Disturbing immagini and The Virgin Manager

Duncan was currently being interviewed da the manager of Starbucks, Frank Harrington. He seemed to be a meek virgin in Duncan’s point of view. He looked about twenty-two years old, though Duncan looked much older than him—in a good way. He was a puny man, compared to Duncan’s 6’2” stature.

Normally, Duncan wouldn’t get a chance to be interviewed in popolare jobs like this. He would usually threaten the owner of the job he was interested in, and, like magic, he’s an employee in that job the successivo day. Now, he didn’t have to do that since Trent suggested him, and Frank trusted Trent, Duncan guessed.

“Okay, Mr. Evans—,” Frank started quietly.

“Please call me ‘Duncan,’ dude,” Duncan cut off, grinning. This is gonna be good, he thought happily.

“Um, okay…Duncan. We will begin your interview. I assume te are a well-mannered man”—Duncan had to smirk at that—“judging from Trent’s opinion. His friend works here, and he’s a regular customer, so you’ll be seeing him a lot.” Frank clicked his pen and adjusted his clipboard. “Now, do te have a resume?”

Duncan shook his head. “Sorry, Frankie, I don’t. This was sort of last minute, so I didn’t have the time. Just ask me the domande that are necessary for this interview thing, and write it on your little clipboard, m’kay?”

Frank nodded shyly. “All right… Please state your full name, Duncan.”

“Duncan Aiden Evans. Next, if te may.”

“Um…your age please.”

“Younger than you,” Duncan joked. “Nah, just joking, man. I’m nineteen years old.”

Frank cleared his throat nervously. “Your nationality?”

Duncan pursed his lips. “Wow, dude, I never thought about that…” Then he snapped his fingers suddenly, surprising Frank. “I’m half Italian and half Canadian. I can sort of speak Italian and understand it. I was forced to learn it from Granny.” He shuddered at the memory.

“Uh, okay. When is your data of birth, Mr.—I mean, Duncan?”

“July 7, 1990. I expect a present from you, Frankie. I hope it’s something with the word ‘Playboy’ in it if te know what I’m saying.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Or, if not, a Harley motorcycle—the latest one.”

Frank blushed at the “Playboy” part. “What are your special qualities?”

“As I detto earlier, I can sort of speak Italian—if that counts. I can pierce your earlobe, your bellybutton, your ass, anything! I can draw tatoos anywhere. I can carve skulls. I can do some awesome tagging. I can—”

“S-Sorry to interrupt, Duncan, but how about something that te don’t usually do every day? Something not a lot of people know about, and is also useful for this job.”

“Er, I know that the Italian part is useful.” Duncan didn’t want to say this, but he can trust Puny Frankie. “I can…act really well. I was in a play once, and got the lead part. I’m very athletic—I Amore soccer. I can fight, which is useful for robbers o whatever. And, other than tagging, I can draw pretty well. If te want me to draw a naked chick for your logo, I’d happily oblige.”

“O-Okay…then. Did te have any jobs before this? If so, name them please.”

“I used to work at a mechanic shop, tattoo parlor, piercing parlor, but that’s together with the tattoo parlor, so yeah, and…that’s pretty much.”

“Now, tell me, why do te want to work here?”

“’Cause I need the money and this is the only place left for me.”

Frank straightened up in his chair. “Well, Duncan, after a couple of days, te will receive a call about whether o not te got the job, okay?”

Duncan pouted. “Why can’t te just hire me now?” he complained.

“I have to see if this information te gave me are true, and I—”

“Dude, I’m telling te the truth. Are te being like this just because I’m obviously a bad boy? Judging people is a no-no, Frankie-boy. And let me tell te this: I have my high school diploma. I even got accepted into some universities. They’re not all fancy like Harvard o Yale, but at least I got accepted. I need this, man,” Duncan practically pleaded. “I know I have criminal records, but I’ll try to be a good citizen for you.” He added, “Please.”

Frank sighed. “This is an infraction…but you’re an exception since te are desperate. I can tell you’re not lying, Duncan.”

