I Wanna Scratch Your Surface.

Atticus chuckles heartily as she shades his ‘friend’, “Guess I’ll tell her that. I’m not really a script consultant, but I am fond of inserting my opinion when no one asked. Maybe you know that feeling.” He’s fully teasing her now, and he can only hope that his grin and the softness in his tone convinces her that it’s just that. It’s definitely a risk even if it seems like a valid assessment, but he feels like there’s still about a 50/50 chance that she’ll be offended. “The original Gossip Girl,” he muses, folding his hands in front of him as he weighs that question with all the seriousness it deserves. “I’m definitely picturing a Socrates vibe, you know? The OG GG has to have been Greek, right?” He’s able to picture it so vividly that the ball just keeps rolling. “Maybe they went by Hermes… and now I’m definitely gonna have to look up what the Greek alphabet equivalent of ‘XOXO’ is, or it’s gonna keep me up all night.”

The female dog delighted in the attention she was receiving from Lennox. Holden was used to immediately moving the dogs away from people because Aurora especially jumped. But Lennox didn’t seem to mind at all. Nonetheless, Holden had successfully made her get down and the dog proceeded to place kisses on the woman’s wrist, leaning up to sniff her face and then lick her on the cheek. 

“Sorry about her… she’s very intelligent and knows how to behave, but chooses not to. The joy of Huskies,” he joked. He loved having them and was glad he chose to have them. They were a hilarious breed and a lot of fun. 

“No, that’s just you. I’m definitely a whiskey guy. You’re the only one who’s made drinking margaritas a good experience so far,” he laughed, remembering the times they used to hang out. A lot had gone on since then and he regretted that they’d drifted away. “What are you doing now?” he asked her. “I wouldn’t mind catching up, that is if you don’t mind these animals in your house. I could always take them back home though.”

Bear turned to him and licked him almost impatiently, like, ‘can we keep walking?’ and Holden stroked the fur on his head. “Good boy,” he said. “We’ve been walking for a couple miles. I’ve got to watch the heat–Huskies don’t do too well in the heat.”

“Hmm.” She muses as she looks at the dogs, smiling and reaching her hand out to give Aurora some more affection. It’s easy to fall back into step with Holden, and whereas normally she wouldn’t bother herself with a friend who’d fallen out of touch, the huskies are helping him out.

“I suppose you could save some of my students from my unyielding wrath.” She muses thoughtfully, her students had been turning in concepts for the writings they would do for the entire semester. For some, this was a way to have a professional edit the book they’d been dying to write. For others, who didn’t have a plan, it was hell on earth. “And save me from the migraine a few of them are wishing to give me.”

“Refill?” they ask, motioning to the drink. “Some musicians don’t believe that. Y’know, I’ve got the best taste in music, these kids don’t know it, that sort of thing,” they shrug, “I like it, but I won’t make a career out of it.” It’s not something they want to make a career of, fearing that once they started doing it outside of their home, or not with friends, they won’t love it anymore. The idea of work killing the love. “I was about 12 or 13 when I started, so for about 17 years?” they say, but it was sort of a grey area, those few years, “My mom figured it was easier to give me something to focus on but every kid reacts differently when their parents get divorced.”

It was official–Faith liked this woman, if only because she seemed just as predisposed to calling people out on their failings. “He checked off both of those marks,” she laughed, “and thank you, it really was a tragedy while I was in it.” She was already delighted to hear her new acquaintance was a professor where she went to school, but the mention of Stanford made her gasp. “Oh my gosh, I did my undergraduate degree there! I tended to like the stuffiness of it but I can’t blame you for wanting to teach somewhere else, you’d be stuck there a lot longer. So should I assume you teach English, then?”

“     —- i know ,   i know …      don’t show up unannounced.    ”        announcing himself ,   he pushes through the door with one too many bags and trays  - for as much as he claims to know ,     there seems to be a discrepancy in his actions .    either that ,    or he’s intent on breaking those set grounding rules on purpose .      “   before you get mad at me ,   I’ve come bearing gifts !        i brought coffee .     and tea .     and soda …      I don’t know what the middle one is ,    but it looks healthy and I wouldn’t touch it .      i wasn’t sure what you liked,    so   —— i just got everything to be on the safe side .        how’s it looking for me ?      ”    @thegoodprofessorhill​

“This is gonna sound so fake, but I just happened to have it on my phone,” he defends himself with a wry grin, knowing he wasn’t actually trying to impress her but not bothered by her thinking so. “And c’mon, I had to show you after that comment,” he says, gesturing toward her with his glass, “It was too good to pass up.” Atticus sips on his wine as she speaks, and her description of herself earns another chuckle. “Technically cavemen didn’t have books, did they? So you’re thinking far too modern,” he shakes his head at her teasingly, “If it’s not stone tablets or stories relayed through cave paintings then I don’t even wanna hear it.”

