Date: Sat, 28 Jan 2017 09:11:16 -0600
From: Kurt King <kingkurt1339@gmail.com>
Subject: The New Life of Cal King

	This story may contain sexual acts between males, persons below the
age of consent, and relatives. If this offends you or is illegal for you to
read where you're at, please close this website and go elsewhere.

	This story is fictional and entirely the work of the author's
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	This story is not a quick jack-off story. If you are looking for
that, you would be best going to another story. If you are interested in
not just the sex, but also the lives of the characters and their romances
and dramas, then read on, and I hope you enjoy it!

~~Chapter One – A New Opportunity~~

[Cal]

	The siblings are are their friends' houses today, and going to be
spending the night there, while the parents are...doing their own
thing. So, since it's finally my sixteenth birthday, I'm attempting, once
again, to find a job. No one would take me last time I looked, or the time
before, or the time before, because I was under sixteen, even though I
could get the permit with my grades being as good as they are.

	Today, though, it seems I'm just as out of luck as I was all my
other attempts. I either get told immediately they're not hiring, they
don't want me, or some other version of 'get your poor trash self out of
here'. I'm on my way home when I see a path I go by every day on my way
home from school. There are a few cars in the parking lot beside the path,
but the path itself leads into some woods.

	The parking lot, and the path leading away from it, is for a small
restaurant called The Wolf's Dragon. I've heard it's good, but I've never
been. Can't afford to buy it for my little brothers. On a whim, I decide to
see if they're hiring.

	To get there, I have to walk on the trail, and that takes five
minutes, and part of it's up a hill. With that, I'm surprised that people
still go to it. The building itself looks kind of modern, but also
old-fashioned, made of brick, but with glass doors to its entrance, and
large, tinted glass windows along the front.

	When I walk in, I enter a small lobby, of sorts, that has a stand
for umbrellas and racks for coats and jackets. There are a few jackets
already hung up. I shed mine and hang it up, assuming that those who come
here tend to be on the trustworthy side. Then I notice the four cameras in
each corner and realize that a thief would probably be hard-pressed to get
out of here. I'm sure they have other ways to see faces, in case they're
wearing a hat.

	A small bell rings as I enter the next room. About twenty feet away
from the door is a counter with a register, though no one's standing there
at this time. An entrance leading to the back is in the wall behind that,
as well as a hall disappearing past the wall to my right. That wall starts
up a few feet past the door, and has a cushioned bench lining it from the
door, around the corner, and to the counter.

	The rest of the room is filled with booths, no tables surrounded by
chairs, and carpeted floors. I can see out of the building clearly through
the windows, getting a nice view of the woods and anyone approaching. There
are four groups of people eating, all of them wearing nicer clothes than
what I've got on, and I immediately feel out of place. I'm about to turn
around to leave when a lady in her twenties, brown hair hidden underneath a
hat, dressed in all-black with an apron with the store's name and logo, a
wolf in front of a dragon, rushes out of the hole in the wall, carrying a
tray completely covered in food in each hand.

	"Be with you in just a moment, sir," she says.

	Her calling me 'sir' is what gets me to stay a moment longer,
instead of just leaving as soon as I realize that this is probably more
expensive than it appears, and so out of my class.

	The waitress is definitely older than me, and she looked right at
me when I spoke, and she had a smile on her face, one that lit up her
emerald eyes. I wait as she serves a family of six sitting at a corner
booth.

	The counter in front of me has a sign fixed to the wall part of it,
spanning the whole length. It's decorated with dragons and wolves, and has,
in golden text, "Wait here, and we'll be with you as soon as possible!" in
text that makes me feel like I should wait here instead of taking a seat in
a booth on my own, and I'm not even here to eat. And it doesn't do it in a
bad way, either, but in a friendly way.

	The restaurant smells really nice, too. No greasy smell, very
clean, very cozy, and smells like a variety of foods, everything mixing
together to assault my senses. The lady returns, setting the trays on the
counter and walking behind it. Her apron has "Emily" in pink above the
logo.

	"Hello," she greets me with her smile. "Welcome to the Wolf's
Dragon. My name's Emily. How can I help you today?"

	She didn't ask if it's a party of one, just how she could help
me. Man, if I had money, I would love to have come here to treat my
brothers to them, I like this place a lot.

	"Hello," I say. "My name's Callum, though I prefer to go by Cal. I
was wondering if you guys are hiring."

	"How old are you?" She asks.

