Adrian sat outside his new house thinking about the latest direction his life had taken. He'd just recently moved from the big city of Bridgeport, where he'd been a successful architect, to the much smaller town of Branbrook where he was essentially a nobody. He hadn't had any job offers in the week that he'd been here. How could he ever hope to accomplish his dream of starting a family if he didn't have the means to support them?
"I'll be lucky to design barns around here," thought Adrian as he gazed into the vast landscape of green fields and rolling hills that stretched out before him.
With a sigh, he ambled back inside the house that was smaller than the living room in his old loft. It certainly wasn't a masterpiece of architectural design, but looking at the other houses around Branbrook, it was practically a gem.
Just because he wasn't getting any jobs didn't mean that Adrian was going to let his skills get rusty. Something would come along eventually, he was sure. Mostly.
He spent countless hours toiling away at his drafting table, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get the inspiration he needed. He hadn't had a problem like this since he'd first become an architect.
"Let's see..." mused Adrian. "What did I used to do when I needed inspiration to strike me?"
The Art Gallery! He always used to visit the local art gallery for inspiration. He wasn't sure Branbrook even had an art gallery, but he was damn well going to find out.
As it turned out Branbrook did have an art gallery and, even though it wasn't as large as the one in Bridgeport, Adrian had to admit it looked well designed. Architect though he was, he hadn't come to stare at the building so he hurried on inside wondering what, if any, masterpieces Branbrook's gallery held.
As he was looking at the relics from Shang Simla, Adrian muttered aloud about what an impressive collection it was for such a small town.
"Small town? Where are you from, stranger?" asked a somewhat imposing man who had been browsing nearby.
"I just recently moved here from Bridgeport," replied Adrian. "And no offense meant," he quickly added.
The man laughed.
"None taken. I'm an aspiring musician myself, so believe me when I say I know how dull life in Branbrook can be. Name's Hunter Barracks, by the way."
"Nice to meet you. I'm Adrian Dawson."
"The architect?!" Hunter asked, incredously.
"You mean you've heard of me? If so, you'd be the only one in town." replied Adrian, an edge of bitterness creeping into his voice.
"My buddy told me about the kick-ass home-recording studio you designed for him back in Bridgeport. His name's Drake Porter. He's the lead guitarist for The Toxic Llamas." Hunter explained.
"Oh, I remember him. Great guy, had an amazing penthouse too." Adrian just couldn't believe that someone in town actually knew of him, even if it was only through a friend.
"Well hey, look, my brothers have been complaining about how much we need a new gym. I know it's probably nothing like the jobs you're used to, but if you're free, I'd love to have you design it."
"Really?" Adrian couldn't contain his excitement. "I'd love to!"
"Why don't you come by tomorrow then?" suggested Hunter after he had given Adrian his address.
"Sounds good. I'll see you then"
That night Adrian slept the best he had since moving to Branbrook. The next morning he awoke fresh and ready to face the prospect of his first job in town. It wasn't huge, but it was a start, and Adrian was going to throw everything he had into it. After all, who knew when another one would come along?
After eating some leftover salad for breakfast (he hadn't much felt like using the few hundred bucks in his wallet for groceries), Adrian took a cab to the Barracks' residence. Maybe it was supposed to be ironic, but it almost looked as if the Barracks lived in, well, barracks. Before he had a chance to contemplate the thought, Hunter came out to greet him.
"Good to see you again, Adrian. I have to head out to band practice, so I'll leave everything in your capable hands. If you get the chance, could you please throw in a killer sound system though?" Hunter begged. "My brothers wouldn't know quality audio if the bass knocked them on their asses."
Adrian chuckled, "I'll see what I can do."
"Thanks man! By the way, I was going to ask if you wanted to come to my gig on Saturday at Red's Shed. I figured you probably haven't met too many people around town yet," Hunter paused. "Plus, to be honest, we could really use the audience," he added.
"Sounds like fun! I'll be there."
After waving goodbye to Hunter, who was struggling to load a set of drums into a cab, Adrian got to work.
And work he did. It wasn't exactly his most creative work, but at the end of the day, he was proud of it. He'd even managed to install a top-of-the-line BeoWuuf sound system so Hunter would be pleased.
Back at home, Adrian hit the drafting table again and this time he had no trouble sketching out his latest design.
As nice as it was to be working again, Adrian realized Saturday couldn't come soon enough. His social life had kicked the bucket since coming to Branbrook, and he was ready to let off a little steam.