“That’s subjective,” Temple ponders, “I can’t say I am. It’s a hobby.” They loved it, that much is for sure, but wasn’t about to stand on corners and busk, or link everyone to their music. They just played it for their own enjoyment, “Uh, guitar mostly. I have a ukulele too. And a theremin just because I’m weird like that and scary noises have a soft spot in my heart.”

Holden didn’t know what it was about today, but he was walking his two Siberian Huskies when Aurora managed to pull the collar over her head. “Fuck–” a curse left Holden’s mouth. They had never gotten free of their collars before. Bear threatened to try to take charge of Holden’s walk, but he commanded him to stay and had trained him well enough to keep up with him, instead of pulling on his lead and trying to pull ahead, so Bear obeyed and stayed with him. 

The female Husky, however, had come free and dashed toward the nearest person she saw, Holden’s friend @thegoodprofessorhill​. He was lucky that the dog took interest in her, because it would have taken Holden a while to get her back. She was definitely more high-strung than the other dog and not trained as well, but just as sweet, barking and showering Lennox in kisses. Holden had the day off work and had been just enjoying his time out with his dogs. “Sorry,” he called towards Lennox, heading her way with Bear walking well with him. “Hey…” He let a small laugh escape as the dog excitedly kissed on Lennox. “Aurora, down. Down, girl.” She obeyed after the second ‘down’, and Holden ran a hand through his hair before pulling the collar and leash back over her head. “That’s never happened before.“ He shook his head and laughed. “So. Long time no see. How are you?”

Lennox Hill was on a mission, to get more coffee and make these first drafts bleed with red ink. She’d bought a new batch of her favorite red pens to commemorate the occasion. She hadn’t thought she’d go through so many of them though. It seemed some of her students hadn’t equated the standards she upheld when talking about the works of others to her critiquing their papers. 

She’s stewing over what to get for her morning coffee, whether she should indulge in something with whipped cream or just stick to the dignified order. That’s when she notes the beast barreling towards her on the sidewalk. A smile cracks her features, because any human who could withstand the charm of animals, specifically dogs, should be banished to an island of sneaks. “Hello beautiful.” She coos, letting the creature leap all over her as she coos and pets it. “You’re such a pretty girl.” 

Faith cracked a rare smile, a little impressed by the woman’s stoicism even in the face of her dry tone. “Oh, he was. Arguably the worst.” She lifted her eyebrows when she was told the other blonde was indeed a professor, which at least made sense. All college professors had a feel about them. Regardless, she found herself reluctantly liking this woman. “You are telling me,” she said emphatically with a shake of her head. “If it wasn’t for the sun and the warm weather I couldn’t stand to live here with these people. Thankfully it is.” She flashed another smile. “Anyway, where do you teach? Don’t tell me UCLA.”

Her evaluation of him makes him sputter with laughter, “Thanks, I hate that.” He slips his phone back into his pocket, then leans his elbows on the table next to her. “Does it help if I tell you it’s not my screenplay? I’m working on the thing, but I didn’t write it,” he says as if he expects her to care about that. Really, her comments just make him feel oddly defensive, even if he’s not ashamed by his movie work at all. “You’re one of those ‘put the phone down and live in the moment’ people then?” he asks as he reaches for his glass of wine, actually interested to hear what she has to say, if only because she’s so blatantly judgmental, “I mean, genuinely asking.”

They laugh softly, “I play music but I wouldn’t count myself as a musician. No one hears it but me, and my neighbors. Everyone has their vices, and that’s what I take it as,” they shrug, “Exactly. Music is just that, I’m not going to judge someone for not listening to the same music as me, because it’s whatever makes you happy, y’know? “

There was not a more accurate description of Rose.

“I know nothing about Montana nor its men nor its sheep. Manhattan, however, I know well. I grew up there.” Bringing her own glass to red painted lips, “If you’re off-off broadway you’ll be thrust into the avant-garde. If you’re in Sugar Hill you’ll never want to leave. There’s a special energy there that I miss.” 

Sometimes she missed New York so much her heart wept. She remembers dancing in Harlem. Chicago, Paris… It wasn’t the same. Returning her gaze to the woman next to her, “I’ve recently moved here from Paris… So I’ve yet to fully understand LA mentalities.”

“Don’t do it.” Rose warned, “You’ll end up disappointed. And bored. So, so bored.” 

She wasn’t often found at the bar, here only for a meeting with her agent which had long passed. But Rose wasn’t one to say no to a drink and while she had her own money having people buy them for her was always a nice treat. She had debated heading home when the woman next to her spoke, and Rose decided she liked the cut of her jib. Enough to hang around a bit longer at least, “Not from around her?” 

Atticus’ phone might be almost permanently attached to his hand, but he still nods at her disdain for it. He doesn’t particularly care either way, though it’s hard to argue with her point. Her suggestion that he’s another one of those LA people earns a chuckle from him. “Would you be shocked if I pulled one out right now?” Mirroring her smirk, he digs the aforementioned phone out from his pocket and pulls up just that — a screenplay, though it’s not his own, which he slides over to her. “Do I actually look that much like some desperate film bro?”