Don't Break The Rules

Chapter 9 - Sketchy

"You look all dressed up."

Joe glanced over his shoulder, the familiar voice catching his attention and he felt a robust palm grip his shoulder. "I haven't seen you in this sort of clothing in forev..." His friend's attention diverted and Joe raised a confused eyebrow when he felt his friend's fingers pinch the fabric of his sweater, surprised by its delicacy. "Wait a second." He gripped Joe's shoulder and twirled him, reached for his tag and almost choked on his own saliva when he saw the brand. "Woah!"

Joe still didn't understand why his friend's entire face had wrinkled. "What?"

"That sweater alone," he pointed towards Joe, shaking his head before bringing the rim of his glass to his lips, "it's twenty-four hundred."

"Twenty-four..." He was breathless, unable to believe Jamie would risk having such an expensive sweater ruined.

His friend nodded his head. "DeVinci Balangua. One of the top brands in the world. And that sweater was limited edition, only a hundred people in the whole world got it and most of them were celebrities." When he noticed the way Joe's eyes became focused, eyeing the floor with his finger on his chin, that was when he realized why Joe was terribly confused. "Don't tell me you've never heard of that brand."

"Listen Fred, to be fair, I was never into expensive clothings in general."

Fred shook his head, landing his glass cup against the counter and tilting his head. Fred was the only real friend Joe had. They had met four years ago in this bar. Joe had gotten into an argument with a random stranger who had stolen one of his drinks, and the stranger lifted his fists to start a fight. It was Fred who diffused the situation, being a regular as well, and he defended Joe as he had seen him around numerous times. From there, their friendship blossomed to the point that when Joe needed a place to stay some nights, given that his wife Marisa wasn't home, he would warmly welcome him.

Fred had worked as a private repairman, being hired for different homes whenever there was an issue. Strangely enough, he never seemed to work but always had an abundance of money although one could never tell with him. He wore practically the same shirt and sweats every day and could always be found at this bar at five of the afternoon. Drinking was also his specialty and being a husband was never his strongest suit. All he wanted was to stay out of the home where he couldn't be degraded for every single tiny mistakes, but he was convinced he loved her.

He was the one that gave Joe most of his advice and most of the time he was right. He told Joe to get himself together or else Morning's would fire him if he didn't let go of the loneliness, but Joe failed to listen and eventually was kicked out of the job.

Fred sent a few fingers through his hair, exhaling a long sigh as he was not approving of what he heard. "Where did you get the money for that?"

"I didn't," Joe mumbled embarrassingly, but his attention shifted when he heard the phone in his pocket buzz. When he retrieved it, eyeing the message that had been sent to him, he swallowed hard when he realized it was Jamie who had texted him, "Who is that guy?"

"Woah!" Fred's shout caused a few eyes to glance their way and Joe rapidly looked around, unsure why he had yelled.

"What?" He panicked.

Fred couldn't help but chug his drink before placing the empty glass on the counter. All his attention had to be on Joe, and he placed his palms on his hips as he shook his head, exhaled a long strident breath.

"Joe, I'm asking you this once and one time only." His tone had lowered into a deeper tune, a sudden raspiness as if he struggled to maintain his breathing and one of his palms reached Joe's shoulders and squeezed. His eyes had gotten somber, unable even to see his eyelids from how much his eyebrows furrowed and he held a long gaze with Joe. "Are you dealing drugs?"

"What?!" Joe burst into a series of laughter, even leaning forward to slam his palm against his knee, his other had gripping his cramping abdomen as he couldn't stop himself from the laugh.

Fred did not find this funny though, folding his arms over his chest and tapping one of this heels. "I'm being serious."

"I'm sorry," Joe muffled between giggles, wiping the tears that had leaked on his cheeks. Dealing drugs had never even crossed his mind; he wasn't one to even do drugs. The look on Fred's face had been one of a disappointed father, which he couldn't stop chuckling whenever the thought of it. "Of course I'm not dealing drugs Fred!"

"Then explain all these expensive stuff out of nowhere!" Fred almost yelled, instantly noticing a series of heads had turned and wrapping an arm around Joe's shoulders, pulling him further from the nearby crowd. "That cellphone is the new R.E; alone its two grand."

Joe nodded his head. "I know it's expensive."

