it's called a hustle, sweetheart.

Sadie stood still with her arms folded, a scowl on her face. She tapped her foot on the solid pavement without changing expression. “Did you really think that would work?”

Damn. He thought he’d been convincing. “Not even a ‘nice try, dude’? People are so hard to please these days.”

ethan walks the length of the sidewalk to get his sights on the person. and then, his foot sinks into the sidewalk, as does his stomach and heart. an old bully. ethan dry swallows, angrily, the rushing anger in his ears and any hope for a confrontation is washed back out by a lot of moisture pooling up to his ankle. someone speaks & ethan looks down at them and then he looks to his shoe, ❝ shit, ❞ the cement sloshes as he extracts the sneaker now turned an ugly grey. ❝ thank you. ❞ ethan grumbles shyly.

“Uh, yeah.” The lack of response really killed the humor of this situation. What was he even thanking him for? Nick studied the other guy’s expression, suddenly feeling a little bad for not warning him he was about to step in the cement in the first place. He quickly pushed those feelings down. “You okay? I can’t tell if you’re pissed or on the verge of tears.”

Adrien looked down at his feet, as he thought for a second. “Well, then. I guess I’ll just stay here to either help or apologize for this,” said the boy as he looked at the street again. 

“Dude. You’re going to stand here until they come back? It could be next week. If I were you, I’d just forget it. Hell, maybe they’ll be happy to get paid for doing the same thing twice.”

“What i’m not-” Leia wanted to confirm that she wasn’t in fact stepping (well sinking at this point) in wet cement but as her eyes looked down to see her shoes covered in grey sludge, the petite girl practically jumped ten feet in the air. She moved to the side stepping on what she hoped was solid ground and took her shoes off in a huff. “you couldn’t have warned me before I stepped in it? you were walking right behind me.”

“Not what?” Nick waited for the realization to hit her. He wasn’t laughing. Yet. But he was grinning a little more than he should have been. “Could have? Yes,” he admitted, knowing very well he’d saw her walking into the mess before he uttered a word. “But this is much more entertaining, don’t you think?”

“Oh, mon Dieu. Really?” said Adrien as he looked down at his feet, only to quickly step aside where it was dry. His shoes were ruined, but that was the last of his concern, “You think the one who was working here will get mad?”

Nick couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t a funny situation, really --- but it was, because he wasn’t the one standing in cement. “Oh, no, I’m sure they won’t mind that someone ruined their hard day’s work.” 

For someone who had some pretty good reflexes, Oliver hadn’t noticed he was standing in wet cement until Nick pointed it out. It also didn’t help that he had completely ignored any and all signs that warned him of this beforehand. “Shit!” Oliver replied, jumping out of the cement and onto the pavement. He quickly stepped out of his shoes, picking them up and trying to shake as much of the cement off as possible. “Dammit, I don’t have any backup shoes.”

“It’s too bad they didn’t put up any warning signs,” Nick joked, having seen three himself. He may have been grinning, but he did feel for the guy --- it sucked stepping in anything, much less cement. He also felt like he should’ve made a shoe stand nearby, but that was beyond the point. "Tell you what, maybe I can help you out. What size do you wear?”

“How can you get the signature of a princess at her own party?” Marinette couldn’t really explain why but his story sounded fishy. “I’m new to town and was told I should come, thats why.” Her eyes scanned the other tables noticing they all had the little trinkets.

This woman was not buying it. Nick ignored her question, hoping she’d forget about her clear suspicion if he altered the subject. He hadn’t sold anything yet, the last thing he needed was his cover blown. Sometimes you just had to accept you’d lost a sell. “That so? How are you liking it so far?”

Penelope worked her tongue slowly into the fold of her cheek.  Not even remotely amused.  “And all I’m saying is think twice before you use that kind of line on me.  Unless you like mixed drinks.”

“Alright, then. So tell me, miss...” Nick hesitated, tilting his head at the woman. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“By the princess herself?” Leia asked, eyeing the pieces of paper before her. She wasn’t born yesterday. Leia could see a scam a mile away and the fact this man had no shame genuinely pissed her off. “These look like they were made by a five year old. Also, this is a celebration. Are you really going to stoop so low as to sell shitty gold painted paper during someone’s birthday and pass it off as something she even touched?” Leia asked, arms crossed over her chest. “I hope the guards kick you out.”

“Signed by the princess,” he confirmed. “They were not made by her, of course --- no one person has that amount of time on their hands, especially when they’re preparing for such a grand party.” He laughed at her comment. They might as well have been made by a five year old. “Between you and me, I think it’s a bit of a ripoff myself. $25, maybe, but $50 is high. But, well, unfortunately, I don’t make the rules.” He feigned surprise, knowing good and damn well he’d been called out. “Hey, now, what for? I’m helping raise money for her, they know I’m here, but feel free to tell the guards if it would put you at ease.”

Oliver shook his head at the offer. “Yeah, I’m gonna pass. I could probably swing at least ten of those inside.” There’s a familiarity to Nick that Oliver can’t quite place yet. Turns out, it’s that they’re both opposite ends of the con - Oliver the acquisition, and Nick the distribution, both from different teams and different lives, yet on the same coin nonetheless.

“Don’t blame you, man.” Nick knew right away he wasn’t going to get a sell from this guy. That was okay --- if he didn’t get any sells, it was okay. He would still be leaving this party satisfied if all he’d managed was some free food and a drink or two. He didn’t have high hopes, but he couldn’t let an opportunity pass. “I think they should be handing them out as party favors rather than charging the guests, but, you know how it is.”

Marinette looked at him as the Origami start was less then subtly shoved into her path. “I can easily make myself one but thank you, plus I don’t know this princess you speak of. But maybe next time.”

“You can, but they won’t be signed.” Nick raised an eyebrow at the girl, a little thrown off. “If you don’t know about the princess, why are you chilling at her party? Just the type to celebrate whenever you get the chance?”

Daphne knew the one thing she didn’t need was another helpless man in her life, but for some reason, she just couldn’t help herself. “Jesus, then just give me the shirt. If you’re not going to put in the smallest amount of effort to save it, I’ll wash it.”

“If you insist.” Gripping the bottom hem of his shirt, he pulled it over his head in a swift motion, extending the clothing item. “Of course, you’re free to keep it if you’d like,” Nick winked, “something to remember me by.”