𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒓 ,

There would always be something comforting about a bagel and a coffee. A cinnamon bagel sat on a dish in front of her as she leaned back, sipping her coffee as the Early Gull continued to fill up. The morning crowd was always intense, and somehow every year it just got crazier. Still, there were no better bagels in this side of Massachusetts, at least in her undeniably biased opinion. Indrani raised an eyebrow at a wandering patron, before nodding at the seat in front of her. "If you need a seat, that one's free. I wouldn't mind the company, and this place is only going to get more hectic." The one downside of the Early Gull was that there was always the possibility of running into her mother here— and if this morning, their schedules happen to coincide, then she would be grateful to have a feasible reason for ignoring the other woman.

the fact that someone could be in anything other than an utterly foul mood this early in the morning was baffling to lottie. of course, an early start for her was any time before noon; she forgot that some people didn't have the lifestyle of a vampire in the midst of a quarter-life crisis. "i wouldn't hedge your bets just yet," she pushed her large sunglasses up the bridge of her nose and grimaced as some suit on talking loudly on his phone slammed the door, "company is a pretty loose definition."

from ollie. / open starter. / location: the drunk fish.

zara generally didn't drink. it was most likely a side effect of watching her father ruin his life with the stuff ( one of many ), but the drunk fish made a killer virgin long island iced tea. she was used to running into familiar faces when she was there; really, she was used to running into familiar faces everywhere ( that was a side effect of living in a small town with one high school and a graduating class of less than a 100 kids ), but it was a little more unusual for a stranger to sit down next to her, and it was a lot more unusual for a stranger to pretend like they knew it each other. "alright," she set her iced tea down and leaned forward, grinning like he said something funny, "what are we talking about? the fall of society? the genius of gerta gerwig? the sublime experience of eating a chocolate fudge brownie after a very terrible morning?"

His eyes widening, Winter's face burned as he stammered, "No, no, that's not what I meant at all. I meant because I would have run into you accidentally, and then we'd both be hurt." His face felt like it was on fire, and Winter felt mortified. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I definitely didn't mean to threaten you. And it was just a joke anyway..." Apparently he needed to work on his tone, which was honestly something he'd been told before. Winter was sure that Zara was going to refuse to give him a bandaid, and he was half-expecting her to pull a weapon of some sort (pepper spray perhaps) rather than bandaids out of her purse, but then she pulled out the box. Maybe it was Winter who had misinterpreted her tone? At her question, Winter replied, "Uh...I guess Grumpy Bear? He seems the most real. Plus people would probably say I'm the most like him."

zara kept her face stoic for a moment, letting winter ruminate in his panic until she couldn't take it anymore. her lips curved into a grin as she held up her hands in surrender, "kidding. don't worry, it takes a lot more than a misunderstood joke to freak me out. i've seen things, kid, terrible things. did you know people actually try to sew themselves to their partner, and don't get me started on the amount of strange objects i've had to remove from people's...orifices." grumpy bear didn't seem entirely accurate, but, then again, zara just met the guy. it was too bad they didn't have confuddled bear or maybe bashful bear. "really? not cheer bear?" she fished out a grumpy bear band-aid and a to-go antiseptic wipe, "this might sting a little. contain the grumps for me, and i'll see if i can find a sucker in my purse."

he tries to dodge the napkin and fails, forearm taking the hit as he laughs and shakes his head, "sixteen year old me would beg to differ." it'd taken quite a while to let that blow over, but he'd managed to keep a pretty good front up in front of lottie even then it seemed. it had taken julian quite a while to even really become a person, following theo around was a bad habit he was only just breaking now. finding himself lacking an authentic personality was not the outcome he'd predicted but hey, he'd get there eventually, probably. "oh, in that case i apologise wholeheartedly," he shakes his head, a grin on his lips as the conversation fills him with nostalgia. "i think i'll stick to my violence simulators thank you very much. less time consuming." he rolls his eyes at her insinuation, though honestly he should probably take it as a compliment. "oh great, in that case i only gotta outdo the flawless french dude, sounds easy. my love life just got a lot less complicated, thank you so much." honestly lottie was the only person he ever really saw himself in a relationship with, and though they were long passed that, his own hookup behaviours felt embarrassing to admit. "what are you into then? if you're out looking. i don't think i've ever even asked."

lottie's smirk flattened a little—but just a little; she wouldn't want julian to think she pitied him. pity, in her humble opinion, was far worse than any other look a person could give you. "yeah, well, sixteen year old julian had bad taste," she leaned back against her chair and chewed on the end of her straw. she used to chew her nails in high school when she was nervous, but the 'bad bitch' acrylic coffin nails she paid a hundred bucks a month for didn't allow for such vices. she thought she'd kicked the habit and traded it for all her new bad ( far worse ) habits, but evidently old habits rose like the dawn of the dead around julian delgado. once she realized what she was doing, lottie set her drink on top of the table and pushed it out of her reach, "you know what, i bet the elven shoe boy is into elden ring. hit up kylie with a little fantasy rpg banter, and you're golden." lottie shrugged her shoulders and grinned, "or, you know, learn to speak french; honestly, it's a total toss up of which one will work." his question caught her by surprise. it probably shouldn't have, considering she teased him about his influencer babes and thirsty followers all the time, but her dating life wasn't usual a topic of discussion for obvious reasons. "i'm not looking for anything," or rather she wasn't looking for anything particular, but 'i only fuck guys who are incapable of giving an actual fuck' didn't sound so cool in the daylight. "what can i say? i'm a rolling stone, jules, and i can't be tied down."

