too!” Wes placed a hand on his chest as if to signify her words had reached his heart, his very soul even.

Wes whipped around to face the people that had been whispering and now even glaring at her. He made a dramatic gesture, “Clear the way, everyone! This girl needs donuts, and she will GET her donuts!!”

Some of the customers complained, nobles probably, and others shuffled out of the way in suddenly acquired or feigned respect. “Bartholomew, if you may,” he snapped his finger and the man behind the counter jumped to it, bringing out fresh donuts of every color and size further adding the piles of baked goods already on display.

“This here is a respected adventurer despite her looks, and you will treat her as such,” he held out his hand for her to place the trap in. “She’s even taken the time to gift craft us this sculpture in your very presence.”

If there could be one thing in this world that Wes loved the most it was pissing off a noble or two, more so if it were a whole group of them. His antics may have garnered a less-than-friendly laugh from one or two of these lords and ladies but at the end of day their seething faces made life a just a little bit better. Though, this time, it seemed to be at the expense of the blue-haired girl next to him as he completely disregarded her attempts at humbling the situation (or bringing to light the truth, more like). Even as he looked at her now, he could see Bleu was uncomfortable. Her wasn’t convincing anyone, at least, not him.

Oh, well.

As the trap was placed on his hand, he immediately felt the need to recoil at the searing cold. The ice prickled at his skin as it threatened to spread across his palm. Wes placed the trap next to the metal tray he had been holding not moments ago and slammed his fist next to it. The little cakes and drinks wobbled slightly.

The pain had definitely registered.

“Hphmm! Gorgeous!” He played off the pain as excitement. At the same time, the welcome bell rang though he paid no attention. Instead, he directed his attention to Bleu.

“Thank you for the lovely gift. The Predigio Bakery will humbly put it to good use,” and by that he meant throw it into a freezer and forget about it. Wes straightened himself out, his clenched fist now hidden behind his back. He could feel it pulsing as the biting cold dug into his skin. “Go on. Take what you need miss, Bleuenn. You may even have two free donuts for yourself for the trouble. I do recommend the jelly donuts, myself. They’re quite the delicacy it seems.”

Bartholomew placed the batch of donuts before them, careful not to let them near the icy trap on the table. Then he attended to the new customer, greeting him with half a smile. Never one that was much for words, Bartholomew pointed his thumb at the short couple right next to the man. More specifically, the redhead among the two. He cleared his throat loudly and Wes perked up at the sound.

“Yes, Bartholomew, what is it?” he turned to face the older man with genuine curiosity. Slowly, his gaze made its way to the silver-haired man at the front of the counter.

“Welcome to the-“

“It our new employee, sir.”

“OH! Yes, right, of course. Welcome aboard our little bakery!” he took the man’s hand gently in his own two, completely forgetting that his right was freezing cold out of the excitement. He recoiled at the pain soon after with a soft “yeow” and returned it behind his back, yet his left hand still held on. “It is my wish that you come to call this bakery home as Bartholomew and I have over the past few months,” he gave the taller man a reassuring smile along with a bow before letting go. He had been notified that the bakery had a new hire but hadn’t expected the face to show for a while longer. Good thing the man showed when he did, however. They were getting quite busy, after all.

His attention returned his to Bleu, “Miss Bleuen, I’d like you to meet–” but before he could introduce Predigio’s newest employee the door swung open, and the little bell atop it give a resounding ring. The tiniest, most smallest being he had ever seen almost burst through the door as all sorts of words of wonder and excitement came rolling out of her mouth. The little fairy only got louder and louder as she progressed, and Wes had to give the bird-sized blonde props for having for having such crazy lung power. At a loss for words, all he could do was watch as the wings zipped her straight to the counter.

Poor Bartholomew, who had just come back from fetching another apron and was currently holding it up for Beaux almost yelped in response to the fae’s sudden onslaught. What’s worse, she even got his name wrong. Wes snorted at the mistake and absolute face of confusion coming from the man behind the counter.

“My, so many interesting faces today!” he chimed in an attempt to grab her attention, continuing his fancy act after the blonde had stopped talking. At this point many of the nobles had turned to face another way out of sheer incredulity. First a hybrid and now a hyperactive fae. The disrespect, they probably thought. Though some of them still stole glances at the new employee.

“Yes, I would be the owner,” unsure of how exactly to proceed with the exchange, he greeted her with a smile, a hand to the heart, and a nod. “I’m not quite sure you can stay past closing time as our employees need their rest and for that I must apologize. However, a cute little fae such as yourself is welcome to come back any time and for as many treats as she would like.”

“Isn’t that right, Beaux?” Wes nodded at him, giving him a playful wink. “I’m afraid I’m a little busy at the moment, would you mind attending to our newest customer’s need? I’ll be with the two of you soon.”

He observed as the little winged gaiyan blushed with a pleasant smile, happy to have elicited a nice reaction. Though as he tried to keep up with her speech, he found it harder and harder not to tune out her little voice. He did, however, deliver a small gesture akin to a dutiful ‘you’re welcome’ at having called her cute. If she was right about one thing it was that Wes had no idea what he had gotten himself into. But really, how much could a bird-sized woman eat?

Wait.

How would she even pay for all the sweets? Would she be able to afford all those orders? She wasn’t shutting up anytime soon. And before he could think any further about the logistics behind faes and vyldergold Wes gave Beaux a few pats on the shoulder as both a sign of good luck and his sincerest apologies, “Let me know if you need any help, alright? Just call and I’ll be right over.”

Turning away, he was immediately met with the blue-haired eldritch screaming in his face. Startled and confused, the redhead almost shrunk back at the suddenness. “I… certainly do…?” he replied, watching the odd girl remove some sort of ice plugs from her ears. Had she heard him, he didn’t know. Surprisingly, Bleu apologized for the incident and his confused face softened as she even offered to help heal him.

“Oh, no need to apologize I do believe the accident was well-deserved. I suppose I let my antics get the better of me. I’m inclined to say that it would take more than a simple ice burn to really cause any damage. Yet if the miss insists, I will gladly allow her to assist me.”

His hand was still freezing. Even know he could feel the ice prickle through his skin as he held out his hand for her. The skin in his palm had turned red, inflamed. Expected. And he feigned surprise at having seen it.

“Huh, maybe I do need the help,” he said, flexing his hand slightly.

A minute later the muffled sound of the bell rang once more, threatening to go unnoticed by the bakery’s owner due to all the commotion. About to welcome whoever stepped through, he caught himself midsentence. The flash of red hair and the undeniable similarity leaving him speechless. If Bleu had been applying the ointment by now, she’d find Wes gripping her hand with enough force for it to hurt. Yet his customer-friendly smile never disappeared.

So many odd characters indeed.

The more Wes observed him, however, the more he figured it wasn’t him. From the polite way the man handled himself to the affection he showed the old man, this wasn’t Andrea. Though if it weren’t for the differences in height, Wes and this man could pass for twins.

“Welcome!” the shorter redhead called out from his spot near the counter, hoping to catch the taller one’s attention. Behind Wes, a slightly annoyed Bartholomew quickly packed up donuts of all colors placing them all in four separate boxes.

“Please take a seat or feel free to browse at your leisure, we’ll be with you in just a moment. We’re a little bit packed as you can see.”