“Jeez, Frank, if te knew that I wasn’t lying, why couldn’t te just hire me right then and there instead of hearing me plead. I hate pleading; it makes me weak and vulnerable—like you.”

Frank’s cheeks were tinted pink. “Um…I’m not—,” he began.

“Frank, you’re the manager of this place. In order for your employees to respect you, te have to be assertive. Be bossy. That’s part of your job, dude. Don’t make them take advantage of you. You’re the leader of this place, so act like it,” Duncan encouraged.

Frank was surprised. He didn’t know Duncan could be so inspiring o encouraging.

“I—I will,” he stuttered.

Duncan grinned. “Good. So, do I get the job o not?”

“Of course te do. I did say it earlier, right?”

“Well, Frankie-boy, te just made the right choice ever.”

--

Courtney was currently pigging out with Bridgette at a fast food restaurant, known as the famous McDonalds. She ate two large packs of fries, two Whoppers, and one McChicken. Bridgette doesn’t even eat that much!

“Courtney, stop thinking about that supposedly-hot criminal,” Bridgette sighed.

“I’m not,” Courtney replied incoherently, stuffing più nuggets in her mouth.

“Yes, te are. You’re stress-eating. It’s what te do when you’re stressed out over something. Stop eating, o else you’ll be unhealthy, filled with cholesterol sticking to your body.”

“Ugh, you’re like a mom sometimes.” Courtney pushed away the nuggets, and started drinking her frutta punch.

Bridgette laughed. “But seriously, stop eating. You’ll regret it afterwards and start to whine about how unfit te are. Then you’ll go overboard in exercising.”

“At least I don’t get too insecure to the point of anorexia,” Courtney pointed out.

“That’s good.” Then Bridgette smiled slyly. “It seems te can’t get Mr. Criminal out of your mind, eh? Do te like him?”

“His face keeps popping into my mind randomly, which isn’t the fault of love. I don’t like him,” Courtney retorted robotically. She pulled the nuggets back and started nibbling on one.

“Yeah, te say that, but your actions speak otherwise. You’re eating again, so obviously your thinking about him; and right now, te are blushing.”

Courtney immediately touched her cheeks, feeling the warmth on it. “My body is currently mal-malfunctioning! That’s probably the answer to my outlandish actions, s-so, in conclusion, it is not associated with th-that perverted criminal!”

Bridgette sighed. Her best friend is in denial. She sometimes wished Courtney wasn’t so stubborn. That way she won’t have to go through the long process to which she finally realizes she is attracted to this mysterious criminal. She almost felt sorry for her, but it’s her best friend’s fault for being in denial. There must be some part of her sub-conscious that’s telling Courtney that she is too indeed attracted to him.

“Do te know his name?” Bridgette asked out of the blue.

“No, I don’t, and I don’t want to know.”

Bridgette knew this was useless. She knew that Courtney had to find out on her own, and she just had to guide her. It’s the only thing she can do.

“Whatever te say. Now, let’s go visit Geoff’s apartment. I haven’t seen him in days since te started talking about your hot criminal,” Bridgette teased.

Courtney blushed. “Bridgette, that is so not funny! And he is not my hot criminal!” She paused. “Neither is he hot!”

Denial.

--

As soon as Geoff opened the door, he and Bridgette started making out, leaving Courtney uncomfortable and disgusted. It’s like they’ve never seen each other for years o something! She would never understand, so she didn't commento about it.

Courtney cleared her throat loudly.

Geoff and Bridgette immediately ceased their lip molding, and blushed. Geoff chuckled nervously.

“Hey, Mocha,” he greeted sheepishly. Ever since Courtney met Geoff, he always called her “Mocha” o “Mocha-Loca.” He’d sometimes call her “Latte” o something related to coffee. It was weird, but that was Geoff.

“Hey, Geoff,” she greeted back, smiling.

Geoff grinned. “I believe in the term ‘A greet and an embrace puts a smile on a face,’” he hinted.

Courtney laughed and hugged him. She loved Geoff almost to the point of sibling love. He was one of her best friends, and she cared about him a lot.

