Realistic or Modern 𝔀𝓮'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓼𝓸 𝓭𝓲𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓲 -- 𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓿.

[elytra]

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  hating this so so much

  
  
  
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  back at highschool

  
  
  

Razvan wasn't really used to being complimented on his line of work.

That was the sort of thing you said to performers. Chefs, maybe. Jobs that were considered fun and not business. You didn't really gush to your lawyer about how good they were at getting you off murder charges, but you'd tell an actor that they were great in the play you saw. That was how it worked. Realtors weren't the sort of people you complimented on their livelihood.

Or, maybe they were and his clients just never did. Which would be fine as well, actually; he didn't want random customers complimenting him on how good he was at house hunting. It was...weird, to put it simply. It was weird still to have Mason doing it, but in a different way. They knew each other- had known each other, more accurately. Though Mason wasn't aware of it, it still made the compliment feel odd when how they'd parted was taken into account. He wasn't going to think too deeply on it or he was going to get worked up and annoyed and, even further, frustrated, and he could just see himself kicking at the wall of this nice house if he pondered just a little too long to work off some of that energy.

Best to move on, he figured. Just smooth right over it and move on to the equally weird question that had been directed towards him. His face heated up at the combination of everything- the gushing, the question, the eye contact -and he ended up looking at a particularly intriguing cabinet door, placing both hands folded over the top of his cane and leaning most of his weight on it. It probably wasn't advisable, but what his doctor didn't know couldn't hurt her.

"I mean...It's a job, I guess." God. Fuck. That answer had the same vibes as answering 'how's your day going?' by saying 'it's going!'. The problem was that he didn't know how to exactly answer, at a loss of what to say. Did he like his job? "Looking at weird houses is interesting. I could think of a lot of worse things I could be doing, so its not the worst gig in the world. Could be a fuckin'...nurse or something, I don't know." He hesitated, then shrugged his shoulders "Using a customer service voice and smiling all day at idiots makes me want to claw out my own vocal cords, though, so I guess it comes out pretty neutrally when assessing how I feel about it. Not really what I pictured myself doing with my life." There was another pause as his eyes flitted back to Mason, then he added "You're not currently included in 'idiots', to be clear, if anything this is a break from how it usually is."

This wasn't on topic. This was way off topic, actually. The whole meeting was supposed to be about Mason's taste in houses so Raz could get him a house and they could all move on. He was slowly coming to the realization that maybe this was getting a bit out of hand. At the reunion, he'd been annoyed, and the whole seeing-if-Mason-would-recognize-him thing had been an amusement that, while it had ended in him being a bit less bitter, shouldn't have ended in a business arrangement. Now he was torn between holding onto his bitterness or being a little less cranky towards the man who, in current recent history, had been nothing but nice, if not about as nervous as a horse without blinders on a busy road.

Mentally, he was kicking in the knees of his past self. Good lord.

Back on topic. That would fix this before he started thinking more about how it was actually super weird that he was selling a house to an old friend who kicked him to the curb, while basically hiding his identity. "I like my job enough to be able to find decent houses, though. So, do you want me to text you the options when I find them or make a list and send them to you all at once? Or I could just send you an address the next time you want to look at a house and have it be a surprise. Whatever you prefer, honestly."

razvan carol

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