— OF ALL THE GIN JOINTS

“I just don’t know what to do.” Daisy sat cross legged on the cool grass, her feet underneath her thighs and a bottle of fruity, cheap wine in one hand, a pink crazy straw bobbing up and down in it. “He just keeps showing up to all our family events even though we haven’t dated in like a year.” She took a sip, long and drawn out through the curls in the straw. “ I can’t get rid of him. He’s like an Adam Sandler movie. No one wants to see them but he just keeps making them.”

Pushing her aviators up onto the bridge of her nose again, Sydney laid back and let her sun-kissed skin soak up more of the midday rays. It wasn’t hitting California peaks, but it was still warm enough to catch a tan and break out her cute shorts. A crack sounded as she popped the cap off her beer, tipping it back and draining some of the glass bottle contents. “Have you told him to fuck off yet? Cause I’ll do it. I knew that guy was weird - he eats pineapple on pizza. Why, why, why does he think it’s normal to show up to your family’s shindigs? This is why you should never relationship. Ever.” She couldn’t wrap her head around how someone could believe that was normal behaviour. “Okay, his new ones? Garbage. 50 First Dates? Masterpiece.”

It wasn’t like Wesley wasn’t used to people talking when they finally got served. It was just that he wasn’t used to them talking quite this much about… well as far as he could tell, nothing. He was half aware of what she was saying, but was also trying to think about a case that was currently confusing the hell out of him, when she turned and spoke. “No, because I honestly haven’t a clue what you’re talking about anymore”.

Talkative. It was a word that was easily and most commonly associated with Sydney. Her brain was hot-wired to her tongue, bypassing any means of a filter so what she would say next was unpredictable at best. “Come on buddy,” She said, in between swallowing a huge dollop of cream in her mouth. “Land before Time, with the dinosaurs? Prisoner of Azkaban? Harry Potter?! If you haven’t seen them before... I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.”

“Tell me, is that– is that decaf you’re drinking?” His voice was full of implication as he stepped aside, grabbing the drink with his name scribbled on it. “Because it should be.” A smirk was hidden by the cup as he took a drink. “I only caught about half of what you just said, but no one can argue it’s the best. The entire creative direction was built off of that film, not to mention the stability of Harry’s point of view.”

Sydney waved her free hand, as if to dismiss his question. “Coffee-free frap to balance out the other 3 coffees I’ve already had today. Don’t worry, I’m responsible as you can see,” She said, consuming another mouthful of foamy goodness. “There are people out there who don’t think it’s the best. Those misguided souls. What are we going to do about them? You’re totally right. The whole dynamic was mixed up in Prisoner of Azkaban and all the fun wizardry got deep and dark.”

If there was one thing Benjamin almost relied on, it was coffee.. well, coffee and maybe alcohol, but he was trying to be better about drinking all the time so coffee would just have to do for now. Which meant this trip would make the fourth time he’d hit the shop in one single day and from the looks the employee’s were giving him, it showed. However, this time seemed to be more interesting than the other three because of the blonde standing in front of him was rambling on and on about her day, the comment about kale causing Ben to chuckle to himself. “Who’s idea was it to make all Disney movies have some gut-wrenching sadness in them and then show those to kids?” He replied, raising a brow slightly. “Not sure it was kale they ate, I vaguely remember something about tree stars? Whatever the fuck those are.” Ben continued with a shrug, a grin pulling on his lips. “You say Prisoner of Azkaban, I say Goblet of Fire. Guess that’s a win-win situation though.” He chuckled, nodding his head. “Totally get you. Next time you see the nasally girl, you should ask her if she’s part Werewolf or something. Might make your job a bit more.. interesting, don’t you think?”

It wasn’t a one-off occurrence, having Sydney blabber about meaningless things that plagued her weird but wonderful mind. She had been born without a filter and one didn’t develop, so her thoughts would pass as a verbal comment moments after she conjured them. The baristas at the coffee shop were the victims of her strange questions daily, as caffeine was her lifeline to get through days behind a desk. Not that she didn’t sneak in the quick power nap every now and then when her boss was preoccupied with meetings. She needed those boosts to get through the memeage of the day when she would slack off from projects (so, always). Normally, the other customers wouldn’t offer any input, probably to avoid being Sydney’s new subject. But this one guy piped up and Sydney couldn’t have been more thrilled. “Thank you! I’m telling you buddy, we gotta fight this. That dark shit made me grow up real fast. It was a very difficult time for me when they stopped drawing Bambi’s mom.” Swirling the straw in her drink, Sydney raised a brow. “Tragic moments of those movies have made me repress them all. Legit all I remember is you’ll always be in my heart, Littlefoot. And that one dino who always said Yep.” The next sentence almost had her choke on her drink. A dribble of cream ran down her chin. “I was starting to think you were cool, dude, and then you Goblet’d me. That’s the worst one. Why would you do this to me?” She replied, messily wiping the cream path with her bare hand. “If she’s one of the badass werewolves and not like, Twilight level of werewolf.”

“What?” Nora halted whilst sweeping and looked to Sydney, someone regular enough at the place that they exchanged names a while back and Nora gave her a discount when the place wasn’t busy. “OH.” she started to recall one of the movies mentioned and nodded. “Prisoner of Azkaban is easily the best movie of the series. But Goblet of Fire is my favorite book.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Unpopular opinion with forever be unpopular and hated,” she chuckled a bit. 

