Title is that bc im too lazy to think one up

"My son doesn't do anything around the house." Jess says into the phone, sighing long and loud enough for anyone within the house to hear, even through the sound-proofed walls. She's sitting reclined up on a leather recliner, cup of cold coffee sitting beside the chair on a green-colored end table, forgotten. She turns her head to the side and tosses the brightly colored wrapper of the snack she had just eaten to the floor, uncaring. "He doesn't listen when I ask him to do chores, his room is a mess and - ugh - don't even let me talk about what he does all day."

Jackson rolls his eyes. It's the same talk she gives out when a new acquaintance asks of her children. Jess - Jackson's mother - had three children, Nathaniel, Jackson, and Emily. Emily had been sent off to a private school in Germany, while Nathaniel was just gone; He had run off as soon as he turned of age, and never called, or wrote letters. Heck, Nathaniel could be dead for all Jackson knew, which was a disheartening thought in and of itself. His mother loved his siblings, and so did he.

He wasn't angry at his siblings, really, it was just so hard knowing that Emily got to go to all these concerts, and buy all these expensive things, and Nathaniel's pictures were practically shoved in Jackson's face, while Jackson wasn't even allowed a new pair of shoes, and his pictures usually shoved at the bottom of an old, dusty box in the forgotten rental storage Jess had left in Chicago when the family of three had moved to Burgess two years ago.

He wasn't angry; he couldn't be, with how much he loved his family. He was just...a bit disappointed in how things were, that was all.

Going to pick up the wrapper Jess had thrown a moment before; he reaches over to pet their lazy cat, Moxy. She was just hitting ten years old, the granny time to cats, and if the box full of cat toys didn't show it, her large belly would tell anyone she was well loved, and spoiled for it.

Moxy lifts her head up and winks at him a few times, purring softly at the teenager. Jackson knew he was one of her favorite humans, and even though cats couldn't speak, he practically knew what Moxy would say if she could. It'd probably be somewhere along the lines of 'I love you child here's a dead mouse to prove it' or 'why is the female so noisy'. The thoughts make him giggle inwardly, as he gives the cat a lopsided smile, before standing back up to toss the litter where it belonged; in Jess' boots.

Yes, it was childish, and yes technically he's only spurring on his mother's distaste of him, but she shouldn't have given him a 'weapon' in the first place. Also her boots had been riddled in mud as Jess had walked in last night. She walked all the way upstairs, tracking the slimy grossness everywhere. Jackson, of course, was the one who had to clean it up, sadly, because 'it was your prescriptions I had to pick up so you have to clean it' seemed to be a valid-ish argument, right?

Whatever. Even if Jess didn't argue he would still be forced to clean it up.

The mere thought of picking up after his own mother a few years ago used to make his blood boil and he'd resorted to screaming bloody murder into a stuffed animal, or running circles around the house just to get the steam off enough to focus on his given chore, instead of remaining angry. If his mother even thought he was angry she'd only give him more things to do, and as every school-monger knows, chores really take up a lot of free time from homework and studying and slacking off and...yeah.

That was a few years ago, though. Now he just figured everyone's parents put them down like that. That was probably why Nathaniel left, and Emily begged to go to Germany. Parents must degrade their children so their kids might find out how rough life is or something dumb like that, right? Jackson nods at the trash can, pretending the little plastic bin had read his thoughts and agreed with him. He didn't have friends, so he just had to make do with his thoughts and his cat.

"Jackson isn't the best person to leave with your son. You could always try Nicholas. He is such a nice child, always working, and he even knows how to cook!" the woman on the phone laughs, while Jackson makes his way to his fat-and-happy cat, picking her up under the armpits like one would pick up a child.

He turns to Jess, holding his cat like how one would hold a baby while rocking them to sleep. Moxy didn't mind at all, and she even enjoyed being carried around like that all the time. Jackson wonders if it's because Moxy just likes looking at the ceiling or something.

"I'm going to my room." he tells the woman, but remains where he is.

"Hm, what was that?" Jess ignores him for a moment, scratching at her neck, listening to whoever she was talking to. "Oh, no. No he's right here, but I don't think he'd want to talk to you. He's really grumpy when it comes to people."

"Mom." Jackson frowns at being ignored, but remains where he is. He looks down to his fluffy friend in his arms, and they both share a look with one another.

"Oh is that so? Well, I don't think so. Jackson hates art. I don't even think gardening is something he'd get off the couch to do."