	No condescending tone, no immediate rejection, and that smile that
never leaves her face is still friendly.

	"I'm sixteen, as of today."

	"I'll be right back," she disappears down the hall, not once losing
that smile.

	Not even a minute later, she's returned, asking me to follow her,
the smile still on her face.

	She leads me down that hall. There are two doors, one at the far
left, one about halfway down on the right, and there's an opening in the
wall on the right a few feet in, which is a room with a few lockers and a
table, probably the break room. There's another opening in the wall on the
left, which leads to the kitchen, which I see as we pass by it.

	We reach the door on the right, and Emily knocks on it. A deep
voice calls for us to enter, and Emily opens the door, leading me into an
office.

	The office has wood panels for the lower portion of the wall, a
dark green upper. Several filing cabinets and bookshelves fill the wall,
the shelves filled with various books, including cookbooks, psychology
books, business books, tax books, and teen novels. The floor is carpeted,
and the desk is made of some sort of darker wood, two cushioned chairs
sitting on this side, a youngish man in his twenties. The office is neat
and orderly, and so is the desk, no loose papers floating about, all
arranged neatly in stacks in a tray tower. There's a computer on it, and he
doesn't so much as glance at it while I'm introduced.

	"This is Cal," Emily says. "The young man who's here to see if
we're hiring."

	She didn't call me 'boy', she said 'young man'. This place is
awesome.

	"Thank you, Emily," the man stands up. "You may go."

	She dips her head to him, then leaves.

	"Come on in, Cal," he says, and I do. "Close the door behind you
and have a seat."

	I do, and then he sits down.

	"My name is David," he says. "I'm the owner and manager of this
restaurant. Emily said you're looking for a job, and that you're sixteen,
as of today. Is this true?"

	"Yes, sir."

	"Happy birthday," he says. Though his expression is more serious
than anything, I can tell he actually means that, and isn't just saying it
to say it. "Tell me about yourself?"

	"What would you like to know?"

	"What's your favorite subject in school?"

	"I don't have one," I answer. "Though I work hard to make sure my
grades don't fall. My best subject at school would be the home ec classes,
Foods and Nutrition and the Clothing and Textiles classes. My second-best
would be my math classes, followed closely by the sciences."

	"What kind of position would you prefer?" He asks.

	"Any position," I answer. "Though since this is a restaurant, and I
haven't been employed before, I think I'd prefer a server or busboy
position over a cooking position, so that I could get used to the menu
before thinking about attempting the kitchen. It would also allow me to
connect with the customers, and get involved with the restaurant."

	"Can you cook?"

	"I believe so," I answer. "Though I've only ever cooked in class or
at home, so I'm untested in a professional environment, another reason I'd
prefer to start off as a server or busboy, if you have a position
available."

	"What's your stance on homosexuality?"

	That's a really weird question to ask, and I worry that he's
somehow able to tell I'm gay. No one else has figured it out so far, but
that's the only reason I can think of for him to ask that.

	"I have no issue with it," I say. "Whether someone is gay or
straight affects me just as much as if they're married or not. As long as
someone doesn't force their sexuality on me, I have no issue with them. My
stance on people is this: I don't care if you're black, white, Asian, gay,
straight, bi, trans, male, female, young, old, Christian, Buddhist, pagan,
atheist, or otherwise, as long as you're a decent person, you're cool in my
books, and if you're not, I'll still treat you with respect. I do have a
habit of getting sassy when attitudes come out, though I do try to keep
that in check."

	"You'll have to compete with Emily for sass, then," he laughs. "I
think you'll be fine, then. Our head chef, Amy, is a lesbian, and I think
your answer more than determined you'd have no issues with that. When can
you start?"

	The way he asked that suggests he wants to hire me, which is
confusing for more than one reason, but there's one right at the front of
my mind.

	"You only asked four questions, sir," I say.

	"And I can tell," he says. "That you're a respectable young man who
would fit in well with the crew. I've no clue why you're looking for a job
on your birthday, but you are, and you seem like you'd fit in well here, so
I'm willing to hire you. Uniform is black shirt, pants, and shoes, and you
can decorate your apron however you wish. If you don't have black clothes,
then I'll supply you with the funds for them, and dock the cost of them out
of your first two paychecks, so long as you bring me the change and the
receipts, or I'll charge you the full amount I gave you in the first
paycheck. When can you start?"

	"Whenever you need me, sir," I answer. "Though I don't have black
clothes, so it would have to wait until after I bought some."

