An early day led to a headstart in work for Julian. It was a pretty slow one to begin with, only two people coming in with car troubles so far that morning. One was simple enough, a busted muffler with some other minor damage to the back from a small rear-end collission. The other one was engine troubles. Nothing that Julian hadn't done dozens, if not hundreds of times before, and thus nothing that required much time. Still, an early start led to him being completely at freedom in his workplace, and he always made the most of that.<br/><br/>From the entry room of the de Santa's mechanics shop, the quieted sound of muffled music coming from the back could be heard. Not enough to disturb anyone's activity, but if one paid close enough attention, the distinct sound of guitars and singing could be detected. Within the room, a stereo on a shelf near the door was playing a collection of 80's rock. Childhood nostalgia led to a particular taste that he kept all his life. It was catchy and uplifting, perfect for making a work day more fun.<br/><br/>Julian himself was hard at work, humming to the tune of the song's opening while underneath the first car on a sliding board. As a busted pipe on the underside of the car was taken off, he began to sing along. Badly. While he could play an instrument, his vocal cords were instruments not. Picking up as the second chorus began, he kicked himself out from under the car, sliding along with the ruined metal under his arm.<span style="font-style: italic">"When all hell's breakin' loose, you'll be ridin' the eye of the storm!"</span>He blurted out, stopping himself after he was away from the car. The board he had been laying on kept going, stopping as it nudged the bottom of a shelf holding multiple toolboxes.<br/><br/>As he was about to continue singing, his radio suddenly turned off.<span style="font-style: italic">"You got the heart! You got the-</span>..." He stood open-mouthed for a moment, as if he suddenly realized how awful he sounded without the song proper in the background keeping him muffled. Closing his jaw, he turned to look at the radio, and caught sight of the worker that Jason had rudely made an introduction to next to it, finger on the now-deactivated power button.<br/><br/>"Hey, boss," The worker said, waving a little with his other hand.<br/><br/>"Ey boss," Julian immediately responded. He put the busted exhaust pipe down on a tabletop nearby, and picked up a rag in its stead. It was used to clean off his hands and forehead, then draped casually over his shoulder. "What's up?"<br/><br/>"Someone up front wants to talk to you. That dude from the bike shop, you know?"<br/><br/>"Uh-huh. A'ight. Let's see what Harley's got for us." Julian rolled his shoulders as he walked forward, emerging from the workshop to the front desk. Out there, he took sight of three things. Jason, a known competitor. Father Rafael, another one of their customers for the day. And outside, Miguel's old car, pulling up into a parking space.<span style="font-style: italic">"Good timing,"</span>he thought to himself, leaning slightly forward onto the desk. To both Jason and Rafael, he issued a fairly standard greeting.<br/><br/>"Morning, fellas. Anything I can help ya with today?"