"But you didn't know about your sweater; it makes me wonder about your other things. Do you know how much the chain was worth or the watch?" When Joe glanced down at his attire, realizing that he had no idea how much anything he was wearing was worth, Fred pulled him tighter. "You don't have to tell me what you're doing but it better be safe Joe."

"I have a job! I promise it's not weird Fred." Joe chuckled quietly but then he remembered the set of rules and his smile became crooked. "Well, maybe a little weird..."

"And what job is that?"

He wasn't sure if he wanted to admit it since he hadn't heard of anyone else in his entourage doing something similar. Fred though was never one to judge, which was why he sighed, itching the side of his face as he mumbled, "I'm a housemaid."

At first, he was too flustered to even look at Fred's face. But when he heard a snicker, he glanced towards him and saw a smirk playing on his lips. "And who are you being a housemaid for?"

Joe couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, pushing Fred's arm away as he observed Jamie roll his sleeves and sit at a table. His hair had gotten a bit more disheveled throughout the night, worsening when he slammed his elbow against the table. A bright smile spread his lips as he lifted his hand and shouted, "Alright, which one of you posers are next? You all keep challenging me and losing every time!" He heard the crowd roar and Jamie exploded into laughter, pointing to one of this friends that were complaining about his victories.

During that time, Jamie's eyes turned to them, noticing that they were both staring at him and making it pretty obvious. It didn't help that Fred rapidly tugged Joe to the side when that happened, forcing their gazes to break.

"Your his housemaid?" Fred screeched through a whisper, noticing the way Joe's eyes seemed daze for a second before focusing on Fred's. "He's a damn bartender, how can you be his housemaid?"

Joe shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't ask where he makes his money but..." he leaned forward with a smirk, "he pays me six hundred a week."

"Joe," Fred shook his head, a strident laughter escaping his lips as he lifted his eyes towards the ceiling for a long exhale. "You can't possibly think this isn't sketchy." He snorted, thinking that Joe must be an absolute i***t to even consider that position. He glanced towards Jamie again smashed one of his friends' hand on the table, throwing his hands in the air as he declared his next arm wrestling victory. There was an odd vibe he sensed from Jamie. By his mere look, his persona seemed to be almost a facade.

"He's giving me a place to stay, everything is handed free and he pays me to work there." Joe sighed, knowing that it sounded much worse than it seemed but it had helped him thus far. "It's not as bad as you think."

"You live with him?!" When Joe slowly nodded his head, he watched as Fred slammed his palm against his own forehead, vigorously shaking his head. "That's how people end up murdered Joe. You can't trust people this easily." He lifted his eyes, Joe noticing how narrowed they were with worry. "He could be a psychopath for all we know."

Joe snorted. "He's not a psychopath."

"Well what do you know about this guy?"

That caused Joe to pause; he didn't really know much about Jamie. He knew he worked as a bartender and left for school every morning. Also that he had an unrelated brother when he was much younger, but nothing about his life to confirm that he wasn't perhaps a murderer. He waved his hand dismissively, not wanting to assume all these things just because Jamie hadn't opened up yet; he was sure it was all about time and eventually Jamie would reveal more of his truth.

"He's a good guy Fred," Joe murmured dismissively. "Trust me. Look at me," he motioned towards his attire before pointing to his face, "I'm actually happy. I'll be fine."

Although Fred wished he could talk some sense into Joe, he also trusted that Joe knew what he was getting himself into. After a few seconds, he decided to return his focus on his drinks as he waved for the bartender, ordering two glass cups of booze for the both of them. "All I'm saying Joe," he sighed while handing to bills to the bartender, "That sounds terribly perfect that if someone said that to me, I'd think it was a scam." Although he tried to hide them, wrinkles formed from the worry he felt. "Regardless of which way you look at it Joe, this whole arrangement is bizarre."

"I know it seems that way," Joe replied, accepting the glass cup of booze with a nod. "But so far, it's been good so I don't want to ruin it for no reason.

Fred took a sip of his drink from the counter. "You should just be careful with him. I don't know...I feel something off from all of this—"

"From all of what?"

Both of them felt their hearts drop when they heard his tone; it had been much too lighthearted that Fred could almost hear some demonic hissing as an undertone. Fred, who had been leaned over the counter to drink his beer, felt a shudder on his shoulders as he slowly turned his head, facing the swinging blue gaze that did not seem friendly whatsoever.

Jamie raised an eyebrow and smiled. "What are you two chatting about?"