The teenager hugs Moxy a little closer, and narrows his eyes at the bottom of the recliner, sending a hateful look down to the floor. Jess, unknowing or just uncaring of him sits up straight and laughs.

"Of course! Maybe you can knock some sense into him." Jess giggles. "I'm leaving in a few days to join Emily at the Dia Tsu concert, and I don't have the money to bring Jackson also, so if would be nice!"

"Wait - wait, what?" Jackson accidentally lets his grip loosen, and Moxy jumps up so she was hugging his shoulder instead of being dropped to the floor. Jess' eyes are now on him, as she hums into the phone. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Jess waves her hand up and down in a dismissal, like she was only swatting at a fly. "Are you sure? I mean he could use the Guest bedroom, but I'm not too sure how Jackson would take this."

Liar. She knew exactly how he'd take this.

He hadn't seen his sister - his beautiful baby sister - in a good year and a half, nor has he ever talked to her on the phone and he didn't own a good enough computer for skype or any chats. Jess knew he missed his sister, and Jackson knew that Jess had plenty of money from when her brother had died and she sold off his stuff.

Biting his lip, he tries to suck in the frustrated tears. Maybe with Jess gone he'd have himself a vacation, too. Even if it were at home, and he would be alone with his furry friend. Cats were enough company, right? Cats didn't lie about you and they didn't give you any trouble besides a full litter box and an empty water bowl mostly.

But then again Moxy could never replace his sister. And as he thought of that his heart feels like someone just grabbed onto it and twisted.

"Alright, then. I'm leaving Friday, but you can always send him this way on Thursday so I can give him a few pointers. How about I meet him at the Wendys downtown on Thursday for that?" Jess asks, twirling a strand of her hair on her index finger. "Jackson is very difficult, you see. Bipolar or something. I just want him to be prepared."

Moxy yowls quietly at the teenager still holding her, expecting to be carried up into Jackson's room like always around this time. Jackson gives his friend a small frown, and goes to set her down onto the unused coffee table, whispering a 'just wait for me' to her in reassurance. He runs his fingers through the fur on her head to calm her down for a moment.

"Who's to be prepared? Who are you meeting?" Jackson asks, and Jess hurriedly says something into the phone before covering the ear piece of it, and giving him a glare.

"Shut up, it's one of your business, Teufel." Jess hisses at him, before going beck to her previous conversation, face turning back into the brightful cheer it was a few minutes ago as she talked to her friend.

The teenager feels something coil in his stomach at that.

His mother thought he hadn't bothered to learn German. He didn't know a lot of German per say, but he did know what she called him when she was angry at him. Devil. Teufel. It hurt him to know his own mother called him such a thing, but what hurt the most was the thought of never seeing his sister, or having his sister influenced by his own mother to call him things as well. Would Emily really shout and yell at him like that, too? He hopes not.

Being told it wasn't his problem...it also hurt, too, because it was his problem. Was she leaving him alone with a - with a stranger?! Was she out of her mind? Jackson didn't need a babysitter - he was sixteen for heavens sake! All you really needed to do was show up to see if he were alive! He could take care of himself!

Or, well...he thinks he can take care of himself. He knows how to cook most things, and he also does some grocery shopping, so all he'd need is a twenty or two depending on how long Jess would be gone.

Though…he thinks she may be gone for a really, really long time, depending on how much money she had taken.

He's pulled from his thoughts quickly, as the sound of a phone slamming back on its receiver reaches his ears. Moxy, startled, jumps off the little table she was sat upon to storm her way upstairs with a distinguishable 'plomp, tomp, tomp'. Knowing that feline, she'd be waiting by the attic entrance for him; his room being the attic, of course.

Jackson blinks as the woman across from him sends him another look and huffs at him in disgust.

"I'm leaving Friday; someone will be here to watch you. Don't shit this up or when I come back you won't see the light of day, you hear me?" she nearly hisses out. Hissing. Never thought a human was actually capable of doing so while talking, and sounding murderous no less. Jackson wonders if he should use the 3D printer at his school to make her a badge or something for achieving that.

The woman stands to her full height, towering over Jackson, surprisingly enough. People would say she was a short woman if she were in public with her friends, but with Jackson she was tall. He doesn't remember how tall he was anymore, but he does know that woman in front of him could give his English teacher a run for his money if they ever met.

