@nosomatsu // closed starter.
That shithead Dojima, getting 'stomach issues' 15 minutes into packing away sound equipment post-show (really, how convenient of him to get the runs right after all the 'fun' parts of running sound for the idol show were over and done with, all after talking about having a date tonight). Now she's stuck hauling all these speakers and untangling the mess he left the cables in solo until the new part-timer gets here to fill in. It's already been 30 minutes since they told me he was en-route, what's the hold up?!
That question is about to be answered, though (or--well, she thinks it is). As her fingers drum against the speaker in her arms and the heel of her clunky platform boot taps an impatient beat in time to the music in her headphones, Ran turns towards the entryway, and--
"Jeeeee-sus fuck--" Her hands twitch around the speaker, rhythm completely disrupted in her surprise at the figure just--standing in that doorway. Forcing her shoulders down, she sets the speaker on the floor, pops a headphone out of one ear, and levels the guy with a squint that borders on accusation. "...Oi, oi," her voice pitches lower, maybe to cover her embarrassment at the upwards tick her pitch had initially taken in the shock of the moment. "You--make a fucking noise, seriously! Lingering in that door like some Victorian-era ghost boy, or something... what the hell..."
Ran side eyes the clock overhead, then levels him with a flat stare. She's never seen this guy in her life, she's pretty sure. New guy indeed. "...You're late." Pushing a hand through her bangs, she lets them fall back into place with a flick of her wrist and a click of her tongue. "Ahh, whatever, whatever, I don't wanna hear it... you're here now (unlike that fucking Dojima)..." She jerks her thumb towards the pile of jacks and cables the aforementioned coworker had disconnected and then left in one ugly mass in his hasty retreat. "You can de-tangle and wrap cables at least, right? Did they train you?"
