<div class="floatleft">(http://www.mediafire.com/convkey/1d8f/4o4446e4utvsst9zg.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Miguel Fernando Ángel Del Bosque<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Kensington/by Apt. 201<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Tanner Macklemore<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Casual meeting, conversation -<em>for the foreign language mouse over the text, please!</em><br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>See here (http://www.mediafire.com/convkey/a88d/99vb8p12ywq3wu6zg.jpg). A black leather jacket, black leather boots.<br/><hr/><br/>Miguel had moved in his new apartment just recently. In fact - it was recent enough for quite some moving boxes still making their home in the entrance space of his apartment, just behind the door. He didn't have the time, yet, to get it all sorted out. There was this case that kept him busy these days, some nasty discrimination stuff at the workplace of this poor, young woman. Since her colleagues had found out that she was born male, there had been shit coming her way from all sides, and then she contacted and hired Miguel, because he was known to take such cases and rip idiots a new one on a regular basis. Bigots were his speciality, really. And thus, the unpacking and many other things (like, you know, a life) had suffered quite some as of late. Ah well, wasn't that important, right? Miguel always had been a hard worker, and he loved what he was doing. And, living here now, in the heart of the community was quite exciting. Not only has it a lot closer to the company he was working at, it also might as well bring him one or the other more client, or a friend. One couldn't have enough of those. Friends, that was. Clients, he had plenty. Especially after his popularity had risen some, after he decided to dabble into politics for the local, left wing Democrats.<br/><br/>However, now, Miguel was at the door, three brown paper bags balanced haphazardly in one hand, his other hand digging through various pockets on his wardrobe, in an attempt to find his apartment keys. He grunted softly when he didn't find them in one pocket, and so, the next one was searched through, and, in this process, he must have touched the doorbell of his neighbours door, more than likely with his elbow, without even noticing it properly. Blame it on the black IPhone that was held between his shoulder and his head, and he was babbling away in rapid Spanish, probably with his mother or another member of his family. Whatever.<acronym title="Yes, yes mom. No, I am not done yet. Don't give me that, alright? I am too busy for that, okay?"><em> "Sí, sí mamá. No, no he terminado todavía. No me vengas con eso, ¿de acuerdo? Estoy demasiado ocupado para eso, ¿de acuerdo?"</em></acronym>he said, chuckling softly while he listened to whatever reply. Yes, his mother. Always worrying that her son worked too much, slept too less, ate too less and god knows what else, too. Of course that woman worried herself silly, all the damn time, no less. Never had been any different, that. She was his mother, for gods sake and family was quite important. More than anything, in fact.<br/><br/>He was digging through another pocket, when the door was opened and Tanner looked out, and instantly, Miguel knew that it was him. Ringing on that door with his damn elbow or something.<acronym title="Listen mom, I have to cut it, okay. I love you, talk later. Bye!"><em>"Escucha mamá, tengo que cortar, está bien. Te amo, hablo más tarde. Adiós!"</em></acronym>he said, and then he instantly offered the man an apologetic smile.<em>"I'm so sorry. I know it's late and I am sorry. I must have...."</em>he said, and then he lifted his arm, with a chuckle. Indicating that it must have been his arm, accidentially hitting that damn doorbell.<em>"Dios mío. I did not wake you, did I? If I did, I apologize Mr...."</em>and he trailed off for a moment. Yeah, shit. Names. He heard so many during a long day at work.<em>Too </em>many, at times. Miguel furrowed a brow for a moment, but then he actually had to smile. Yes, silly him, huh? Ah well, people forgot names, at times. Who said one couldn't introduce twice?<br/><br/>He finally found his keys, but he left them in his pocket for now, because he held out his free hand towards Tanner.<em>"Hola. I'm Miguel.  Miguel Fernando Ángel Del Bosque. Just call me Miguel, or Ángel. Whatever works for you. It's a pleasure, again."</em>he said, laughing softly.<em>"I'm sorry."</em>Yes, what a name, huh? Rolling off of his tongue like only a native speaker could pull it. Most others butchered it in the most terrible ways. Ah well, there was worse. A name was a name, right? However, Miguel seemed to be a very polite and friendly person.