“You didn’t hear every single word of that ramble? I’m offended,” she joked, swirling the straw to mix the cream in with the iced drink. “I’m lamenting about being mentally scarred and taught the true meaning of grief through kale-eating cartoon dinosaurs and torn up because I didn’t get my Hogwarts letter as a kid, okay.” The blonde was a regular in the coffee shop, often using the staff as a venting board and getting them caught in the weird workings of her mind. She was both thankful and pitied them for having to deal with the barrage of problems and questions she’d hurl in their direction. Confirming her opinion, Sydney said a rather loud “Thank you!” in response, mouth filled with cream. “Wait no. Oh, Nora. Why, why must you hurt me like this with the Gobbledy gook of fire. You were doing so well. The Philosopher’s Stone knocks it outta the park.” 

“I’m sorry, do I have my give-a-shit face on? It’s so hard to tell without a mirror around.” She was being unnecessarily bitchy and she knew it, but she couldn’t help herself. She was already embarrassed from being caught repeatedly beating a fire hydrant with her cane; all she wanted to do was chase the person off before she could make a bigger fool of herself. “I think I’m done for the morning, so sorry to interrupt your show.” Her cane landed hard on the concrete in front of her, and there was a slight cracking noise that Ella cursed under her breath. That would be her luck. She just had to hold out hope that it would last until she got home where she kept a spare. It just made her want to curse even more, being dependent on such a stupid little stick. 

Sydney didn’t take the sharp comment to heart. She’d react the same way, if she were also caught in not-her-best moment. That, or just embrace the strange attention that would she would attract. Tilting her head to the side, “I mean if you really didn’t give a shit would you be trying to bite my head off? It’s cute. You and that attempt,” she replied coolly, keeping a calm tone about her. “I’m thinking you’ve got more of a bitchy face on right now.” For someone caught in what must be a hellish embarrassing situation, the other woman wasn’t showing her cards. It was admirable. Raising her hands up as if to say she’d back off, Sydney took a few steps to the side before the snap echoed. “Oh, fuck. Did that just...?” She really needed to head to her apartment, but her moral compass was pointing to help this girl out. Puffing out her cheeks and exhaling, Syd cautiously approached, extending a bent arm. A silent show of assistance. “Take it, Rocky. You can even give me bitch face the entire way. Just no hitting me with that right hook I bruise easily like a peach. I’m a pretty peach though.”

karl: told ya i aint doing nothing for my bday

karl: i dont really wanna celebrate

karl: im gonna be good with just like my couch tv and a drink

sydney: my dude you're making it sound like i was giving you a choice here

sydney: all i'm saying is we should go O U T, yolo like the kids say??? fuck maybe we are old...

“Excuse me! Have you seen a black cat anywhere? Cheesecake bolted out of my apartment earlier and I’ve been looking all over for him,” Honey explained quickly as she glanced up and down the street for any signs of the feline.

“Fuck you know what? I think I saw that lil squirt down there,” she said, pointing to the bottom of the street near the corner. “Bolted out in front of me. I can’t remember if that’s good luck or bad luck, crossing a black cat.” 

“Shit.” The curse flew from her mouth as soon as she stumbled into something on the sidewalk. She knew this was why she needed to actually use the cane, but she hated it. She hated it and the stupid fire hydrant that had been blocking her path. Maybe she was less than mature for raising her cane and smacking the fire hydrant a few times with it, but not enough to warrant the look she could feel burning into the side of her head. Her head swiveled around to glare. “How about you keep your nose out of my business and on your face where it belongs.”

Sydney couldn’t have escaped the random guy’s apartment she visited the night at a faster speed if she tried. It wasn’t her style--to hang around and deal with the awkward next morning conversation and possible invitations of breakfast when all she wanted was to crawl into her own bed and nurse her hangover. Her stomach had other ideas as it growled in protest. She figured she’d stop by the coffee shop on her way home, grab her traditional hangover croissant and iced tea before hugging her blankets and playing LEGO games. Still donning her outfit from the night before, the blonde sported a slight disheveled look. Her attention was drawn away from the shop’s door by an outburst of profanity from a woman hitting a... fire hydrant? The blonde couldn’t tear her gaze away. And said woman had noticed. “Me and my nose are offended, we were admiring your right cane-hook skills,” she replied back, not allowing the words to get to her. “By all means, keep going. My money’s on the hydrant this time though.”

Felix’s intended destination had been the supermarket — he was running low on both Sriracha and dark chocolate, two absolute necessities to him. However, a combination of both intrigue and resentment for long lines had resulted in him heeding a sign for an open art gallery on Main Street, and walking up two floors to view the exhibit.  He had been pacing about the studio gallery for several minutes now when he came to a halt in front of a paint-splattered combination of abstract shapes and colors that perplexed him. Turning to the person beside him, he asked, “What do you see?” 

Sydney didn’t have an eye for modern art. The extent of her appreciation and knowledge of fine art ended with Van Gogh, and she was only able to remember that due to the fact he was “that dude who cut his own ear off”. Somehow, she had managed to acquire friends that were very in on the art scene in Woodridge. If they had new exhibitions opening, Sydney was there. Albeit, she tended to hover around the drinks table, but she was still in attendance to support their achievements. Today was no different, as the blonde gazed at the stranger’s painting placed beside that of her friend. Who, was late meeting her. She almost didn’t hear him, as her mind tried to appreciate the renaissance-inspired piece. “Well he’s got something interesting going on in that book. That guy over his shoulder is digging it. Person holding it looks like he’s about to go Smackdown vs Raw for him book-spying over his shoulder,” she explained, ocean eyes moving over the painting. “If I had to caption it’d be ‘When you’re with the squad and your girl sends nudes’.”