After that, they all sauntered to the living room, where they saw the TV mostrare Stoked. Geoff loved cartoons. They all plopped on the couch. Courtney felt weird, because she was the third-wheel. She didn’t want to intrude in Bridgette and Geoff’s time. But they wouldn’t care, because they Amore Courtney a lot—or probably because they would forget about her while making out.

“So, what’s the 411, ladies?” Geoff asked.

“Courtney met a guy,” Bridgette said, smirking.

Geoff gasped like a gay person and smiled slyly. “Oh, details, darling.”

Bridgette grimaced.

“Well, it’s not really all that important, so we shouldn’t talk about it, okay? A pervert came in through my window. End of conversation,” Courtney detto tersely.

Geoff grinned. “You met a guy! This calls for a party, Mocha! te finally like someone!” he cried happily.

Bridgette rolled her eyes at her long-time boyfriend. “Geoff, not everything calls for a party. Besides, what kind of occasion is that?”

Geoff scoffed, looking offended. “Hello, Bridge—everything does so call for a party. This is a good thing. Everybody who knows Courtney knows that she never liked anyone. Some people thought she was swinging the other way; that’s sort of hot, but weird since Courtney’s like a sista’ to me. And te should celebrate—it’ll be called ‘Courtney Finally Has a Crush, So We Should Celebrate It!’ celebration.”

Bridgette narrowed her eyes at him. Even if their relationship may be going smoothly, there are times when they fight over the little things, which causes some minor breakups. te could say they have an “on and off” relationship.

“Guys, come on—it’s just a guy. And I do not have a liking towards him! te both shouldn’t make a big deal out of my personal life. Now, let’s be happy.” With that, she put on huge smile.

Bridgette and Geoff laughed.

“Not that I mind te being here, but aren’t te supposed to be at work?” Geoff inquired.

“I asked for a one week vacation,” Courtney replied. “My mind is totally messed up right now, and I really need a break.”

“From a certain hot cri—,” Bridgette added slyly.

“Shut up, Bridge!” Courtney hissed. “Your assumptions are really irritating!”

Bridgette merely grinned, and shared knowing look with Geoff, who was also grinning.

“I like your job, Courtney; it really matches you,” Geoff detto happily.

“I think the manager’s cute,” Bridgette joked.

Geoff glared at her. “The manager’s not cute! He’s weird! Why in the world would te think that weird dude is cute?” He detto the word as if it was taboo.

Bridgette rolled her eyes. “He isn’t weird, Geoff. And he’s just so nice to everyone! Why in the world don’t te like him?”

“He stares at people, like he wants to eat them o something. His eyes are so creepy-looking, too! It’s just—I just don’t like him!”

“What, are te jealous that I think he’s cute? Geoff, I detto he was cute; I didn’t say that I liked him. It was a completely harmless commento about somebody who’s nice!”

Geoff and Bridgette continued to argue over her manager, which made Courtney exasperated and annoyed. She left the apartment inconspicuously, and headed to her apartment.

“Jeez, they act like an old married couple,” Courtney muttered.

And with a heavy sigh, she continued walking to her apartment.

--

“Trent, dude, do te think it’s…possible that I might meet Princess again?” Duncan asked, wiping the dish with a dry rag.

Trent scrubbed the dishes hard to take out the bits of Cibo off. “Probably. That’s fate’s job, Duncan. What happens, happens, okay? te just have to be patient. I don’t know, but maybe you’ll unexpectedly come across ‘Princess’ again.”

Duncan sighed heavily. “Ugh, I can’t stop thinking about her! Princess is making me crazy! Look—I’m saying cheesy things like, ‘Will I ever meet her again?’ and it’s totally pissing me off!” He accidentally broke the dish he was drying off. “Oh, Trent, man, I’m sorry. My hands were putting too much pressure on it. I’ll pay te back.”

Trent was astounded. He knew Duncan was strong, but not that strong. Wow, this Princess is sure affecting Duncan a lot, he thought.

“U-Uh, it’s okay, man. My mom was going to throw that dish away, because it seemed plain to her,” Trent assured his criminal friend.

Duncan started to clean up the mess he made. Trent told him he didn’t have to, but it was the least Duncan would do. While he cleaned, he kept muttering a string of profanities under his breath.

