starfucks.

“Coffee is coffee.”

“There’s a Starbucks a couple blocks back.”

“I wasn’t making fun of you… much.” Heath smiled. “I was just saying that you could have asked me to help you.”

“Right,” Cleo continued to pout. “Maybe a nice enough person wouldn’t need to be asked.”

“Corruption is hardly cigarettes these days. We’re all adults.”

“What’s your definition, then?”

    “Would you mind pointing me to the nearest coffee shop?” 

“Depends on how picky you are.”

With any part you play, there is a certain amount of yourself in it. There has to be, otherwise it’s just not acting. It’s lying.

“Well, you could just say the magic word and I would help you!” Heath burst into more laughter.

“Yeah, make fun of an overworked girl’s plight,” Cleo scowled again.

“Oh you love this giant Goober teddy bear.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Ok, just one question…. why the hell are you sleeping on steps?” Heath asked with curiosity.

“I was too tired to make it in the door. And then up the stairs. And then in another door,” Cleo answered lethargically.

Nice to meet you Cleo, I am Luke an at the moment tired musician.

Welcome to the “tired artists” club, then.

He laughed. “What’s the real reason you are here?”

“You, you giant goober.”

“It is. But it’s a good kind of different. I’d been living back there way too long anyways.” There were perks to both environments. Meeting people like Cleo, friendly, easygoing, and a fan of juice, was one of the many. “Do you have any tips for a newbie?”

“Yeah? I’ve thought about moving there a few times myself, but I’m mostly too chicken,” Cleo shared, brushing her hair behind her ear. Mike was very outgoing compared to the patrons she dealt with on a regular basis. “Take public transit, recycle, make way for bicyclists, and always buy organic. Local, too, if you can manage it.” She let out a laugh. “Just be courteous and you really can’t go wrong.”

“You and me both.” Keaton considered it a success when questions were being asked, his toothy grin got wider, and he took it as a thumbs up for stepping a few cement slabs closer. “Not exactly. I was a New Yorker for most of my life, most of my life until a little while back. I’m guessing that you’re a local though?”

Cleo laughed a little at his enthusiasm. “Yeah, I’ve spent my entire life in Oregon.” She shifted a little to get a better look at him. “Portland must be pretty slow compared to the Big Apple, huh? Probably cheaper, too.”

“Right? It’s like water that’s been horrifically tampered with.” Keaton frowned, eyes cast down in nostalgic disappointment before catching her gaze again. “I go by Mike.”

Cleo made a scrunchy face in agreement. “I mean, give me all the pineapple and mango and stuff, but that’s one tropical flavor I can live without.” She raised an eyebrow, feeling there was more to the story but her instincts had been wrong before. “You a local?”