Interactive: Mall Days, ch. 1 (Patreon)

Dylan’s forced smile appeared effortless, a trick the young man had perfected during the seemingly endless hours spent slaving away at Gregor’s Sporting Goods.  The older man he’d just rung out had given him the creeps, though you'd never know that by looking.  He’d obviously been flirting with him, and Dylan caught the other man’s eyes drifting down towards the front of his pants more than once.  He’d been tempted to call him out, but he knew it wasn’t worth the effort.  He didn’t mind the attention, so long as it came from women.  

It was just one more annoyance that came with the job.  If Dylan had his way, he’d be outside using the equipment instead of hawking it indoors all day.  It was torture to stand in the front of the store, under the hum of the fluorescent lights and chill of the air conditioner, watching the bright, summer days pass by just on the other side of the glass.  Dylan longed for the simpler times of his childhood when he could spend his days running around with his buddies, exploring the local woods or swimming in the river or camping out under the expansive, star-peppered sky.  

But college wasn’t going to pay for itself, something he was well aware of having just completed his freshman year.  Even in a midwestern nowhere town like his, an education didn’t come cheap.  If that meant he spent his days holed up selling sports equipment to little leaguers and workout gear to their overweight parents, so be it.  He was determined not to end up as one of the mindless locals he saw wandering the mall like zombies.  It started with the old folks in the morning, doing laps around the massive temple of retail instead of going to a gym.  Then came the stay-at-home moms with their strollers and screaming children, before the inevitable flood of teenagers in the evening.  

It was hard for Dylan not to judge them.  Even though he was still technically a teenager himself for another year, he’d never shared the same interests as his peers.  He wasn’t one for parties or hanging out at the mall.  He liked to spend his time outside, playing whatever sports he could get his hands on.  It didn’t matter what it was, so long as he was active and using his body he was happy.

And it showed.  With youth still on his side, Dylan’s athletic, six-foot frame was covered in lean, defined muscle.  His shoulders were broad, his waist was small, and he had a round, perky rear that, despite his relative modesty, he liked to show off in his fitted khakis.  He wasn’t arrogant, but he also wasn’t above flirting or subtly flexing his pecs against his tight polo to make a sale.  His boy-next-door face, with its bright blue eyes, dimpled smile and shaggy brown hair, usually sealed the deal if his tight body alone wasn’t enough.  

Coupled with his relatively unassuming personality, Dylan turned heads all over the mall.  He was a rarity; a handsome, quiet jock with none of the testosterone fueled antics that were so off putting.  He was a catch, but due to his work and school schedule he’d never had time for a steady girlfriend.  Still, he was a horny nineteen year old, so that didn’t stop him from sleeping his way up one concourse and down the other.  He wasn’t the kind of guy to intentionally leave a trail of heartbreak in his wake, it was just that, as with sports, he liked using his body.  And, as many of the ladies who worked in the mall found out, he had plenty of it to use.  He did his best to prevent hard feelings, but Dylan knew there were more than a few women in town who’d like to see him taken down a peg.  

“Hey man, I’m takin’ my fifteen,” Dylan called over to the older man at the other register when he’d finished ringing up the creepy man.  Mark was a stocky, former meathead only in his early thirties, but as far as Dylan was concerned that qualified as elderly.  

The burly man winked, his round, full face split by a broad smile.  “She better be older than that!”  

Dylan sighed and shook his head.  “You never get tired of that joke, do you?”  

Mark shrugged, running a hand over his buzzed scalp and flexing a bowling ball sized bicep in the process.  “I’m an old man….I gotta live vicariously through you young studs.”  

“Remember, YOU called yourself an old man this time.”  Dylan laughed and smiled on his way out, but internally he dreaded the thought of winding up like Mark; a burnt out jock on his way to middle age still working at the mall.  But that wouldn’t be him, he told himself.  He had a plan to escape.  He was going to school and working on his career.  This was just a temporary arrangement, a necessary step.  He wondered if Mark told himself the same thing when he was his age.  

Dylan pushed the melancholy thoughts from his mind and set a timer on his phone.  He only had fifteen minutes of freedom and he didn’t want to waste them being depressed when they could be much better spent flirting with the cute blonde barista at the other end of the mall.  He gave himself a once over in a store window, puffing out his prominent chest and giving his perky cheeks a quick flex before making his way down the crowded line of stores.  They hadn’t hooked up yet, and he hoped to change that.