Things Will Look Better in the Morning

"You there! Got someone special in your life you want to get a gift for?"

"If you are implying a valentine, then not in the traditional sense, no." Benak said, "However I do love to celebrate my friends. What do you have to offer?"

Anyway. Sally was going around Town Hall, a bit unnerved by the amount of security present at the party. It made sense --who knew if the culprit of those poisonings had any associates still on the loose...? And to add to all that, there was the unshakeable feeling Sally had that, despite having captured the supposed responsible of the poisonings, something was wrong. Missing, even. It had been too easy.

"These canapés are quite good, aren't they?" she commented to someone standing nearby, trying to distract herself.

Looking at the spread before him, he smiled when he heard a voice.

"Oh yes, everything is quite good, I'm very impressed." Benak praised. "As I am with your very unique costume. I mean that as a full compliment."

"Ah see, it wasn't as big of an occasion in India, so big festivities such as this did not really come into my life until I was well into adulthood. So it's all been exciting since." Benak explained. "What was it like for you as a child?"

"Jeez, book recommendations," Terence muttered under his breath, a faint blush creeping up his neck. The question had caught him off guard, and his mind raced through his recent reads. His personal library leaned heavily into a certain genre, and he quickly realized he might be in a bit of a bind given the unspoken parameters of the request. No gay subculture or hints of homosexual desires? That eliminated... well, most of his favorites.

He cleared his throat, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "I don't know if what I read will be up to your taste, but Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston is a fun read..." He trailed off, mentally kicking himself. The book was indeed fun, but it was also unapologetically queer. He hoped his recommendation wouldn't be met with an awkward silence or, worse, a pointed stare.

"My apologies, I did not mean to catch you so off guard." He reassured him. "As for that book.....it was a fun read. Perhaps a bit too......how do they say it, Booktok for me, but I always appreciate stories about gay men. That's actually partially why I'm here now, I figure that given it being pride month and all, perhaps they have ordered more LGBTQ books for the occasion."

"Well sure, what kind of books are you interested in?"

"Anything really, I happen to spend most of my time reading. What do you like to read most?"

Coming out of the ophthalmologist (now wasn't that a fun word for Scrabble night) Sully blinked as the midday light briefly blinded him. He wasn't really excited about needing reading glasses now, but it could be worse. He could need everyday glasses. It could be a hindrance for his work. No, he was lucky, in a certain way. Pity that his job benefits didn't include paying at least partly for his brand-new eyewear, though.

Now, the doctor had said he had to wear the glasses for a little while to get his eyes used to it. Sully knew he meant 'at home', but still he left them on as he stepped out of the building, making sure they didn't squeeze his temples too much, and that they didn't slip off the bridge of his nose. Everything seemed okay so far.

PIcking out the case from his jacket pocket, he remembered he still had a pack of peanuts in there. He popped a few into his mouth, and headed to leave the doctor's doorway, when he accidentally bumped into someone.

"Oh --sorry. Didn't see you there," he said, mouth still full of peanuts. Immediately, he gave them an awkward smile. "Well, isn't that ironic."

"Oh no worries at all, friend. This is my mistake, my apologies. I should have been watching where I was going, most certainly outside a place such as this." Benak offered in apology. He thought for a moment. "Might I make it up to you by helping you home? Or wherever you were looking to go while your eyes adjust?"

Guinevere turned around to meet the eyes of the man standing behind her. She smiled wide. After all, she knew she had good taste, but it was always nice to have it acknowledged by someone else. "Well, thank you."

She gave him a look over. Never seen him. Probably not particularly rich or influential, then. Unless he was a newcomer? Regardless, Guinevere decided that he must have had good taste too, to recognize it in someone else. "What will you have? If you don't mind me asking."

"I'm here for some rose and jasmine." Benak said. "I make my own teas. Tea is best, that way. It may seem a bit extra to go to all that work, but the alternative are those bland, prepackaged tea bags...."

Fall had begun, but there was still a trace of summer in the air, or at least whatever was left of it. There was no stopping the passing of seasons, regardless. It was the time of wilting and decay.

Really, shopping for the house was the sort of thing Sofia always did, following her stepmother's careful instructions. But, as it was becoming a bit of an unpleasant habit, Sofia was spending her mornings occupied with other things, instead of taking care of her chores. Until Guinevere decided to hire a maid or something (an idea she was not fond of), there were some small things she could do herself.

