InsaneJournal

Cyprien had heard him coming, heard the car pulling up and Rich stepping out. It hadn't taken him long to slip on his shoes and grab a jacket as he opened the door, only to glance him over. There was a soft smile playing on his lips, though it was barely noticeable. "Hello Rich." His voice was soft, accented with that Parisian accent as he spoke -- it was something he had never lost.

He moved up to him, glancing to the vehicle. "Club clothing... what kind of club are we talking about here?" He moved over to the vehicle, waiting for Rich as he watched him. Cyprien wasn't some so called fashionista, but he could at least help when it came to picking out clothing. He had frequented the clubs enough to know what to wear, and besides... he knew what looked good on people.

"Guess any major place, I really don't know.  Part of my job requirement is to make connections.  To find the those who might be in need of our services.  Renting a car that they would not normally need.  My boss, Dale, is sending over a fleet of cars that are not your normal run around the town cars.  Like this beauty, DB9.  It's got flare and presence.  Looks good on anyone who drives it.  You can rent it for a week out, or to sit in your driveway to impress whoever is at your house to impress. "

Rich slid back into the driver's seat.  "I need to be able to go almost anywhere I guess, a spectrum of clothes.  I'm just a bloke who's happy to stand in a pub and throw a few darts.  So this is all new to me."  He started up the engine and smiled at the sound.  "So anything you think would be best."  He reversed the car onto the street and put it forward waiting for direction of their first stop.

"It's a nice car, never been one to admire the ride unless it's comfortable, but I'll give it to you. It's very nice." He looked back to the car. Cyprien barely noticed cars, but he knew some cars meant money while others portrayed a struggle. It was amazing just how much a car could reveal about someone's life. "What do you do, exactly?" He glanced away from the DB9 and back to Rich, tilting his head as he inquired. He was curious by nature, as shy and quiet as he could be, he would always be curious.

He moved to take a seat in the car, putting his belt on. "I think I know the perfect place to go for your clothing." He nodded, assuredly as he glanced at the interior of the car. It was comfortable. He gave him the address of a store, taking a deep breath. "It's been a while ever since I've gone out, this is nice. I'm more of a bar type myself, but clubs have their charm."

"I a specialized car dealer.  We rent and sell dramatic cars.  Dale brings them over from Europe to look impressive."  He liked driving the car.  "The driving the merchandise is an added bonus." Rich smiled.  "I'm expected to make the rounds to search out those who might be of interest to use our cars.  That's going to gatherings, clubs, and what ever I can get myself into.  It's like I'm being given permission to get in trouble."

"If I had the money, I would certainly be interested." He grinned as he smoothed his hand over the dashboard, nodding to himself. So Rich needed a look that got him noticed, that was somewhat impressive yet blended in perfectly. He could do that. "How often do you get yourself in trouble?" He looked out the window, watching as the scenery quickly passed them by, changing as they approached the store. "I think blues would look good on you, blacks and jeans. Flannel is overrated and black always passes."

"Well, I always had to try to stick up for myself, you know, being short and all," Rich said as he glided the car through traffic.  "When I'm with my best mates, well, we can be a bit silly.  Never in trouble with the law, mind you, but a bit daft at times."    He smiled at the suggestions of jeans.  "I love jeans.  Dress pants and jackets are over kill.

 But if done relaxing."  If he could run around in t-shirts he would be even happier but he knew better.  He had to look a part, and play it.  "Sounds good."

"I know about needing the money.  I always dreamed of cars like this and now I'm like a kid in a candy store.  Which car to drive home in.  If there's a car you ever thought of trying let me know.  If we have it I can drive it home.  It's the game to play, to show off."  He manuevered around a slower truck.  "I wish the lorries around here weren't so big."

"I'm not the tallest either, I know what it feel like." He came up to five foot nine, which was a little on the small side for a man, not that it mattered any to him. He was comfortable with himself, quite content actually. Something that could be confused with arrogance all too often -- or perhaps that was the French accent. He didn't know, he never thought about it. "It's what you're supposed to do with best mates, yes? Be yourself, be silly. We all encourage each other to do the worst things." He shrugged, softly smiling. Best friends brought out the worst and best in each other.

"Jeans, dress pants and jackets, you're going to have to deal with those. I'll try to find you something comfortable. Don't worry, you can trust me." He listened to him speak, nodding. If he saw a car he liked, he would most certainly tell him... but his brows furrowed as he listened to him speak further. "Lorries? You've lost me now." He looked at him, confused, before he pointed in a different direction. That's our stop, over there."

"The trucks, we Brits call them lorries," Rich explained.  "My mates, well their a loud bunch and me being the short one of the lot, liked to take the piss out of me," he laughed.  He followed the thought of where they were going.  He looked around and saw a spot just a few cars down to park in.  He did a U turn when there was no traffic and headed for the spot.  He parked it with ease, proud of himself to doing such a job.  "Easy as .. I believe .. pie," he smiled.  "Shall we?" he asked.

"I assume you learnt self-defense rather quickly?" He grinned, teasing him in the slightest. Cyprien was far from a joker, but he did have a sense of humour. He waoted for them to park before he stepped out of the car and stretched. "You make it look easy. I doubt you would like to see me driving, I'm not as graceful." He stepped toward the store, something with large fancy windows, nice clothings. Something that fit in perfectly in Los Angeles.

"One my mates, he's a head taller than me.  He liked to show how height challenged I am, the pillock.  But at the end of the day, one my dearest freinds." Rich told Cyprien.  Rich hit the security button on the fob and followed him to the store.  He eyed the clothes that were displayed.  Nice looking items, he thought.    "By the way, this is all expensed, so money not a question."