/ ** WANDERLUST

brandi: are you at the studio?

Taking a drink from her beer, Jack made her way through the throng of people. Good God, someone here was going heavy on the perfume. Quickly hurrying past them, she finally saw Charlie and grinned. Looking down at the bottle of vodka that was being offered to her, she shook her head. “Oh no. The vodka days are longggg over for me. Unless you want me with my panties off, that shit needs to stay out of my hands.” With a grin at the reminder of the earring debacle, she looked around the place. “So who was that chick coming to hit on ya? Do I need to tell her you’re here with me tonight?”

                                  her attempt at a friendly introduction had fallen on a short scale of PATHETIC, and just above the bar that was labeled AWKWARD. it was all humorous considering lydia was the epitome of lovely when it came to interacting with her businesses customers. it could twist ones mind trying to figure out how a person could be so light on her toes, airy with an inviting and intoxicating friendliness, only to then become so scrambled in social intimidation at times.  “  you’re a writer. ”  pointing out the obvious was always a solid start. 

                     the cafe owner chided herself as she slid into her open invitation of a seat. the chatter of the cafe was apparently BUSY.  “  sorry - ”  terrible habit, but spoken with a warm smile.  “  i see you in here, for what seems like daily, recently, ”  a tongue slid across her lips, eyes quickly glazing her surroundings. everything seemed to be flowing with ease.  “  i usually get to know the people who come and go through here, but other than being an enigma of the shop, i know nothing about you. ”  not that she had been entitled. it was just curiosity. though, below that layer was an anxious worry that just perhaps lyd had been bothering the woman. not everyone liked to be bothered with conversation from a stranger. 

Alison feels her cheeks warm up as soon as she recognizes the face in front of her. During her first few days visiting the cafe, she’d most definitely not missed the consistent presence of the woman and had figured she’s either a hardworking employee, who seems to be averse to having day-offs or she’s the owner, who’s rather dedicated to seeing her business stay afloat. She clears her throat, willing her cheeks to calm the fuck down, reminding herself of her situation so as to not slip and give away too much. “I’d hardly call myself an enigma; once I start talking, you will know so much about me and I can’t say that they’re all very interesting,” she chortles briefly. “Anyway, I hope you don’t mind; I’ve been using this place for my own advantages. Indoors can get really stuffy quicker than one expects, so this has been my home for work in a while now. Much like the others here, I’m just here to accomplish something, lest I feel useless in my new home.”

Lana shook her head.  “I’m a particle physicist!  But I do only the R, in R&D.  I study perturbation QCD and effective field theory techniques in high energy physics to be exact!”  As always, the title of her research leaves her lips in rote fashion, having said the phrase countless times in countless places, and she lets out a chuckle.  “I study…really, really, really tiny things, and the ways they interact with one another.”

“Maybe…”  The physicist’s voice trails, fingers tapping idly along the side of her mug.  “…maybe I could give you a prompt?”  Lana’s heart flutters in her chest; the thought of being someone’s muse rings so devastatingly romantic, if not a little saccharine, but Lana doesn’t mind the corniness. To impact someone in such a way, and conjure creativity within them.  Lana can only wonder what that must feel like.  But, being the eternally awkward woman that she is: she’s quick to clarify: “Since your muse is not here, that is.”

“That’s absolutely impressive, I will not lie,” she places a hand on the screen of her laptop and closes it, shifting closer to the table so she can carelessly rest her forearms on the back of it. It isn’t a lie when she spoke of this woman’s interest as something impressive, but there’s only too much science jargon her brain can handle until she, herself, is having a brain overload. “You know, this is my first time meeting a scientist. I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect a real life scientist to look this... well-put,” she chuckles softly. “Social media, right? Portraying you lot with massive bed hair and no other choices for clothes other than your lab coat.” 

