Chapter 7 - Ange, My Angel
Translator's Note:
Hello, I hope you've all been doing well.
Here you go, and I wish you a good read.
Encounter (7)
"I'm not getting worked up! Anyway, I don't have time for some kid. Goodbye!" Ange spat out, irritated, and started walking away again.
But he could still hear the boy's muffled laughter trailing behind him.
—So annoying!
"Wait, please! Hey! You said you wanted a job, right? I could introduce you to something a lot better than working for the mafia!"
Ange stopped in his tracks, despite himself. He didn't really believe a high schooler could offer him a job, but something about the boy's words made him pause.
"What kind of job?" Ange asked, turning back to face him.
The boy flashed a friendly smile.
"Like I said before, my family runs a few businesses. One of them is…" he began, explaining how one of the places was a club.
But this wasn't just any club. All the workers there were male Omegas.
"At that place, you get room and board, so you won't have to worry about surviving," the boy said, explaining how they also provided shelter for Omegas like Ange, who had nowhere else to go.
"Your father runs it?" Ange asked.
"Yeah, but he's retired now. My older brother, who's twelve years older than me, handles everything these days," the boy replied.
At a club, the main job would involve interacting with guests, but there was no need to sell one's body just because they were an Omega.
"But since you're nineteen, I can't have you working as a host. You'd probably be doing cleaning or some simple office work, something that wouldn't involve serving customers."
That arrangement sounded just fine to Ange. He wasn't particularly good at talking to people, and he couldn't imagine himself handling guests at a place that served alcohol.
"Alright, that works for me."
"Then it's settled," the boy said cheerfully, and they began walking together.
"So, what's your name?" the boy asked.
"Ange… Ange Blanc."
"Wow, 'White Angel,'* huh? I'm Aaron Tikaani."
[T/N: In French, "Ange Blanc" would mean White Angel.]
As the night deepened, the downtown streets became livelier. The two of them weaved through the crowd, and whenever they risked being separated, Aaron would gently take Ange's hand.
"This area's really dangerous. Stay close so we don't get separated."
A soft, pleasant scent drifted into Ange's senses. Was it a cologne, or perhaps Aaron's natural smell? Ange couldn't tell at that moment.
"You know, since I'm 'Blanc,' you should've been named 'Amber.'"
"Huh?"
—Because of your beautiful amber eyes.
Ange thought it but didn't say it aloud.
"I'm terrible with names, so I'll just call you Amber from now on."
Aaron flashed another friendly smile and replied, "Sure, that's fine."
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