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“So it sounds like you’re my boss for the day.” he’s not shy about undressing; though for now it seems his shirt is the only thing he’s going to remove until told otherwise. Green stretches nonchalantly, rolling his shoulders until they pop with a satisfied groan.

“Your kinda people do good work. I’m trusting you, y’know.” he’s actually being very honest; though it’s a kid almost six years his junior, the guy still had more experience here. Green would have to benefit where he could, so he’s a willing mannequin until competence is disproved.   

So far his job was more or less to display clothes in real-time. Green certainly does that, appreciating the fact that he can look brand new almost every day. He sprays just a bit of cologne--not an overwhelming amount--before making his approach. It’s always bold, but never startling, as if his presence alone is loud enough to catch someone’s attention. A pair of legs splayed a bit too wide, perhaps.

But he means well, from the bottom of his heart. 

“Lemme guess...you’re a lavender kinda girl. If you’re not, I’d consider it,” there’s a wide, obvious gesture to her hair, “It’ll make your natural assets pop.” 

A pause; he’s sure to give her plenty of personal space. Green hums thoughtfully, running a hand through his scalp.

It’s pretty obvious what she’s doing. And it doesn’t matter that he was--briefly--doing the same thing just days before. Green takes the stranger in fully, does his personal evaluation, before strolling to her side with spider fingers crawling right up the advertisement to get her attention. Growlithe of course is at his heel, sniffing at her ankles and feet as if conducting his own test. The Pokemon barks, plops down and makes eye contact with Green. 

“My buddy here says you look pretty serious. Does a dame like you really need the work?”

Green was still convinced this guy didn’t exist. It wasn’t that the idea that Red had friends was impossible--just...really, really weird. Back home he almost refused. Here Red was more or less forced, but now with that cave of his it seemed just as unlikely. Green had of course asked questions pertaining to the guy, but Red wasn’t the best story-teller.

The text wasn’t rude, but it wasn’t exactly helpful either. A date and a time, a place where he could grab a drink or a coffee, a name and an agenda.It wasn’t Green’s business who Red associated with, he later explained over the phone, but he was interested. He couldn’t help it. What sort of person had done what took Green years in a matter of months. It was less jealousy and more bewilderment. And who knows, maybe this guy could read something in Red that Green couldn’t--

No, that wasn’t possible. This was just a fluke. Green had been stubborn too after all, and Red wasn’t a hard guy to like once you peeled back all thirty layers. He’s glad Red is making friends. He just wants to know how this guy did it and figure out how to emulate that say...two or three more times. Or however many Red wanted. 

That was all. 

He takes his coffee black. It burns going down, but it wakes him up. The place is quiet, his chair swivels in front of a well-tended bar and his feet can touch the ground. All in all it seemed like a good choice. He’s wearing a lavender button-up, charmingly scuffed shoes and cargo pants that only reach his calves part-way with a flare at the end. It’s already hot out, and no amount of good air conditioning or cute waitresses was going to fool him into knowing otherwise. 

Green is leaning out of his chair to feed Growlithe a croissant when Haruka comes into view. They’d agreed on a call sign, and once eye contact was made Green offered the promised salute. He pushes a plate of pancakes the other’s way.

“Haruka, right?” he’ll let the other confirm or deny it before continuing, “...you a morning person or something?”