	"What are your plans for today?"

	"To look for a job," I answer. "Other than that, nothing."

	"Tell you what," he says. "Come back in two hours in black, and you
can start today. We'll be getting busy around then, for the dinner rush, so
you'll receive a crash course on things. We only have Emily as a server
right now, so the kitchen's been helping, and that's delaying our times. As
for your clothes..."

	He reaches under his desk and to his side, and a moment later, he's
handing me five twenties.

	"Bring me the change and the receipts," he says. "Pay is every
Friday, so your first check will be then. I won't dock anything from that
one, since you'll have only worked today."

	"And if I don't work out today?" I ask.

	"We'll discuss it if it comes to that," he says. "Good to meet you,
Cal, and welcome to the team."

	I leave, going to the store and looking for some black clothes,
thinking that he is one trusting man, and wondering why he only introduced
himself by his first name.

	I find black slacks and polos, as well as no-slip sneakers. Two
shirts and pants, and one set of shoes, taking up almost the full
hundred. I feel a little bad about that, but make sure to keep the
receipt. I always do, but am making sure that I don't lose it.

	I head home and take a shower and change into a set of clothes. I
only have black socks, so that works out with me not needing to buy any. I
go to the bathroom after getting dressed, making sure that my sandy-blond
hair is brushed neatly again, staring at my bright blue eyes. In the black,
my eyes almost pop out of my head. Girls love them. I've never had a guy
comment on them, but I'm sure gay guys like them, too, with how many girls
hit on me because of them. I'm not interested in dating, though, need to
focus on my brothers, studies, and work.

	I leave, making my way back to the restaurant. It only takes me ten
minutes to walk there from home. I walk back in to the restaurant, and
Emily greets me.

	"David said to send you to his office once you returned," she says,
passing by me with a plate of drinks.

	There are more people here than there were before.

	"Okay," I walk around the counter and back to his office, knocking
on the door and waiting until he calls for me to enter before doing
so. "Here's the change and receipt, sir."

	"Hope they fit," he says. "You can leave your jacket in the
lockers, seven will be yours. Have a cell phone?"

	"No, sir," I answer.

	"What's your home number?" He asks, and I give it to him. "Due to
state labor laws, I can't work you more than forty-eight hours on school
weeks, with no more than five hours on weekdays those weeks, exempting any
day where you don't have school. I'll work around your schedule as well, so
let me know if you can't work a shift I've given you."

	"Yes, sir," I say, and then he grabs some more information, such as
my address and parents' information, and then has me fill out some quick
paperwork.

	"Alright," he says. "Go put your jacket up, then meet with
Emily. She'll give you the crash course. You can take notes if you need to,
there are little notebooks and pens in the break room. Bathroom's the door
at the end of the hall, and the other door leads to the kitchen."

	"Yes, sir," I say.

	I go to the break room and put my jacket in the locker he assigned
to me. It's completely empty, save for a black apron, which I pull on. The
apron's got a few items in it, including a book for taking down orders,
several pens, another pocket-sized notebook, and a miniature
calculator. There's a hat sitting on the top shelf of the locker,
completely black, save for the name of the restaurant in dark green, and I
pull that on as well.

	One of the things I notice is that none of the lockers have locks
on them, and there are cameras in here as well.

	Dressed, I go meet Emily, who's greeting a pair of customers at the
door, a woman and a girl around ten. I put on a smile, just in case I need
to be smiling while I'm on the floor.

	"Hello!" She greets them. "Welcome to the Wolf's Dragon. My name's
Emily, and this is Cal. He's in training, so please excuse any errors or
delays. How can we help you today?"

	"Table for four, please," the woman returns her smile.

	"So John and Cam will be joining us tonight?" Emily asks.

	"Indeed," the woman answers. "He finally got a Saturday evening
off. Nice to meet you, Cal."
     "You as well, ma'am," I respond.

	"Please," the woman says. "Call me Gabbie. How long have you worked
here?"

	"He's just started today," Emily answers for me. "Though we already
believe he'll work out well."

	Even though she spoke with me all of a minute, max?

	Emily leads her to a booth, and the woman and her daughter sit
down.

	"Would you like to order your drinks now?" Emily sets two menus
down in front of them and two rolls of silverware. "Or wait until the rest
of the party arrives?"

	"We'll order now," Gabbie answers.

	Emily writes down their drink orders, then leads me to the room
right behind the counter, which has a drink station set up.