She then throws up her hands, causing Jackson to flinch at the movement. She groans out a long, frustrated groan, as if the whole ordeal were a frustrating marathon that she had to run, only to be blocked off from the finish line.

Jess stomps her ways upstairs, the noise ricocheting off the walls even if the house were sound-proofed.

The teenager doesn't know why he flinched - his mother hadn't hit him in a very long time - but considers it some kind of reflex. Moxy meows from upstairs, most likely calling for her favored human so he could open the door for her and carry her to bed or something. God he loved that cat.

He is just about to walk up the stairs when he looks at the state the recliner is in - crumbs all over the leather, while a pillow had been sat on, pushing down the inside of the chair. The cold coffee thankfully didn't spill at Jess' outraged movements, and for that Jackson could only sigh in relief. The woman had the recliner so far to the left it was rubbing against the end table the cup sat on, so it was a very close call.

Moxy is looking down at him from the top of the stair case, whiskers twitching in either impatience or worry, and Jackson could only give her a small smile of his. "Sorry, just a little longer, okay?" he whispers loud enough so only he and the feline could hear what was said. The cat's ears point his way, indicating he was heard.

He turns back around, and grabs a few tissues from the end table, trying to wipe up the crumbs quickly, as he had to get ready for work soon, and the messes weren't helping all that much.

The pillow is wedged down into the seat like the bottom brick of a courthouse. It takes both hands, and a lot of tugging and twisting just to pull out the fluffy pink ball-like thing from its leather cage. He doesn't even remember how it got here, since a lot of Jess' friends would only bring her to the movies or something, or buy her jewelry for her birthday. Perhaps it was something left behind by Emily. He should ask some day if they ever met up again.

Just as he is carrying the full napkin of crumbs to the trash, Moxy quickly trots behind him eagerly, looking for attention in the way of rubbing around the teen's legs and purring, nearly tripping him. Instead of chastising her or telling her to stop, though, he only laughs at her antics, tossing the napkin into the bin and scooping her up with a chuckle at how she looked at him, as if to say, 'human. Room. Now. I demand rest.'

"Okay, okay, I'm going now." he murmurs to his cat, hugging her as she clings to his shoulder. He goes to trudge back up the stairway. "You big fatty, one of these days you'll be too fat to carry. I'd have to buy a little wagon or something." he jokes.

Once he reaches the ladder to the attic, he pulls the string down on the 'door', pulling out the climbing device, and makes his way up, cat still firmly held in one arm as he expertly climbs the contraption, unafraid at how it wiggles on his way up. Climbing with one arm was probably one of his many, many weird traits, but he blames his cat, who both loves and hates to climb up the ladder. Today was probably one of those 'hate climbing' days for Moxy, so he didn't waste any time waiting for her to pull her own blubber up.

His room - or, well, the attic - is painted white, and there are dark blue sharpie markings of snowflakes he had made back when he had first moved into the 'room'. The room, despite being an attic was rather nice. It was quite larger than his mother's room, since it spanned nearly the whole width of the house without any walls separating any bit of it. There was an old desk someone had given to Jess sitting beside the wall, with an old computer from the early 2000's sitting there, monitor having a large crack in the screen from an accident with a book.

His bed, which was more like a couch that folded out sat near the window, the sun's last rays of light splaying invitingly to the mattress, as the sun set. He should be in bed right now, really, but his mother had made him take a job that required a late night at least once a week. The bed could wait for him.

There was also a dresser with a bookshelf packed full of books to the point where books were horizontal on top of other books, Like some kind of large book orgy Jackson really didn't want to know about. He loved books a lot, and never bothered to go through them to see if there were any he could give away, since he'd eventually reread them all again if he did so, like the last time he tried. The dresser, a brownish yellow, was empty save for a few outfits. He usually has to remind himself to sneak some of his paycheck from Jess' stash, but never got around to it. Maybe the woman will let him cash his own check when she leaves, so he could have something to buy groceries with. That'd be nice, for once. The woman always took about eighty percent of the money he makes, so it'd be really, really nice.

Moxy mews at him as he stands there, getting into the familiar feel of the room. There were some scratches along the wall by the bed, and some dents here and there from his old rage-sessions, but that was pretty much over. He was glad, too. That used to get him into so much trouble. He blames stupid teenager hormones and the fact he had no friends.

