The city was loud, fast, and always moving but Noël felt like he was standing still.
He sat curled up on the low stone edge outside a laundromat, the kind that hummed day and night with the sounds of machines and rushed footsteps. His fingers tugged nervously at the frayed hem of his sleeves, his eyes following the blur of tumbling clothes inside the glass.
He hadn't eaten since breakfast. His stomach reminded him with a soft ache, but he ignored it. He was used to ignoring things. Hunger. Loneliness.
"Another rejection." He said.
Seven places today, and not one would even let him explain.
He didn't blame them. He wasn't intimidating. He wasn't tall or muscular. He didn't have references or family. Just a paper-thin resume, soft hands, and the sweet scent of vanilla and peach clinging to his skin that, to most, spelled fragility and trouble.
It had been three months since he dropped out of university. Three months since the orphanage stopped answering his calls. Three months of knocking on doors that never opened.
_______
Avery Cheng sat in the back of his black car parked across the street, reviewing contracts on his tablet while his secretary fetched his dry cleaning.
He didn't mean to notice the boy at first.
But he did.
Slouched posture. Soft-colored clothes. No fake confidence, no loud phone calls or cloying cologne. Just a quiet scent of vanilla and peach on the breeze. warm, but subtle. Honest.
Not common.
He looked up again. The boy hadn't moved.
Noël pulled his knees closer, heart heavy with the familiar weight of failure.
He'd begged for a job at the laundromat earlier. Offered to mop the floors. Fold clothes. Even clean toilets. But the owner just gave him a long stare and shook his head.
"You're an omega, aren't you?" he'd said. "You look like you'd pass out lifting a basket."
Noël had bowed and left, cheeks burning.
He didn't cry. He never cried in public.
Avery watched him for a full minute. Something about him was... different. There was fragility, yes. But not the weak kind. The kind that was trying to stay whole in a world that kept breaking things.
He leaned slightly forward in his seat.
"Hire him," he said aloud.
His secretary, just stepping back into the car with his laundry, blinked. "Sir?"
"The omega. Sitting outside the laundromat. Offer him a position. Temporary."
"Understood," she replied, barely hiding her surprise.
She stepped back out without a word, clipboard in hand.
Noël didn't even notice her until she was standing in front of him.
"You're looking for work," she said, more statement than question.
He looked up slowly, confused by her clean, professional appearance. She didn't look like someone who belonged in his world.
"I..yes. But I don't have papers. Or experience. Or..."
He stared at her, unsure how to respond.
I represent Mr. Cheng," she said. "He's looking for domestic help. Cooking. Laundry. Discretion required."
He blinked at her. "Mr... who?"
"Mr. Avery Cheng." Her tone didn't change. "You were seen here yesterday. Again today. Are you still looking for work?"
You'd start tomorrow, if accepted. Transportation will be provided. Do you accept the offer?" She said without giving him the chance to respond to her previous question.
He hesitated. It felt sudden-too neat, too convenient. But what choice did he have?
"Yes," he whispered. "I'll do it.
She handed him an envelope with a printed address and strict instructions.
> Be on time. No perfumes. No unnecessary chatter.
As quickly as she had come, she left.
Noël looked down at the paper in his hands, trembling just slightly.
A job. A home. Maybe just a few days but it was a start.
_______
Back inside the car, Avery didn't ask for a report.
He simply closed his eyes, the faint memory of vanilla and peach still lingering in his mind.
He didn't usually notice scents. He didn't usually notice people.
But this omega, this boy seemed like the kind of quiet you could breathe in.
And for reasons he didn't fully understand…
he wanted to see what that quiet would sound like in his home.