“so i was onstage, right? just shredding the guitar, when this girl just throws a cheeseburger at me. a cheeseburger!” he laughs as he tells the story to the person sitting across the table from him at early gull. “man, those nyc crowds are wild.”

thing was, if lottie had met leon under different circumstances, she probably would've liked him just fine—but, circumstances as they were, he was the 'problem child' her brother decided to cause problems with, and the last thing frankie need in his life was a voice in his head saying all his questionable decisions were fine. personal beef ( ha ) notwithstanding, she could be polite while she waited for her to-go order to be ready. mostly. "wrapper on or off?" lottie hummed as she scrolled through her twitter feed, waiting for her name to be called.

i'm waiting around, just to wait here in a room, having a hard time watching you ... as julian casablancas sings to him through his headphones, whit takes a wide right around the next corner, turning onto one of the main streets in downtown kings haven. he doesn't usually go this way when he runs. he doesn't usually listen to call it fate, call it karma when he runs, either, but his usual running playlist just isn't hitting the same for some reason. a lot of things aren't hitting the same for some reason, and he feels itchy, overstimulated -- which is how he ended up out here running in the first place. he's lost in thought as the song slips into the second verse, quickly dodging a woman with a baby in a stroller, and maybe it's the glare in his sunglasses, maybe it's the fact that he's hungover as fuck, but -- WHAM ! he runs right into somebody, and shit, fuck, they hit the ground and he doesn't somehow, and he yanks his headphones out by the cord. " fuck, i'm so sorry, " he says through nervous laughter, holding an arm out and hoisting them up, giving them a pat on the shoulder for good measure. " i'm so fucking sorry, are you okay ? any scrapes or bruises ? god, i'm sorry, i wasn't looking. " somehow, he seems perfectly genuine, even though his lips are curled up in an amused smile. " are you okay? " he asks again.

"Yeah, but if that had happened, it would have been my fault since I just nearly took you out when you were just trying to enjoy your coffee," Winter countered, and then he chuckled softly. They were debating something that hadn't even happened, and Winter decided he'd just be grateful it hadn't. "Why don't we just agree that both of us got lucky that this situation hadn't been worse. Otherwise I might not be the only injured party here." And he was injured, Winter could tell by the way he winced trying to put weight on his leg. Looking down, he saw blood streaming down from a cut in his calf, not like horror movie level blood, but enough that the sight of it caused concern. "You don't happen to have a bandage or something, do you?" he asked the woman. "Normally I wouldn't ask, but since you're a nurse and all...I could just rip my shirt though." His shirt had gotten torn in the almost crash it seemed, and he could easily pull off a strip of it if needed. "It's nice to meet you too, Zara," Winter replied, "even if it's not under the best circumstances."

"wait a second," zara arched her brows and folded her arms over her chest, "are you threatening me? after you just apologized for almost running me over? what is this 'good cop, bad cop' psychosis?" she followed his gaze to the cut on his leg. it was minor, thankfully—in this case, slapping a band-aid on the problem was exactly the right solution. "always," she set her coffee down on one of the little tables outside the shop because searching for anything in her purse was a two-hand job. she fished around through crumpled receipts, at least five chapsticks, and enough loose change to buy herself another coffee until she found the box. "so, winter," she shook the box with a grin," which care bear is your favorite?"

"the observer can assume the sad white nerd boy acquired more sad white nerd boy stuff and not enough money to buy a house big enough to store it all." not entirely true—the basement had had storage aplenty for his collections, as nell had put it, but certainly true now. even then, his compromise had been to put half into storage along with their—her—carefully selected seasonal décor, and some of her own personal memorabilia. parker thought about those guys who could shell out twenty-five, thirty thousand for a single alex ross painting that would turn into a comic book cover. who were they? since when were people like that reading comics, an industry slowly dying because there was no money for it? none of that mattered now, of course. but it was easier to wander down that train of thought than deal with the issue at hand: the categorized downsizing of his life, packed away into neat little boxes.

lottie grinned a little secret smile as she imagined parker’s version of a “man cave”—not that nell would allow anything that didn’t go with the rest of the house’s mid-century modern, magazine ready theme, but she still liked the idea of a basement filled with anime and star wars memorabilia and a threadbare couch in the middle of it all. “your point of view is biased,” she sighed, shaking her head slightly, “you can’t see the vision, but if you’re so worried about my patrons thinking you’re broke, you can always store some of it at my place.” lottie shrugged her shoulders and made her eyes go all big and round while simultaneously looking up at him through her lashes, “like maybe your flash runs.”