Suddenly they both heard the door open. It was too early for Veronica to come home. Who else had the key? Certainly not Gwen, because she felt like the key wasn’t for her to keep.

“Trent?” a deep voice called. “Trent, is that te in the kitchen?”

“Dad?” Trent called back.

A tall man walked in the kitchen, wearing a business suit. He was carrying a ventiquattrore, sincronia file and was shrugging himself out of his tie. He looked like a regular business man, and he looked deadly tired. He had Trent’s black hair. He had sullen-looking, green eyes. Duncan’s never seen Trent’s dad before.

Trent walked over and gave his dad a pat on the back. “Welcome back, Dad,” Trent greeted warmly. “I haven’t seen te in a while.”

Trent’s dad, Max, returned the pat, and laughed a deep chortle. “Same here, Son,” he replied. “I’m sorry that my boss is being so demanding and up-tight.”

Duncan couldn’t stifle the chuckle coming out of his mouth. He never knew Trent’s pops was so funny. It sort of reminded Duncan of him—except much less harsh than Duncan’s jeers.

Max looked down where Duncan was cleaning the mess he made earlier. “Are te Duncan?” he questioned.

Duncan threw away the remaining glass before replying. “Yes, I am. Are te the infamous Max?” he joked.

Max smiled. “Why, yes, I am. Veronica gushes over te a lot over the phone. I was getting a bit envious of you, though that feeling went away as soon as that the ‘cutie-man’ was just a kid.”

Duncan smirked. So Max likes to say what he thinks, eh? I like that, he thought. “Well, I always thought the ‘knight in shining armor except not that shiny’ would look a bit intimidating.” He sighed dramatically. “I guess not.”

Max laughed. “I like you, Duncan.” Then he yawned. “Sorry, boys, I gotta hit the hay. Don’t tell your mom I’m here, okay? I want to surprise her.” He left to his bedroom.

“Cool dad,” Duncan commented.

Trent smiled softly. “Yeah…he is.” Then he snapped his fingers. “Oh! I forgot to tell you! We’re holding a celebration for Gwen three days from now.”

“Uh, why?”

“Dude, it’s a welcome back commemoration for her. Geoff’ll Amore that.” Trent chuckled. “She’ll be coming back from her art class trip to Paris. I want to do something special for her.” He blushed.

Duncan smirked. “Well, okay, then, I’m game. Will there be any…alcoholic drinks?” he whispered eagerly.

Trent shook his head. “Sorry, no. I’m keeping it clean and fresh. Maybe another time, Duncan. Gwen’s not really fond of beer, remember?”

Duncan grimaced. “Man!” he whined. “But she likes wine! te can at least bring that for her!”

“Okay, then.”

Trent and Duncan walked to the living room and sat down on the sofa. Trent turned the TV on, and started looking through the channels.

“So, who’s going to the party?” Duncan asked, putting his feet on the coffee table.

“All of our close friends, like of course Geoff, you, Lindsay—”

Duncan groaned. “The ditz? Man, she always thought my name was Dylan!”

“Well, she is our friend. Let’s see…Beth—”

“The wannabe? When I first met her, she was talking non-stop about one of her old boyfriends being a punk like me. The successivo giorno I saw her, she was wearing freaking punk clothes, and it looked nasty on her!”

Trent laughed. “Well, that’s Beth, and te like her—in a way. Umm…Justin—”

“Dude, no please. He is the most conceited Ken doll I have ever met—worse than me! All he does is carry a compact mirror with him and smile at his reflection. The freak’s practically in Amore with himself!”

“In a way, he’s our friend. Hmm…DJ, Owen—” Trent stopped. “Aren’t te going to interrupt me?”

Duncan grinned. “Nah, I like Owen. He’s one of our best buds, remember? That dude is awesome. Including DJ. Go on.”

“Izzy—”

“Hell no!” Duncan yelled. “That crazy chick almost sawed off my arm at that Halloween party te threw last year! She was dressed as a murderer and was flailing around her supposedly fake saw! No freaking way is she going to be at that party.”

“I’ll bring sedatives and give them to Owen. They are dating.”