Setting the cat down, he goes to the dresser to pick out his outfit for tonight. He worked at a kind-of diner/bakery shop. It was well-known, yeah, but he still didn't know what it was exactly, since their over-caffeinated coffee wasn't the only thing on the menus. Sometimes they'd put things on the menu that would shout 'Cafe' or 'Bakery', and other days they'd put things down that were the opposite. Turkey, steaks, coffee, tea, ratatouille. They did the whole shebang, which made the place a bit of a hassle to work at, since there were a lot of people who would crowd in sometimes at lunch hour; thank God he worked the late shift tonight.

He only served out the drinks and stuff, waitering tables and cleaning the dishes. Little odd jobs here and there if the boss asks. It was the only job he could apply for that didn't require a lot of questions. The only thing they asked so far was if he were disabled in any way, and he was sure that he didn't have any disabilities as far as he knew. He hadn't been to the doctor in forever, so he'd know less than they knew by just looking at him.

He wasn't really sure if bipolar was a problem he had or not, so that couldn't exactly count. Sure, he had a prescription for it, but it was pretty much all a ruse by Jesse. She sometimes sold the pills. He didn't care all too much for them, since they weren't really something he felt he needed.

Bipolar? Him? Maybe. Maybe not. He's not one to judge such things, but he does know that Jesse had lied about him shouting at her one moment and smiling the next to the doctor. She also told him about how Jackson threatened to stab the cat. He'd never harm Moxy. Ever.

Jackson wasn't sure if his mother told one truth about him in her entire life.

"Awe no..." he mutters to himself, noting that he only had one shirt left, that being a light blue T-shirt with one of those bright pink breast cancer ribbons on the front. That was probably one of his most hated shirts, not because of the logo or the meaning, but more because it was meant for woman, not men. Also the colours were bright, and he wasn't too keen on the attention it'd give him.

Jess decided she didn't want it a few years ago and he guessed that she threw it in his laundry. He doesn't remember buying such a shirt, or such a shirt being handed down to him from anywhere, so it was kind of a mystery at this point.

He'd wear his other shirts, yeah...if they weren't in the clothes washer right now, being thrown about in soapy water. He sighs, pulling out the shirt and giving it a disappointed look, as he pulls out a pair of black skinny jeans as well. Hopefully the boss would make him wear that silly apron with the fat cat on it again. He'd rather wear that than such bright colours right now.

All well, at least it wasn't bright red or anything. He'd look like Santa's favored elf or something, what with his white hair. Just add a green hat and little pointed shoes, why don't you?

He'd say add a bell, but he wasn't too sure his boss would appreciate an elf running around. The boss had made it specifically clear that cats were more of the thing at work.

After tugging the cloth items on, he scratches Moxy behind the ear as he walks passed her, to grab his house keys that had lay on his desk, on top of some scattered doodles he had drawn on paper.

He stops just as he is in front of the 'door' to the attic, and turns around, throwing his arms out from his sides.

"I'll see you later, alright, kitty?" he chuckles as Moxy mews in response. "Don't kill Jess while I'm gone, okay? She's mean, but she means well." Pht. Yeah. She means well as in she wants everyone to kiss her ass.

He gives his friend a little wave and a smile, as he walks down the ladder. He looks to the climbing contraption, contemplating for a few moments, before nodding to himself, deciding to leave the ladder down in case Moxy needed to use the litter box. Not that Moxy would actually crap anywhere in his room, but he still would feel like it were his fault if he didn't give the cat a chance to use her kitty-toilet, even if Moxy hardly ever liked to climb down the ladder by herself.

The house is all silent save for the faint noises of Jess' bedroom television chattering away, cheesy over-used commercials shouting loudly enough to hear through the thick walls of the house. The living room didn't have a television, and Jackson never got to even breathe near Jess' bedroom, so he wasn't too familiar with a lot of things on the machine. The only television he even got to glance at was the one in his boss' home. Her nephews were out for a week once and she invited him over with a few co-workers to watch a few seasons of 'love split'.

His boss may be kind of demanding when it comes to cat-like attire and so on, but she was probably the nicest person he knew. He didn't even know her name. She had just said 'you're hired' as soon as he asked. He didn't blame her for that, though, the place didn't have a lot of employees and it was always crowded during lunch hour to the point where take-out bags would rapidly run out to the point where the boss had to send someone to the store to purchase a few boxes of them.

Now they had him to keep track of their supplies. And he was sure he did a pretty decent job so far, if by the weirdly proud looks he has received from his older co-workers were to say anything. Or maybe they just liked his hair and thought he was 'striking out'. Who knows. His co-workers were weird.

