A curse rang through the air as Derek stumbled, the wind knocking him over as he scrambled to catch his umbrella. He managed to grab a hold of the pole but as he was thrown off balance his face hit the concrete, his lip piercing not helping with the harsh bite. He heard a snap and sitting up in the dingy alleyway he realized that, despite his efforts at saving it, he had broken his umbrella. The situation was very fitting for the week he was having.<br/><br/>Let's back track a little. Derek was a man who was used to everything going his way. From the very moment he was born he'd had the privilege of living in the lap of luxury. At 23 years old his mantra had always been, "I'm not here for a long time, but a good one," And oh boy, did he<i>live</i>by that. He had the most expensive cars, the latest in fashion, food, service, parties! Everything right at the click of his fingers and the swipe of his credit card! He couldn't count the number of times he'd gone to a club on a Tuesday and woke up not knowing what had ever happened on a Saturday. And college? He couldn't get through it, he was so busy living it up in his fraternity that he didn't even get past the first year. It had always been that way and it always would be! Or at least, that's what he had thought until about seven days ago.<br/><br/>He hadn't suspected a thing when his father and mother had demanded to speak to them. He figured another extravagant family trip was in the works but no...oh no, it was far worse then he could have imagined. They pulled the plug. Hard. Derek felt as if them hitting him with a bus would have been a better fate. They cut up every single one of his credits cards.<br/><br/>"No more frivolous spending! Your habits are out of control!" They had exclaimed. His cars were taken away, his bank account was gutted, and they dictated what possessions he got to keep. He couldn't do anything about it either! He'd had no authority over what they deemed necessary for him, after all, it wasn't like<i>he </i>had bought any of it.<br/><br/>They gave him the bare-bones amount of help too. Here he was, in a tiny one bedroom apartment on the shoddy side of town that they had picked out for him. After the deposit they gave just under 200$ to last him and stated that this was the only a mount of money he'd ever get from them until he learned to help himself. Now he was here, going in to his first ever job and bleeding at the back door.<br/><br/>Derek picked himself up, wincing as he wiped his bloody lip and glaring at the crimson on his hand. He gave another curse, viciously throwing his umbrella into the open dumpster while simultaneously kicking it and opening the heavy back door to the kitchen. He had been given a very short tour of the back area of the restaurant but he couldn't remember much. The man looked very lost as he hung up his jacket, trying to fix his now soaked hair. He took pride in his looks but he sort of looked like a train wreck right now. His dark, curly hair resembled the end of a mop at the moment and the piercing on his lip was bleeding from crashing into the asphalt. There were bags under his eyes and the small gauges he wore, while not against dress code, could have raised some eyebrows if the person was judgmental enough.<br/><br/>Derek rubbed the back of his neck, his body sore from sleeping on a shitty bed. He looked around, approaching a server that he recognized vaguely.<br/><br/>"Um, hey, I'm supposed to like...be here for my first day of work? I don't really know what to do..."<br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="358" data-username="@BlackRoses" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/358/">@BlackRoses</a>