“Weird couple.”

“Nah, the weirdest couple is Leshawna and Harold.” Trent laughed. “Totally unbelievable, dude!”

Duncan joined in his laughter. “Oh yeah! That ghetto chick and that geeky nerd! I’m okay with them, but Harold is annoying to me. I like pranking him, though.”

“Who doesn’t? Okay…Bridgette—”

“Geoff’s surfer girlfriend? She’s cool. I don’t really know her, but Malibu’s a cool chick,” Duncan commented.

“And last but not least, Courtney,” Trent finished.

Duncan was confused. “Who’s Courtney?”

“You’ve never met Courtney?” Trent was shocked. “Duncan, Courtney’s like one of our best gals! te haven’t met her yet?”

Duncan shook his head. “Well, no. I’ve never seen that Courtney chick at your parties.”

“Oh, that’s right. Courtney’s not the partying type. She prefers to study. te could say she’s an overachiever. She’s a bit up-tight, but other than that, she’s an awesome friend. The most mature out of us all—well, other than Gwen, that is.”

Duncan furrowed his eyebrows. “Huh. Courtney, eh? All of us have been together for a long time, and I’ve never met this chick. That’s weird. Tell me about her.”

“Well, like I said, she’s an overachiever; always studies and pretty much never has fun. Her family is rich, but Courtney’s down-to-earth. She’s amazingly smart and is really sweet. She’s Gwen, Leshawna, Lindsay, Beth, and especially Bridgette’s best friend. She’s close to all of us, and she's practically like a sister to Geoff.”

“Geoff never mentioned about her,” Duncan mused.

“Bridgette, well, she doesn’t really trust you… That’s why she told—forced—Geoff not to tell te about her. But—but other than her trust issues with you, she likes you!” Trent sputtered.

Duncan smirked. “Malibu’s wise. Well, I wouldn’t blame her. I am a criminal. te know, I’ve only talked to her on the phone, but I’ve never seen her. Only a picture of her, though. She’s never seen a picture of me. Apparently Geoff thinks I might ‘snatch her away with my criminal claws.’”

“Girls do cerbiatto, fawn over you,” Trent pointed out.

Duncan grinned smugly. “Enough about me—for now. Back to the chick, Courtney, is she hot?”

“She’s… Well, I don’t feel comfortable calling her ‘hot.’ It’s just weird. So she’s very beautiful. She doesn’t even try. Oh, and she is strong.”

“Stronger than that rage-aholic, Eva?” Duncan joked.

“Probably.”

Duncan liked that. This Courtney chick sounds interesting.

Duncan asked, “Is she spoiled?”

“No. She doesn’t spend her time buying fancy things. She’s too focused on her future to even do girl stuff. But her parents like to buy her stuff, even though they’re annoying and pushy.”

“You mean…like a princess?” Duncan asked quietly. Princess’s face popped into his mind. Crap, he thought.

“You could say that. She’s completely the opposite of you.” Trent grinned slyly. “She has a secret, though. Something that all of us knows. She’s not good at hiding it, but she still tries to. She doesn’t want to tell anybody, because it might ruin her ‘goody-goody’ image.” He laughed.

Duncan wanted to know. “What is it?”

“You have to get to know her first and find out yourself, Duncan. Let me tell te this: it’s really surprising.”

Duncan smirked. A challenge. “I’ll find out,” he announced. “Most definitely.”

--

Oh yeah, that’s just what Courtney needed. That’s what she really needed.

She went to go back to Geoff’s apartment to see if they were okay, but this is what she saw.

Bridgette and Geoff making out on superiore, in alto of the table. Awesome.

Courtney screamed and ran out of the apartment, scaring Bridgette and Geoff.

“What the hell was that?” Geoff asked.

Bridgette shrugged. “I don’t know; probably a banshee o something.” She grabbed his face and continued making out with him.

Courtney rested against the railing just outside her apartment. That was a late reaction, she thought.

Well, it wasn’t Courtney’s fault she pictured her and that mysterious, hot criminal making out, and couldn’t help but enjoy that fantasy.

But Courtney didn’t know that.