He walks across the living room to the front door, the ugly purple-ish welcome mat that meets his feet when he takes a step out onto the porch is old and ratty, and the words so faded that you couldn't even begin to see the 'welcome' that was once adorning the old thing. The porch is probably the most stable part of the house, since it was added later on when Jess finally got tired of hoping onto the old makeshift ramp they once had.

Or, well...more like she had forced Jackson into building the little porch, but she didn't tell her friends about it, and the neighbors weren't really around by the time he was building it, so...yeah. He didn't get any brownie points from anyone, just a half-assed nod from his mother and a demand to make dinner.

He locks the door behind him, and turns to slip on his old ratty sneakers. He couldn't bring them inside, so they were left out by the door behind a potted plant someone had given Emily a few years back.

Those sneakers have been with him for about three years now, and the soles were coming out, one of them had duct tape wrapped around the toe just to keep him from tripping himself should he run, the other one had some twine from a hay roll as the laces, because he didn't think his shoes were really worth a lot of attention to buy some new strings. They weren't the ideal thing to go to work in, but it was all he had to wear, and his boss told him 'no shoes, no shirt, no service'.

Did that even apply for employees? He wasn't too sure.

He waves at a few children who had stopped their play in the neighbor's yard to stare at him - he believes they were the Bennettes or something other. He doesn't mind the stares they send his way, because on closer inspection they're filled with awe and longing, as if they had just seen a deer in a meadow, or an animal at the zoo.

He finds that he likes the attention, plus sometimes they even break out of their stupor to shout some hellos and goodbyes. They all practically knew his schedule by now, and so every afternoon before he left he'd wave goodbye to them, and they'd watch him with shiny eyes and bright smiles.

Playing with the children in his neighborhood was probably a huge dream of his, and he does it every so often if Jess was home late or traveling somewhere. Jess always kept him inside until he had work, and then he usually had to come straight back home. It took him weeks just to persuade the woman to let him visit his boss, and a lot of those times when he'd come back from the visit he'd be given even more chores than before to complete.

Some chores she gave him didn't even need to be done. Sometimes she made messes just to give her useless son something to do. Jackson can only shrug at her when she does things like that. She's just really spoiled or something. He was used to her antics by now, even if some things she does still hurt.

Jackson is surprised, when instead of staring, shouting, or waving, a child - Jamie, from what he remembers - walks up to the little fence separating their yards. Jackson laughs quietly to himself, as the child only looks to him bashfully. The teenager decides to grace the child with his presence. If he was a little late his boss would understand. She herself was late most days because she had her nephews to care for.

The teenager whistles softly. "Wow, this fence is shorter than I remember. Though I don't think anyone would suspect someone to be hiding behind it." he rattles on humorously, putting his hands in his jean pockets, and swirling around on a heel. "No one would ever suspect a certain child to be hiding right there -"

"No! Only us shrubs!"

Jackson laughs, and then pulls his face into a serious-like expression, eyebrows pinched, lips straight. "That's great because I needed to find...a shrubbery!" he leans over the fence - the fence only reached up to his stomach, so it was fairly easy to look down.

Jamie looks up at him, shocked, but with a smile on his face, as Jackson pulls his hands out from his pockets.

The teenager sprinkles pocket-dust into the air over the child, forcing Jamie to laugh and roll away.

"Not the sleeping gas!" Jamie scream-laughs as he rolls.

"Yes the sleeping gas! How else can I catch the shrubbery?" Jackson laughs along with the child.

"Maybe you can come over and play Vikings with the shrubbery?" Jamie stands, smiling up at the teenager.

"Oh, I dunno, kiddo." Jackson sheepishly replies, running a hand through his hair. "Mom has me on a tight leash..."

"Then tell her you wanna play!" Sophie, Jamie's younger sibling hops over, shouting.

Jackson sighs inwardly. He missed playing with these guys. He pulls up a smile. "I'll ask her tomorrow, okay?"

Both Jamie and his sister whoop at the information, Sophie punching her hands through the air as if trying to hit the clouds up above.

Jamie then gives Jack a nod. "I miss you." he says quietly, throwing away the happy air for a moment, cutting through it like a knife through butter. "Why don't you ever come and play anymore? You used to all the time!"

"Play, play, play!" Sophie is standing next to the fence, raising her tiny hands upwards to the teen, making grabby motions. Jackson smiles at her, before taking her hands in his.