	"We don't do," she grabs a cup. "What most restaurants do and fill
the cups all the way up with ice. That's a waste. Never fill it more than
halfway, unless the customer asks for it to be filled with more. Odds are,
they'll drink it all before the ice melts, anyway. If someone asks, a soft
drink, such as soda, is a dollar forty-nine. Water's free. No alcohol is
served here, and we do have a secret drink menu, which most of our regulars
know.

	"Gabbie's boyfriend, John," she continues to make the drinks,
setting them on a tray. "Is one such regular, though Gabbie's been coming
here since he introduced her to us a few months ago. Never carry drinks in
your hand, always on a tray."

	I follow her back to Gabbie and her daughter, and she sets the
drinks down.

	"Would you like to order anything now?" Emily asks. "Any
appetizers?"

	"Could we get some mozzarella sticks and some breadsticks?" Gabbie
asks.

	"Sure thing!" Emily notes it down in her notebook, then leads me to
the drink station again, which has a sort of entrance to the kitchen,
though I can't get into it from there, due to a counter in the way.

	According to Emily, I'm not allowed in the actual kitchen yet, so
this I my only way to talk to them in there.

	The kitchen has an island in the middle, and has four stoves, six
ovens, a large sink, and food everywhere, some already prepared, some
fresh. There's a steel door that probably leads to their fridge or
freezer. It's neat and orderly, and has three workers, two of them guys,
one of them a woman, and they work quickly and efficiently, preparing food.

	"This is Cal," Emily says. "We've got appetizers for Table Six, an
order of mozzarella and one of breadsticks. Cal, the orders come with six
and eight, respectively. When you get them, make sure you have the proper
amounts."

	"Yes, ma'am," I say.

	"It's Emily," she says, and the bell goes off. "Let's go."

	Not once does that smile disappear off her face. It's contagious, I
can't stop smiling, too, though hers is bigger and more friendly than mine.

	"Hello!" She greets a man and a boy around my age.

	The boy's got brown hair and amber eyes, and is dressed in a suit
and tie, much like his father, who looks like an older version of
him. Instantly, I can feel this whole evening becoming awkward. The boy's
really, really attractive.

	"Welcome to Wolf's Dragon," Emily continues without missing a beat,
as if a god did not just walk in here. "My name is Emily, and this is
Cal. He's currently in training, so please excuse any errors or delays. How
can we help you?"

	"Hello, Emily," the man says. "Table for four, we're here for a
date."

	"Your party has already arrived," Emily grabs two menus and two
rolls of silverware. "Right this way, John."

	Emily leads them over to Gabbie and they take their seats, and then
she takes their drink orders. We go back to the fountain to get them, and
she watches as I make it. As we finish, they call the order for two other
tables, plus the appetizers for Six, so she asks me to carry the tray with
their drinks. I have to use both hands to carry it, but make it to the
table just fine as Emily serves another table.

	"Here are your drinks," I set them down in front of them. "A water
for you," that one goes to John. "And a Sprite for you," that one goes to
Cam. "Your appetizers will be out in just a minute."

	"Thank you," John says, and then his son thanks me.
     I feel my face flush, so I just nod and go meet Emily in the back, and
she hands me their appetizers.

	"See if they're ready to take their orders, too," she says. "They
already know the menu, so they shouldn't ask you what's on it, unless
they're teasing."

	"Okay," I say, and we both head out just as the bell rings. "Hello!
We'll be with you in just a minute."

	Emily and I look at each other, then laugh. We said that at the
same exact time. I go over to the table and put the two baskets of
appetizers down in the middle, setting down the four cups of marinara
sauce. Does each order come with two? I make a mental note to ask Emily
when I get the chance.

	"Are you ready to take your orders?" I pull out my order pad and a
pen, writing a six in the box for the table.

	"I would like the salad of the day," Gabbie orders. "No dressing."

	"Hamburger!" The daughter says. "And potato wedges."

	"I'd like a spaghetti," John says. "And another order of
breadsticks, before Cam eats them all."

	"They're addicting," Cam laughs, dipping one into a marinara before
biting it.

	"What kind of sauce would you like for your spaghetti?" I ask John,
and Cam mumbles something, earning an elbow from his father.

	"What?" Cam asks. "It wasn't THAT bad."

	"Hush," his father snorts. "Red chicken."

	Red chicken? I haven't the faintest clue what he means by that, but
I write it down, hoping he's not playing a prank on me.

	"And what would you like to order tonight, sir?" I ask Cam.

