particular taste

Nobody knew flowers like Winnie did, Willa knew that, and so did everybody in this room. Truthfully, they could have said just about anything, and it would be taken as bible — they were the expert. Nodding along, capturing the tumble of words and neurosis with a smile, she gently rubbed at their arms, "Winnie, you need to breathe — come on, think of it like... talking to me about flowers, just look at me if you need to, and imagine you're teaching me how to put together this bouquet, but like — to a room of eager and willing people."

Monroe sat back in the chair, looking around the cafe area, carefully holding his mug to his lips and taking a drink. He was notorious about spilling his drink on himself, doing it at least once a day without fail. He nodded and thought for a moment. "I mean, I am always down for a collaboration, especially with you." He said with a smile as he sat up. "I mean, we can obviously have some of your food here, any desert type things, maybe even like a buy a book, get a discount thing. I'm sure we can come up with something."

Being granted a sociable nature was a gift that Willa was entirely grateful for; not many could form connections, or make impressions like she did — that wasn't to say they were all positive, sometimes, she made bad impressions, saying the wrong thing, or insulting somebody unintentionally. Despite those rare few moments, she was well-versed in 'social butterfly' speak. In fact, it was crucial in business. It was how, even with her lack of experience, that she had been able to take Seoul Kitchen to new heights.

"That obvious?" Jack countered with a last, dying cough and a lopsided grin that fought against the downturned corners of his mouth. "I'm usually a pint of whatever's on draft or a whiskey neat kinda guy. The price you pay for being adventurous, I suppose." He glanced back towards the drink he'd ordered, plucking it up from the bar top and turning it this way and that in scrutiny. He sent a skeptical look at her. "Is it always this sweet?"

In her defense, the first ever drink she ever had had been a concoction that combined Alizé and Sprite, and for a first drink — it was amazing, because it tasted nothing like what she expected, which was probably on par with what a beer’s flavor palette would be. Now, almost always, she hoped most alcohol tasted like that — and when it didn't? She'd still drink it, she just wouldn't enjoy it that much. Drinking hard liquor was something of a self-inflicted punishment. When the amber colored liquor was placed before her, she eyed it carefully — warranting herself a quiet sigh, barely audible over the general buzz of the bar.

"They're only unwanted if the person listening is stubborn." She smiled. Hadlee had their own opinions that people didn't like to hear either, but that only stopped them about half the time. "Honestly, I'd like to see more people like that at these; there's a lot of people with the same bo- opinions that you'd find in any review online."

Willa wanted to reserve judgement for when it was warranted — and she was trying damn near hard not to assume that this was exactly what those mean moms who drove Range Rovers would do when they weren’t spending their partner’s hard-earned cash. See? It was too hard. Then again, Starlight Oaks wasn’t exactly that type of place — not many people like that existed here, and if they did, they’d be forced to eat a plate of humble pie by one of those nice, but not really that nice, old ladies around town.

For all her usual chatter, Cassie is a great listener. Although she might not always know the best thing to say, it couldn't be denied ( though for some, hard to believe ) that she always knew when and how to lend an ear. To Cassie, few things lifted that weight on your shoulders more than letting out messy thoughts and feelings to a good friend, so she'd always prided herself on being that good friend to others, and judging by her opener, Willa desperately needed this.

Wasn’t that how it went? Rough and tumble familial expectations, convoluted by society’s prying interest in what one might or might not attain in their lives — it was one thing — dealing with her mother’s voice at the back of her mind, the constant reminder that she didn’t do what she wanted, disappointing her, but — that other voice? The even louder one? The ghost of judgement from those in family’s circle — her aunts, her uncles… the comparisons to her cousins; passive-aggressive, enough to unnerve even the strongest of wills.

Banks mimed zipping his lips when the other told him off, but couldn't help the smirk that followed as he watched her try to beat his score in the game. They were only competing with each other at this point. "Didn't you think that was the point?" He grinned then, despite seeing her score light up behind them both and knew that it was going to take a bit more than distracting her with a weird story from his past to keep them from winning completely. "Mario family. All of them, except for the kids that came and went through them," he added with a shrug. "You could only fake it so long before it started to get to you too." Though he hadn't stayed long enough to figure out what happened to those that started to be obsessed as well, if they ever got adopted or were passed along with the rest of them.

