Message Received

Bishop blew smoke from the corner of his mouth as he ran his fingers through his hair. It’d been a long day. He wasn’t sure who had sent the kid but they sure as hell were trying to send a message to the mobster. Perhaps it’d been a rival gang or another club maybe. But he sure as hell didn’t want to piss off whoever it was. His club made him far too much money to risk someone retailitating because he didn’t properly respect their gift. 

He took another long drag of his cigarette; he’d already blown through nearly two packs since the kid had arrived. He wasn’t sure what exactly to do with him but he’d already given the orders to have him put up with Helios for the time being. He knew the dancer wouldn’t like it but he’d have to get over it. Besides, he listened to Mercer. He’d behave if he told him to. 

He texted his contacts, having a small apartment upstairs from the club cleaned out and prepared for the kid. It’d be a few days before it was ready so he’d have to stay at the club until then. It wasn’t the best situation but it’s what he could do on such short notice. Bishop decided as well that he would stay in his office for a few nights so the kid wouldn’t be alone in the club but he’d be sure to give him his space.

When he’d found him in the back alley behind the club he’d been battered and shaking in fear with a note addressed to Bishop himself. He swore to him that he hadn’t read the note but Bishop didn’t care either way. All it had said was to enjoy the gift and gave the boy’s name; Mikita Chaban. 

He helped him up and into the club, immediately taking him into the back washroom and gently tending to his busted lip and other little scratches. 

The club had closed for the night and the last of the employees had just left when Bishop found him. He’d been locking up when he noticed the tiny, shaking form curled up on the back doorstep. So Bishop had to take care of him himself that first night. 

And now it was nearly time for the club to open again the employees were starting to make their way in. He hadn’t gotten any sleep and now that he’d gotten a moment’s reprieve on the roof of the building it was starting to catch up to him. His shoulders were slumped and his eyelids felt heavy. What he wouldn’t give just to lay down for a while. 

He sighed, stubbing out his cigarette and blowing the last of the smoke out of his nose. He still had his responsibilities to take care of and he wouldn’t let the situation at hand throw him off of his game; he was sure that was part of the motive for dropping the kid off at his doorstep. Tonight he had a big customer coming through expecting a hefty shipment of drugs and Bishop had to be sure the deal went down smoothly. 

He headed back down and into the club, moving to his office where the kid had been staying until he could get one of the other rooms ready for him. 

He was curled up on the sofa in the corner of the room, a blanket wrapped tightly around his small form. He jumped a bit as Bishop unlocked the door and entered but visibly relaxed when he realized who it was. Bishop dropped a plastic bag with some snacks he’d grabbed before heading to the roof for a smoke onto his desk. “I wasn’t sure what you liked. I hope these are okay.” He told him, referring to the things he’d bought. “I’m having an apartment set up for you upstairs. I own this whole building; the club and the apartment complex above it.” He explained.

Mikita nodded, his dark eyes watching Bishop carefully for his position on the sofa. “Thank you but I… I can’t pay for it..” he protested, his voice cracking a bit from the past day’s trauma. 

Bishop waved a hand. “Don’t worry about that. For now it’s on me.” He told him, slumping down into his desk chair and lighting another cigarette. “We’ll talk about payment later. I figure you can work for me here. After you’ve recovered.” 

His eyes widened for a moment but quickly nodded, clearly not wanting to question him. They’d likely beat that into him; his submission and respect for authority. 

“For now I want you to relax. I’m gonna have one of our private rooms here fixed up a bit for you to stay in while the apartment is being prepared.” He told him, blowing out smoke between sentences. “That’ll give you a little space. I’ll be staying here too until then so you won’t be alone.”

He nodded again, watching Bishop’s every move carefully. 

“You're allowed to speak freely here.” He finally told him, flicking the end of his cigarette into the ashtray on his desk. “I don’t know what they told you but I’m not going to hurt you; quite the opposite. You’re going to be taken care of now and while you work for me. If you have any problems you can come to me and I’ll take care of it.”

He watched quietly for a moment, calculating whether or not it was actually safe for him to speak freely like Bishop had said. He finally decided to take the chance. “Thank you, sir. I… I appreciate it. I’m going to do my best for you.”

Bishop chuckled and waved him off. “Don’t worry about that. For now you need to worry about taking care of yourself first.” He told him, taking another drag of his cigarette. “My name is Judas Bishop, by the way. Most people call me Bishop. And I already know your name… but is there anything you’d prefer to be called?”

He smiled softly up at the man, shifting to sit up with the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. “Miki.” He answered. “My name is Miki.”