	"Spaghetti as well," Cam answers. "Red beef sauce."

	Red beef and red chicken? I'm going to assume they're just wanting
meat sauce, and are stating which meat they want in it. Ground beef for the
red beef, and chicken in some form for the red chicken. After confirming
their orders, I turn around, jumping when I nearly bump into Emily, who's
standing right there.

	"Whoa!" I exclaim. "Sorry!"

	"My fault!" She laughs. "I was just watching you. Come on, I'll
show you how to deliver the order."

	We go back to the drink station's serving counter, and she has me
hang the slip up on a line, and she hangs another one up, then grabs a
table's order and we serve it.

	The night gets busy, with the restaurant getting packed. We get
tipped by everyone, most tips being over fifteen percent, with John and
Gabbie's tip being twenty-five percent, split in two spots, Gabbie's, and
Cam's. After about two hours, when we're even busier, she has me greet a
new customer for the first time, since she needs to know if I can handle it
or not, with us getting this busy.

	"Hello!" I greet them as we approach, walking behind the
counter. "Welcome to the Wolf's Dragon. My name's Cal. How can we help you
tonight?"

	"Table for five, clearly," the man gestures to the two boys and two
girls with him.

	"Actually," I say. "It wasn't quite that clear, as you could have
had others coming to meet you in a minute, or been with a party already
here. Thank you for clearing that up, however, as it saves us time with
having to move anyone if the party grows larger later. Your table is right
this way."

	That came out without me meaning to, and I hope that doesn't hurt
me, being my first day and all. And the fact that that was how I reacted to
the first customer I greet alone.

	I seat them at a rounded booth table, so that we don't have three
people crammed into a seat, even if two of them are smaller, and set the
menus down in front of them, as well as the silverware rolls I grabbed.

	"Would you like to order your drinks now?" I ask, and they place
their orders. I grab their drinks while Emily takes care of another
customer that just arrived, then set the drinks down on the table. "Would
you like to order anything now? If you want to just order your appetizers
while you decide on your entrees, you may as well. Everyone gets an order
of breadsticks free, and that comes with a single marinara."

	Though regularly heavy tippers apparently get two marinara per
order that normally only gives one, which is why Gabbie and John's party
got four instead of two, according to Emily.

	"What's in the spaghetti sauce?" One of the girls, who's about
fourteen, asks a little rudely, as their family is ordering.

	"There are several kinds of sauce we serve with our spaghetti," I
answer. "Coming with three base types: red, white, and green. Green is
pesto, which uses herbs as its base. White uses milk as its base, and tends
to be creamier than the other kinds, as a result. Red uses tomatoes as a
base, and is cooked with a blend of herbs and spices, which varies based on
the type of meat added to it, if any at all. For the pesto, no meat is
added, for the white, we can use grilled chicken. For the red sauces, we
can do ground beef or pork, meatballs made of beef or pork, and grilled
chicken as the options for meat."

	"How did you know all that?" Emily is suddenly behind me again.

	"I asked you what kinds of sauces we have," I say.

	"An hour ago," she says. "And no one's ever remembered them, even
on slower nights when they first learn. Took me two months before I could
recite it from memory."

	"I don't forget anything," I tap my hat. "Perfect memory."
     "Recite our orders without looking," the father looks smug, as if
thinking he can prove me wrong with something I JUST heard.

	"For the appetizers," I hold my pad against my apron. "We have
nachos, no meat, extra cheese, an order of breadsticks, an extra marinara,
and jalapeno poppers. For you, the order is teriyaki chicken and a
salad. For you," I gesture to the girl who's ordered. "We have chili with
cheesy fries," I gesture to one of the boys, who's about
six. "Cheeseburger, no mustard or ketchup, extra pickles, no tomato, extra
lettuce, probably got some rabbit in you," I gesture to one of the other
boys, about seven, as his brother grins. "Two orders of five-piece chicken
nuggets, no barbeque sauce or ketchup, but you'd like some sweet and sour
sauce, though I can't imagine why you'd like the sour part of it, is that
because you're too sweet and need to tone it down?" His eyes widen as I
gesture to the third boy, who's about ten. "And you, young sir, would like
an eight-piece wing order, honey barbeque, with a side of fries. And you,
ma'am, have shown some interest in the spaghetti, though have yet to order,
though you have flirted with me three times, checked your phone nineteen
times, and blinked one hundred, seventeen times while I've been able to see
your face, including all of the times you did while flirting. And, you sir,
have gulped eight times, checked your phone seven, cleared your throat
fourteen times, and tapped your finger against the table eighty-six
times. Ma'am, are you ready to order?"