Sean’s day is jam-packed with meetings and presentations, and when she finally has a break from it all mid-afternoon, she needs a little pick-me-up to get her through the rest of the day (the Sativa she puffed just not cutting it) and escapes to Brewphoria to get her usual mocha latte. The place is crowded when she gets there, and she can hardly find a place to sit down to get some work done (a break really is never just a break). Although she’d prefer the solitude of her own table, the CEO gives up that dream and approaches a woman sitting alone to ask if the other seat at her table is taken. Sean offers her a short but friendly smile as she sits down. “No need to apologize, my desk in my office is a million times worse.” She takes a long sip of her drink and sighs contently at its warmth. “What kind of writing do you do?” 

There is something about the woman that screams professional at Alison’s face, though it’s not to say that she minds it. If anything, her interest is piqued and she entwines her fingers together for a break, chin resting on the back of them. “I bet it is,” she replies mindlessly, eyeing her new company from head to waist -- or what is there for her eyes to see now that she’s sitting opposite to her. “Mostly fiction, but nowadays, I’m mostly into poetry, which... isn’t really my favorite genre but someone is inspiring me nowadays,” she smiles, an eyebrow arching up a tad. “If you get what I mean.” She separates her fingers and places them back on her laptop, but only to rest and not to work. “What about you? You seem like a very important person.”

charlie: do you remember f4 from early 2000?

“…and i thought you might say that..” cassie sighs tossing down her ‘delivery’ (which was just an empty pizza box she found in the trash outside the apartment building) “which is why i’m offering my weeks worth of tips at retro for them… just like a facebook marketplace trade…at least just the collar with the matching cuffs, please?”

Brandi’s jaw instantly tightens at the mention of Charlie doing other things with some wannabe from the internet.  Stop it, Brandi.  STOP IT, she’s quick to chide herself for acting so juvenile.  

“Wow, that sounds great, C.”  Brandi replies, fingers now dancing across the keys on her end of the piano, pairing an allegro with Charlie’s own ministrations. “And who’s the lucky little starlet?”

Charlie turns to Brandi with an incredulous look on her face, eyes briefly narrowing as the corners of her lips curl up in a little smile. “Try to contain your excitement, B,” she snorts, lifting her fingers off the keys. “It’s Vivienne Tsai. You familiar? She’s kind of a huge thing on Youtube nowadays,” she shrugs. “Pretty cute, too. Likes wearing chokers, dude.”

jack: well if you're ever up for a hug, just let me know. i'll be happy to oblige.

jack: oH MY GOD???

jack: tomorrow night sounds good to me. i think i'll call out of work tomorrow. i'm about to make a very bad decision so i should probably be proactive.

charlie: maybe i'll hug you from behind.

charlie: what? did i hit the spot? :)

jack: i'm going to pretend like you didn't just say aww over how small i am.

jack: oh my god.

jack: fine fine fine. when shall i meet you, oh soon to be retro date of mine?

charlie: but i did say it so... why pretend? extra effort, very tiring. :/

charlie: there's no shame in being a squirter ♥

jack: is this your way of saying you want me to hug you to just make sure that this is the case?

jack: ... shut up.

jack: oh my GOD. NO! jesus. suddenly i don't feel well enough to go to retro.

charlie: not the biggest fan of hugs but... you're small so i might like it. aww imagine me resting my chin on top of your head.

charlie: but why? i'd have to open my mouth to swallow 'wine'. :(

jack: duty calls all those other days. lol

jack: cute little....hey now. i'm... 5'4. it's not... that short.

jack: no please. no earrings. maybe swallow some wine with me though?

[jack looks down at her phone and winces]

jack: okay that sounds just... awful when i read it back out loud.

charlie: i am duty. :)

charlie: as far as i can remember, my chin can literally rest on the top of your head without me having to tilt it back a bit so... short.

charlie: ... swallow some wine.

[charlie snickers to herself as she composes another reply.]

jack: oh idk maybe text me and tell me you want to see me?

jack: i do go there so many times. tuesdays, thursdays and saturdays.

jack: or do you want me there at specific times. like, oh i dunno, when you're there?

jack: that can be arranged 😏

charlie: oh, but ma'am, i can be shy. :')

charlie: damn, that's a very specific schedule. i'm guessing those are your free days? jobless people can't relate.

charlie: yes. yes, please. i'd like to see your cute little self again.