"Things happened." the teenager says. "I'm not sure what they were, but they happened, and something changed, you know?"

Jamie gives the albino a frown. "Like 'how our dad's no longer with our mom' kind of change?"

Jackson chuckles at that; the Bennettes had a divorce about a year ago. Jackson still remembers the shouting the two adults would take to the outside of their house. He wasn't sure why they always took it outside, but he figured it was in case someone threw a punch or something. Jamie's father looked to be the sort to hurt his own wife. Of course, it's not nice to judge by looks, but Jackson has seen the way the man would hold himself.

"No." the teenager answers, playfully swinging Sophie's arms left and right. "Kind of like 'mom is just a bit angry at me' change. I'm sure it'll blow over."

"But you said that forever ago!" Jamie groans. "Is she always angry with you?"

"Yeah -" Jackson lets go of Sophie's hands, to lift both his in the air, before Jamie could interrupt him. " - But I'm sure she has her reasons, right?"

"What good reason could she have to be angry at you?" Jamie frowns at that. "You're so nice."

"Yep!" Sophie giggles out, before being distracted by a stray grasshopper hopping up and away from her.

Jackson shrugs. "Dunno, kid, but if I ever find that out I'll let you know, alright?" he gives the child a wink. "I've gotta work, now, so I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Jamie nods up at the albino. "Okay! Tell boss I said hello!"

Boss. The kids both knew her as well since their mother brings them to the restaurant wannabe shop sometimes, but no one bothered to ask for the woman's name, instead picking up Jackson's 'nickname' for her. The teenager only chuckles, as he waves goodbye to Sophie, who's too distracted to notice his departure.

"Okay, bye!" Jackson smiles. "Tell miss Bennette I said hello!"

"We will!"

The walk to work was probably the most boring routine he'd ever had. It was pretty much the same very single day, with the same peoples who also walked, with the same litter here and there no one even bothered to kick around, with the same old gloomy, quiet feel to it. It was lonely, even with all the noise. The forests running alongside the road he walked along made it seem haunted, even, if not for the few cars passing him by.

The moon was just starting to show itself, peering down at the world. If Jackson weren't such a pansy when it came to fairy tales, he'd say the moon looked like a proud father, and that it showed in its glow. Thankfully it wasn't dark out just yet, and he was pretty close to the outskirts of the town, so he wouldn't need his flashlight until when his boss sent him home or something.

A few snowflakes from up above told Jackson that he'd have to start bringing in Emily's flowers off the front porch, and that he'd also have to be prepared to fix the water pipes soon should they break. Autumn and winter were his most favored seasons by far, but it also meant that he had to stock up on blankets and such. His mother always threw out extra blankets, as wasteful as that was, and Jackson only had a light sheet. He'd have to ask his boss to pay him in cash someday, just to buy the necessities.

Not that the cold bothered him much. He was sure he could roll around in the snow for hours and never feel a thing. He should get that checked one day, he inwardly notes, as he finally nears the familiar building that was the first one he'd always see - Corona's arts, an art shop mixed with a painting class. Jackson used to want to go there, but never found the time to ask if he could. He doesn't think he'd have been allowed anyway.

The lights across the town of Burgess always amazed him somewhat, though. People would leave their white Christmas lights out, and use those instead of porch lights, and some of the lights were swirled around signs and poles. It was beautiful, if a bit out of season. It reminded him of stars. Small, tiny stars that twirled around yards and curled around buildings without a single care over whether they were 'in-season' or not.

He exhales, and watches the plume of air float up and away from him in the cold, passing up a few more shops and rental buildings as he looked across the familiar, dazzling town.

Burgess was beautiful, in its own little warped and mixed up way.

It was nothing like living in California, or New York, or that one time in Washington where his little family of three had to sleep in an old broken-down apartment. Burgess was probably the most relaxed and peaceful town he had ever laid eyes on. The people who lived here were friendly, the prices weren't too outrageous, and if you happened to need help, here you could probably get it.

It was no heaven, of course, but if it were being rated, it'd be at the top ten, in Jackson's book.

He sees the little restaurant-coffee shop wanna-be thing up ahead, and hurries his walk to the glass door. He opens it slowly, allowing the little 'bell' above it to give out a little song in his entrance. His boss' nephews had made their own little automatic 'bell' system, which would sing a little different tune depending on the time of day the door is opened. He doesn't question the two children one bit when it comes to how they were so smart, because he's seen them both at work sometimes, and he was always amazed by them. He knew they'd grow up to do amazing things. - As soon as their Aunt takes the leashes off them, at least.

