Mad as Jazzmen |1930s Ryden AU| ✔️

-7-

Jon was, quite possibly, the most relaxed person in all of Louisiana.

At least in Brendon's opinion, anyway.

After making sure that Spencer wasn't planning on going anywhere for the next few hours, Ryan called in his friend so the three of them could finally begin the lengthy process of revamping the entirety of The Spotted Cat.  It was going to be a long day.

But at least the trio got along nicely. Brendon was thankful for that.

His first impression of Jon was when he waltzed through the front door.  His dress was casual and laid-back, not like many others in New Orleans, but he didn't seem to care in the slightest.  He strolled through that door like he owned the place, and right away, Brendon had a hunch that he was going to like him.  If Ryan did, then he was sure he would, too.

"What's shakin', greaseballs?"  was Jon's announcement of his arrival.  A lazy smirk adorned his face as he sauntered up to Brendon and Ryan and slung his arms around their necks.  "Ya ready to do some work on this place?  Ya better be.  I came prepared.  This is some serious business."

And he did indeed come prepared.

Two mops, a bucket of soapy water, multiple rags, some paint brushes, and even a can of fresh floor varnish.  Jon was ready to give The Spotted Cat the makeover it desperately needed, and Brendon couldn't have been more excited to work on renovations.

"Thanks for comin' on such short notice, Jon,"  Ryan said with a smile.  He was already breathless, but whether it was out of excitement or something else, Brendon didn't know.  "You're really gonna be a big help."

"Don't sweat it, Ry,"  was Jon's nonchalant response.  "I'm always happy to see ya, and your new friend, apparently."  He turned to Brendon now, a hospitable smile adorning his face as he extended his hand in greeting.  "Nice to meet ya.  The name's Jon, but I'm sure you've heard that already."

Brendon gladly accepted his handshake.  "Nice to meet ya, too,"  he said.  "I'm Brendon.  Just moved to New Orleans the other day."

"Ah, a wheat then,"  Jon remarked, but there was no judgement to his tone, not like Dallon's when Brendon first rented his apartment.  "Well, I know I'm a little late, but welcome to the big city of jazz, pal.  Our home city is your home city."

Brendon appreciated that.  It was a small gesture, sure, but Jon didn't have to say anything at all.  Despite having known him for less than five minutes, he seemed like a generous and laid-back man.  No wonder he and Ryan got along well.

First up on Jon's list was to mop the old floors.  He retrieved the bucket of soapy water and stacked the chairs atop the tables, just so they could make sure they cleaned everything.  He offered to take the rags, as well, so Brendon and Ryan could use the mops and not throw out their backs.  Those were Jon's words specifically.

"Let's get to scrubbin', ladies,"  he said with a grin.

They spent at least an hour cleaning the floors, mopping and wiping up every nook and cranny in the room.  It looked as good as new once they were finished, but Jon still had more plans for it.  That was why he had brought floor varnish.

Another hour was spent varnishing the floors to absolute perfection.  It was so shiny at the end that Brendon swore he could see his reflection.  If someone were to walk into The Spotted Cat at that very moment, he was sure they would think new floorboards had just been put in.  He had never seen a more sparkling and polished floor in his entire life, and judging by how wonderfully revamping the floors had gone, Brendon couldn't wait to see what else Jon had in store for the rest of the old jazz club.  He was a stylistic genius.