	"Spaghetti with red sauce, with chicken. And a salad."

	"What kind of salad would you like?" I ask. "We have four styles,
not including the salad of the day. The first is a simple Caesar salad-"
     "Salad of the day is fine," she interrupts me, probably wanting to get
me to stop talking.

	Emily follows me to the kitchen, and as soon as we're in there, she
cracks up laughing. The chefs all look at her, the lady, Amy, asking her
what's so funny.

	"We're keeping this one," Emily comes up for air. "Gregory's here,
with his usual attitude, and damn...yeah, tell David when you see him that
I definitely do have a rival in the sass department. He actually get
Gregory and Alyssa to shut up."

	"Sounds like he's leaving you in the dust, then!" One of the other
chefs laughs. "No one's ever gotten him to shut up before!"

	We resume working, the evening getting busier and busier, and if I
need any help, I grab Emily, but end up doing just as many tables as she
does. She shows me how to enter orders into the till when someone's ready
to pay for Gregory's meal, and after that, I only need to call her over
once. The restaurant closes at eleven, and I'm exhausted.

	"You're done!" David rushes out of the back right before
eleven. "Sorry, Cal, but I gotta get you out of here."

	"Why?" I look at him. We've got a couple of people still out
here. "We only just closed."

	"You got here at four-thirty-two," he says. "It's now exactly
eleven. If I work you two more minutes, you need to have an hour lunch by
law, being a minor. It's six and a half, not seven and a half, since you're
a minor. Didn't realize that, and you guys got so busy no one was able to
take a lunch."

	"Oh," I say, looking at Emily.

	"This is nothing compared to earlier," she laughs. "And I've been
doing this on my own for almost a year now, since no one's ever lasted more
than a couple of weeks. I can handle two tables."

	David pulls me back to his office. At the end of each shift, he
gives everyone the tips they earned that night. Here, the tips are put into
a box with the employee's name on it throughout the night, to prevent us
from having too much raw cash on us at a time. The moment we hit twenty,
it's to go into the box assigned to us He's already got the label with mine
on it. He gives me back the exact amount that I put in.

	"It doesn't get split up?" I ask.

	"Pardon?" He looks confused.

	"I thought tips got split between staff," I say. "Or at least,
server and cooks."

	"Oh," he laughs. "No, we pay the chefs very well, so unless someone
specifically says to tip the chef, we don't. Hosts and hostesses keep all
their tips. How did you know I gave you back the same amount you'd
grabbed?"

	"Perfect memory," I tap my hat. "I just added up all the tips I'd
received throughout the night to know how much you'd taken."

	"Emily says you're a good worker," he says. "Can you be here at ten
tomorrow? Since you have school on Monday, I can't work you past nine
tomorrow night."

	"That's fine," I say, wondering if he's serious about giving me an
eleven-hour shift, or if he just doesn't want me to work that late in the
first place. "I can work at almost any time, except when I've got school."

	"See you at ten, then," he says. "Closed sign will be up, but the
first door will be unlocked. Someone will see you and let you in the second
door."

	He wishes me a goodnight, then I hang up my apron and hat, grabbing
my jacket and pulling it on before walking home. It's a little chilly
out. When I get home, the twins are passed out in their room, and Travis is
passed out on his bed in my room. I head straight to bed after tucking them
all in, it looks like they were trying to stay up to wait for me.

	It was a Saturday, so it was rather busy. I earned almost six
hundred dollars in tips in six and a half hours. The people there tip
really well, I averaged about six dollars a table, even though most were
around two or three a piece. It was so busy, though, that I'm exhausted
enough that as soon as I'm naked and in my bed, I'm out.

~~END OF CHAPTER ONE~~

	Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! I know there
wasn't any sex, or even a possible romantic interest (though Cam is
important to the story!), please bear with me on that! NLCK will NOT take
as long as NLXK does to get into the sex, though there WILL be some time
skips between a few of the first chapters (Chapter 2 is the day after
Chapter 1, don't worry).

	My other store, NLXK, can be found at the following link:
	http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-new-life-of-xander-king/

	Feedback is always appreciated! You can email me at
kingkurt1339@gmail.com for any thoughts, ideas, comments, suggestions,
questions, etc. I try to respond to every email.

	Stay tuned for Chapter 2!