Trench Coats and Novels

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Dean sat up in his bed; it creaked and moaned as he shifted is weight. Sun poured in from the window behind him and the sunlight illuminated the entire room. Dean looked around his tiny apartment; it was small, dirty, moldy, and smelled musky. The apartment consisted of one room, one bathroom, and a small kitchen right next to the bathroom. Clothes were thrown about the room, many of them were laying on the ground. One thing in particular stood out to Dean: a red dress covered in sequins. That wasn't his. Dean turned over on his side and saw a woman laying on the other side of the bed. Her back was facing Dean, so all he could see was her long blonde hair. Dean didn't remember much about the night before; obviously it had gone pretty well. He stared at the woman for a few more moments, trying to grasp any memory of the events of the previous evening. Nothing. He couldn't even remember her name. Feeling quite embarrassed about the whole situation, Dean sat back up and got up from the bed. He was only wearing his boxers and socks. Dean's feet were always cold, so he always had to keep a pair of socks near by. He slowly walked across the room, trying to avoid stepping on the red dress, and snuck into the bathroom. He turned on the sink and splashed water on his face. The cold water felt good, it was enough to wake him up and bring life to his lifeless face. Dean glanced up at the mirror; he looked terrible. A shadow was plastered on his face and his eyes were drooping a little. Dean let out a sigh as he peered into the mirror at the grotesque face looking back at him. A noise came from the other room, and Dean turned around to see what was happening. The woman was now standing in the room with the sheet wrapped around her. She was gorgeous, but Dean could tell it had been a rough night. Her makeup was smeared and her hair was a mess. She smiled at Dean and he flashed her a little smile.

"Morning." Her voice was soft and a bit raspy. The woman came over to Dean and kissed him on the cheek. "Last night was fun."

"Look, bank's closed. I, uh, I think you'd better be going..." Dean started.

"Joanna. You really don't remember my name?"

"Guess not." said Dean as he grinned slightly, trying to cover up the awkwardness of the situation. Joanna picked up her dress and walked back to the bathroom. Dean let her in and stepped out so she could change. After a few minuets, she came out looking like she was ready for another night on the town.

"Now, you gotta phone I can use to call a car?" She asked.

"Yes, here." Dean said as he directed her toward the phone in the kitchen. After dialing for a car, Joanna picked up her things and left the apartment.

Dean stood in the doorway, watching her leave to make sure she got in the car safely. He then went back to the bathroom and opened the cabinet. Dean took out his razor blade and shaving cream. He smeared the cream on his face and carefully brushed the blade across his cheeks and chin to get rid of the stubble from the night before. Dean used the blade slowly as to prevent getting any nicks from the sharp piece of metal. As he was finishing one side of his face, the phone rang. Dean set the blade on the edge of the sink and walked over to the ringing phone.

"Hello?" Dean asked.

"I got another job for you. Meet me at the deli in half an hour." said a husky voice on the other end. Dean hung up after receiving the message and went back to the bathroom to finish shaving.

The man who had called Dean was his boss, Marvin Vaughn. Marvin Vaughn, leader of the Angels, was a professional criminal, a gangster. Marvin Vaughn was an intimidating little man; he had an exorbitant amount of power in New York and no one messed with Vaughn or the Angels. The Angels were Vaughn's minions, his "workers," as he called them. Dean had been an Angel for three years now, ever since he had turned eighteen. Dean had been working as a paperboy when Vaughn found him. Vaughn noticed Dean's shooting skills when he saw Dean shooting cans behind an alley. From that day on, Dean worked for Vaughn. He was one of Vaughn's "special Angels," one of the ones who "took care of people" that Vaughn didn't like. Vaughn supplied Dean with everything he needed to get the job done, he even bought the rifles. Dean certainly didn't love the job, but it was good money. Vaughn was rich and Vaughn could give Dean a lot dough for doing his will. Dean used half of the money for himself and put the other half in a savings account for his brother Sam, who was bound to need the money someday. Dean never told Sam about the new job he had acquired; he had simply moved away and tried to avoid the subject around Sam. For now, Dean had to do what Vaughn asked. It would be impossible for him to leave, anyway, Vaughn would make sure Dean stayed.

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