Before the Storm

The casino never closed. There was a reason people lost themselves in such places, losing their sense of time. After all, people had to lose their sense of time, before they lost sense of money, that was what the manager said. However, even though players and clients could go 24/7, employees could not tolerate such long hours. They were still living beings, after all. Despite that, they all wore the same clothing, and looked similar in appearance, and with enough alcohol, it was difficult for a customer to realise the dealer had changed at all.

Check walked out from the main floor, pausing at the changing room, taking off his bright red vest and dropping it off for the laundry, now drenched with sweat and alcohol spilt from his customers, quickly followed by his white shirt in the same state. He turned to his locker on the opposite side of the corridor, effortlessly keying in his number, opening the door and taking out an old, baggy hoodie, pulling it on with a sigh. He heard a loud noise from the room beside it. 

The ‘Debt’ room, as it was called. 

He heard a few grunts and shouts, before the room quietened down a bit.

“A feisty one?” A voice sounded from behind him. C801 turned, seeing a brown bean walk towards him with a casual smile, and a case in hand. A messenger. 

“They always are.” C801 replied, “Messenger?” 

“Yes. M6, or just Mix.” 

“C801, Check, as in, Checkmate.” 

“A fitting name.” Mix complimented, then noticing he was in casual attire, he asked, “Just finished your shift?” 

“Yeah, had a busy night.” Check nodded.

“I reckon, you look like shit.” Mix said, noticing a slight wince from Check who quickly took at a look at himself. 

“That bad, huh?” 

“You’ll get used to it. You new here?” 

“Yeah.” Check wasn’t that open to talking about his past jobs, and so he left the question at that. Mix did not seem interested enough to pry further either. For a moment, Check thought about asking about this ‘messenger’ work he had heard about, but then again, he wasn’t interested enough either. 

Mix, however, spoke up once again before Check could take a step away, “Any idea who the unlucky target is?”

“Someone who doesn’t know his highs and lows.” Check shrugged, “And apparently neither does he know when to stop either.” 

“Your client?”

“Hm.” Check nodded. 

“Ah.” Mix smirked. He then turned to look at the door, as if he heard sound from the other side, and a moment later it opened. Another employee at the casino, still his brilliant red vest brought out an identical case, swapping it with his, before signing a few documents to confirm the swap, before returning into the room. 

“What’s the delivery?” Check asked. Mix only smiled in response; each delivery was classified, and he would rather keep it that way. Check shrugged upon realising that he would not be getting a response from the brown bean. 

Mix smiled anyway, “I’d love to spend a bit more time talking, but you look sleep deprived, and I have places to be.” 

Check wasn’t sure whether that was his way of saying ‘get lost’, or whether he was truly looking grim. Regardless, he wasn’t exactly a social bean, and decided that this was enough encounter for the day. He waved, then walked down the stairs. He heard Mix leave through the backdoor, which slammed as it closed from lack of a door stopper. The underground floor of the casino had been converted to the living area for employees. Of course, some chose to stay in apartments nearby where it was more roomy, with better airflow. However, Check was tight on money - he’d take free accommodation anytime. The room was quiet enough to sleep, though noise still seeped through from the floor above, and sometimes the walls shook when someone danced too strongly. Currently, only two employees lived here, and they worked different shifts which meant he pretty much owned the place. He had a quick, warm shower in the shared bathroom, and changed into soft pyjamas he had managed to buy with his income. 

It was a shady job, but it gave him a good life. 

That’s all that mattered. 

His room wasn’t large - just a single bed room, a small desk by the side, and a small drawer for his clothes at the foot of his bed. There was still a little bit of space to the side, but for now Check had kept it empty - as space made the place look larger. He set his alarm for 4pm, which would give him a solid 8 hours of sleep.

Sleep on a soft bed.

A good sleep.

What else could he ask for in life?