Danika Visser.

The snort punctuates her amusement at the thought — her? In a movie? Maybe a trashy biopic on the dark underbelly of Southern America, likely overromanticized with dramatically billowing American flags and the swell of some country song. “’Bout as Southern as it gets. I’m from North Florida — that’s the one shaped like a dick but I’m up near the top. By the balls, y’know? Real classy folk up there. But we know how to party.” There’s a hint of pride, the faintest of connections to her distant hometown. Or, at the very least, her country, the foreign nature of Amsterdam suddenly seeming very different. “Well alright, then, where do we go to get one of them, whatchamacallits — drinks? And I know I’m roomin’ with Frankie and Lana. You met them?” 

“never, you’re the only hendrix girl for me — i do get to use that line on americans though, since they’re not technically hendrix people,” tiago pointed out, watching her take a drag, his whole attention captured by her lips, her cheeks, the grace she gave it to the action. “little siblings always gotta pay up, they’ve got a lifetime of owing shit,” he shrugged, leaning against her easily as she pulled him close. “think they’re all here to get drunk and high, you know, so they’ll probably all want to join — kinda shitty of them to be generalising all of us like that one guy from the neterlands you see in movies offering everyone drugs. i feel like it’s our duty to prove we’re more than a stereotype and just like, not share, you know?”

Miles laughed, shaking his head. “I’m sure we still can’t out-drink you. We’re all lightweights because our beer is watered down,” he replied, chuckling at the compliment despite still not quite believing it. Miles lived in a shell of self-consciousness and every contradicting compliment fell on deaf ears. “What exactly is this for, anyway?” he asked. “And thank you. Nice country you have here. Very roomy. Kinda cold.”

                Brunette looked up with matching hues , pondering the question for a few seconds before he stood up straight. ❝ I mean , I’ve been told I could be a great model - ❞ That was a lie. He never did. ❝  - so why not ?? Am I gonna be in this school paper-but-not-physically-paper paper ?? ❞ It’s a miracle he doesn’t trip over his own words ; there’s jet-lag from the flight , still , to the point where he almost stumbled out of the airport as if alcohol flooded his system. But , it didn’t. It wouldn’t leave a good impression – but not like he was the master of them , anyways. ❝ I can pose if y’ want – just be sure to get my GOOD side. ❞

“Me?” Beau asked, finally managing to tear his gaze away from the landscape surrounding them. He’d been taking his own photos nonstop, switching between the disposable camera he’d picked up and the Polaroid his parents had gifted him when they heard about his summer plans. Still, a gentle smile blooms across his stunned features slowly, nodding before sticking his hand out in greeting, “Yeah, of course. I’m Beau. Hi. You’re a Hendrix student?” he asked, despite how obvious the answer was, he mostly just wanted to find a way to continue with the conversation, social butterfly that he was.

“Hi!” Danika gushed with the nod of her head, an apologetic expression flashing onto her features, “Sorry, I’m Danika, probably should have started with that. But yes, you!” Emerald orbs dart down to the polaroid camera in hand, her smile further widening, “Unless you’re like me and you prefer to be...behind the camera, which I’ll definitely respect. But yes, I’m a Hendrix student. Welcome!”

“You want my picture?” Her accent rings out loud and clear, an alarm bell signaling her as unapologetically American. If not for the Southern twang, the bandana knotted around her forehead, the duffel bag hoisted on her shoulders, and the comfortable boots she wore would have given her away regardless. “Well, sure, darlin’, let me know if you want my number, too.” With a wink, she provides a saucy pose, hands on hips and nose wrinkled in an endearingly wide smile. “Now…let me put my shit somewhere and then how about that drink?” 

the jet lag was apparent over his features. darker circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep only heightening the hazel hue locking onto her own.” sure, whatever.” he exhaled, monotone with a hint of irritability as he repositioned the bag strap over his shoulder.” at this point i’d do a lot for directions to a bed.”

A grateful smile was quick to grace her lips at his cooperation, “Ah, thank you, thank you!” Danika gushed, raising the camera and quickly snapping a couple photos of him, grateful that the sun flooding in from behind the main campus was SOFT, making him look angelic. “Well...have you gotten your room assignment yet? I can help you get to your room. Or if you need a temporary bed, I can offer mine. It’s cozy.”

He looked up from what he was reading as he held his phone in his left hand. His mom was texting him to make sure he landed safe and he really didn’t mind it. He was kinda already missing home. Or maybe it was what he left behind to put on hold he was going to miss. A school paper. “I’m not one for photos that are for the school, not gonna lie to you.” He let out and shrugged a little bit as he ran his hand through his hair. He took his jacket off when he landed because it was far too hot. His tongue pushed into his cheek as he chuckled a little bit. “I’ve been to Amsterdam far too much for it to be my first drink here, but the offer is sweet, beautiful.”

“Look our online newspaper is actually really tasteful. The graphic design majors really know their shit and the editors give us the photographers, a lot of artistic liberty. If you don’t approve of the photo, I promise to not actually use it, I just have a quota to fill.” Danika was desperate at this point, flashing him a perfect pout and she got a little closer to him, hovering just beneath him, “Please?” The wind was a bit more rambunctious than normal, whipping strands of hair across her face as she reached up to brush raven locks behind her ear, “Ah, it’s a shame I haven’t run into you before then.”

it was a bit overwhelming being in a totally new country and trying to not only adjust to the time zone, but another language and culture. on his way into the university he  was ideally trying to avoid most kinds of interactions but his wishful thinking was put to an end as a brunette wandered into his path, “ah look i’m flattered but… like i don’t really do photos.” this was perhaps his poorest effort at a first impression.

A pout preyed onto her lips as she batt her lashes at him, “Oh come on, please?” Danika begged, hand reaching out to gently wrap around his wrist, “Look...I can 1000% promise you that we won’t use the photo of you. I just...am nowhere close to my minimum amount of photos and I get reviewed for how many different frames I can compose.”

“sorry to disappoint, just a hot brazilian,” tiago grins, instantly handing her the joint as he waits expectantly, trusting dani to always have something to liven up his afternoon. as she pulls out the vodka, his eyes are nearly sparkling with excitement. “you’re my favorite around here, did you know that,” he says, almost sounding sincere as he reaches out to grab it and take a better look at the label, eyeing it carefully. “why are you just carrying this around, were you planning on getting wildly drunk in the middle of the day just to make sure you leave a remarkable first impression on the gringos?”

“Little do you know, I’m already on my sixth beer,” Miles joked, his sobriety obvious based how easily the words flow. “Anyway, go for it. Just make sure you get my good angle.” Posing for the camera with all the drama of a four-year-old, Miles then returned to his people watching, running a hand through his hair. “Must kinda suck playing babysitter to a bunch of American adults.”