The restaurant wanna-be is not too small, and not too large. There were some customers sitting around by the window seats - mostly the late regulars - and his boss typing away on the cash register for someone's order. Over-all it was quiet and happy, as it usually was during this time.

He walks up to the counter, not minding the rude look the woman waiting for her meal gave him one bit.

He offers up a smile to his boss, as she is looking for the large bags for take-out. "Am I late?"

"Oh? - Oh, snowy!" Boss utters out, as if he had just spooked her. Knowing her she probably was spooked. She laughs a moment later at her shock. "I thought you weren't coming in today! - You were late, mister!"

The woman in waiting is then handed her bag of food, and she walks off with a slight huff. Some people don't like being 'cut off' in line. Oh well. She can just shove it up her nose for all Jackson cared.

Jackson scratches at his neck, chuckling. "Well I had to deal with two shrubs this afternoon..." he trails off, hoping that she'd take the little hint in the joke by the smile he gives her.

She does, because the next moment she's giggling. "How did that go for you?" she asks, humor laden in her voice.

"They miss me." he shrugs. "They decided to speak up today instead of shouting across yards."

"Well that's good!" the woman then pulls out a receipt, and gives the little paper a frown. At Jackson's confused look, she gives him a smile, her eyes crinkling in amusement, almost like her favorite animal, the cat. "That woman forgot her receipt." she answers, deciding to ball up the paper in a wad and toss it behind her. It was useless giving it back, since the woman was already driving out of the parking lot.

Jackson gives her a whoop when the wad manages to make it into the trash bin further behind the counter, and the boss laughs in glee. She holds out her fist, and Jackson bumps a fist against hers. He never used to do that, and he never used to know about the gesture, but ever since working here it's been such a good habit to find himself returning these fist-bumps. It was fun, and it gave him a nice warm and fuzzy feeling every time.

"Alright, here I am." he gestures to himself by spreading his arms to his sides. "What do you need me to do?"

"Actually..." the boss looks to the side a moment. "I...Uhm..." she then scratches a finger to her nose; a nervous gesture of hers he knew all too well. If she wasn't stress-eating through a few packages of doughnuts, her nose was being scratched to death, most likely. "W-well..."

"What is it, woman?" Jackson widens his eyes, putting up a fake frown. "Is it the press? Are you dying?" as the boss looks ready to whap him atop the head, he ducks, and with a faked panic in his voice shouts out; "Did little Timmy fall down the well?!"

A few regulars who were used to this display either snort at that or hide their smiles behind mugs of whatever-they-gots. Jackson was pretty sure that they all came here regularly for the entertainment. His boss should make a sit-com or something entitled 'that-one-restaurant-with-the-tacky-logo'. He should tell her that some day. Maybe he'd get to be a co-star.

The boss laughs along with him when he breaks out of his fake-panic.

"No! I was wondering if you wanted to stay for another movie night?" she tilts her head, giving him a slight look. He wasn't too keen with a lot of people, so a lot of expressions he never quite got the hang of, but he was sure that one ran along 'parental'. Or maybe 'I love you but I'm not going to tell you'. He doesn't think his boss would love him that way though. That was weird.

"It's Friday, you know? We close at around eight, which is in like two hours..."

Jackson gives her another one of his shrugs, followed along by a toothy smile. "Sure. I really liked watching movies with you."

"Oh, that's the thing -" she offers up a sheepish look. "My nephews are going to join us. I know you're not too great with people, but they're nice children, I swear!"

Jackson chuckles. "I'm not bad with little kids, I'm bad with the bigger kids." he looks at the large wall clock near the doorway to his boss' living room, trying his best to see the time. "You know, the ones who have to pay taxes and eat their veggies?"

The woman behind the counter giggles. "Everyone needs to eat their veggies, Snow."

Jackson - snow, being his nickname since the first time he had met his boss his shoulders were completely covered in the little white flecks - gives her a dejected look. "B-but they're gross! And - and mostly green! Like boogers! Who wants to eat things like boogers?"

"You do realize that about eighty percent of children and babies eat their own snot, right?"

"That's what they want you to think." Jackson says, holding up a finger like a teacher lecturing a student. "They're really wiping it all over your belongings while you're not looking."

"And you should know?"

Jackson laughs at the response.

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