Like buying flowers, for instance. The Orchard House's garden was a marvel, as always, but it used to give less flowers as the weather started to change. The white lilies were still holding out, thankfully, so that was good. She had a sudden craving for the splash of red only poppies could give, though, so she went to the local flower shop to purchase some.

"These ones, yes," Guinevere said to the salesperson, pointing at a handful that seemed particularly fresh and healthy. "Be careful with them."

"My apologies for interrupting," Benak said, "But I simply wanted to say that you have lovely taste in flowers."

trying to take his mind off of it, he turned to the bar and ordered another beer.

@happieststarters

Benak went up beside a man who had just ordered a beer. He turned to him.

"I'm terribly sorry, would you mind holding this book for a moment while I get out my wallet? I don't particularly want to get it all sticky-"

Mingling through the crowd now, Ray's smile was beaming so bright it could probably be seen from space. Turning at a tap to his shoulder, he smiled at the person infront of him. "Thank you! Welcome to Evangeline's! Are you enjoying yourself?"

@happieststarters

Fortunately, he had remembered just in time, and now found himself amazed at how great the establishment had come together.

"I'm enjoying myself just fine," Benake said with a friendly smile, "You really made a wonderful place here, absolutely stunning!"

Tiana’s shopping cart was nearly full by the time she took her place in the checkout line. Her mom had needed groceries, too, so Tiana had been shopping for twice the groceries she usually did. That shopping cart was heavy.

Her eyes drifted to the assortment of candy next to the checkout line. It’d been a while since Tiana had eaten a lot of these—Starburst, Twix, Snickers. She was still examining the selection when the line started to move forward, and Tiana pushed her cart forward, too.

Oh, no! The man in front of her was slower than she was, and the shopping cart bumped into him.

“Sir, I’m sorry,” Tiana told him, backing up instantly. “That was my fault. Are you okay?” She hadn’t bumped him very hard, but she thought she’d ask regardless. The man was one Tiana didn’t recognize, with striking features and a nose straight as an arrow.

So here he stood, trying to figure out which candies he'd like, a cart behind him pushed into him. A young woman looked up at him, all apologies. Benak waved her off with a warm smile.

"Oh, it's no worry." He said, "It's my fault, I have quite a tendency to get distracted within my own thoughts sometimes."

"I'm more of a music writer than a story writer, although music tells stories-" He babbled on. He was a famous singer after all, his band had toured multiple countries, and he had golden plates hanging on his wall at home in redwood.

"You've caught me red handed, friend. I'm a man in academia-as they call it. Sounds stuffy to say, but it has allowed me to travel the world, several times over." Benak answered. At the word music, Benak's face lit up.

"Ah! Wonderful! To be able to write music is an impressive skill, I've had many musicians in my past, for better or worse."

"M-me?" Sofia stammered, startled by the question, as she jumped in her seat and almost dropped the romance novel she had in her hands. She had the slightly unfortunate habit of getting so engrossed by a book, she often forgot where she even was.

She gave the slightly familiar-looking man a quick look and relaxed her shoulders. He didn't seem bothered by her, nor did the question seem particularly urgent or annoyed. In fact, it sounded to her like the sort of question asked to very intelligent people, the kind that flaunt their knowledge. Sofia was prone to babbling on and on about what she was passionate about, but she wouldn't exactly call herself knowledgeable --not as much as very informed on a few specific subjects.

"I... It's no bother," she said, putting her book down and fixing her hair. "Why...? Excuse me, but... Why do you ask?"

He bowed his head slightly, then looked back up towards her.

"I've been thinking about getting in to writing books. Non fiction, likely, although a jungle book for children does sound rather exciting. My coworker keeps suggestions that I write a memoir, but that feels far too arrogant....I don't think I've done enough yet, but perhaps there are specific experiences of mine that are important to talk about---I just.....it feels so odd to consider putting myself in the spotlight."

hearing someone speaking, it took her a moment to register that they were speaking to her. "who?" she asked "me?" she asked again, pointing to herself "i don't know if anyone would want to read about any of my work"

His years of teaching moved him to keep speaking with her, in hopes that perhaps he could help her feel more inspired to express herself, however she wanted.

"I often feel the same about my own, which is the cause of my pause. However, all my years of traveling the world, and all my years of teaching have taught me that there is always someone who wants to read about your work-or any idea that comes to mind. You could write someone's favorite story--or essay, if that is more your style."