The competitive streak had caused one too many fights growing up around here; Willa enjoyed winning — and there was this sense of accomplishment that came with it, even if it was for something as silly as arcade basketball. Blame it on her tiger mom of a mother — it was any wonder she didn’t crack under the pressure, growing up. Well, let’s be honest — she probably did. How else would somebody explain her being a college dropout? Or was it college burnout? An amused, albeit defiant look appeared on her face, gaze lifting to the flashing scoreboard, “I wouldn’t say you were that successful, now would you?”

WHERE: cosmo bar. WHO: jack & OPEN. [ @starteroaks ]

Maybe she should have been downing one of the free bottles of soju at the restaurant, but — she needed to be far away from there tonight. Her mom had gone on a particularly unkind rant about how Willa had been doing things, and honestly, she just couldn't bear to listen to it anymore; up on her feet and right out of there. She was probably in for an earful tomorrow, but that was a problem for future Willa. Present Willa was desperately in need of a drink that wasn't likely to earn judgement from her overbearing parent.

who: @willathyssen where: starship arcade

"Banks, shut up," Willa's voice came out breathless, frustrated at her fifty-percent success rate — she was better than this. It wasn't his fault, but he wasn't helping her either. Eyes offered him a quick side-glance, then returned to the task at hand. Sinking hoop after hoop. That was the goal. Lifting the basketball, with an easy flick of the wrist, she watched with relief at the swish of net when the basketball swam smoothly through the hoop once more. Finally, turning completely towards Banks, she rested a hand at her hip, a self-gratifying smile on her face, "Okay, sorry, but you were distracting me. Wait, rewind a sec. Who the fuck is obsessed with Mario? Like, being a Disney adult — annoying, but I get it. Being a Mario family?" A loud scoff, shaking her head in disbelief, "Weird."

LOCATION: celestial petal ( national floral design day ) STATUS: closed / willa @willathyssen

When Willa gets a 911 text, she acts immediately. Drops whatever she's doing, makes arrangements, does whatever she needs to to help whoever needs her. Well, really — that only applies to a select few in her life. Winona, included. Her arms were crossed over her chest, the small of her back leaning against the edge of the counter, eyeing her friend with a glint of humor in her gaze, but the sheer panic in their expression kept Willa's brutal honesty at bay. The smile on her face disappearing, replaced with a look — she hoped — of reassurance, "What? Of course not! This is a great idea!" Yeah, even she didn't believe that. Pushing herself into her full height, she came to rest her hands at her friend's shoulders, "Come on, you got this — and I'll be right here if you need me to step in."

"I've had coffee," Kennedy shared matter-of-factly. "Unfortunately, I made the mistake of not making it with Red Bull, so now my eyes refuse to stay open." She normally wasn't one for dramatics but she wanted to let out the loudest groan in the world over how frustrated she was with herself. Never again with the Netflix binges. No matter how enticing the storylines got. She had to remind herself that there would always be tomorrow.

"Coffee and Red Bull is actually a thing?" Her expression spoke for itself; it read like something of perplexity and genuine amazement. Made sense, she supposed. It was 2024 — everybody's so creative! Willa watched on in amusement, allowing her dark orbs to rove Kennedy with that cocky, shit-eating expression she'd wear a little too often. One that shuttered the moment she pulled focus to the stack of papers now on display for the both of them, a soft snort escaping her, "Nothing new — just my mom, thinking we need to drum up more business. And there's nobody she can boss around more than me." An equally loud groan, to match the counselor's sounded, plopping herself in the cushioned seat across from her, "What's the point of becoming the boss, when I still get bossed around? Ugh."

A book club, huh? Like the ones she saw in those shows and movies, filled with uppity Stepford wives and stay-at-home moms? Not that there was anything wrong with being either, but — it wasn't Willa's thing. Though, to Lightyear Library's credit, neither type of women appeared to be present. "I'm not sure book clubs and I are a good match — I have a lot of unwanted opinions," she admitted with a forced grin; because, honestly, Willa spent half the time in her books, seething, cursing at the protagonist.

STATUS: Open to anyone LOCATION: Community Center

Late nights weren't a new thing for Willa — since taking the reins for the restaurant, she hadn't seen a sensible sleeping hour in months. Considering she had help, you'd think she'd have gotten her head around the idea of sleeping before midnight now — but you'd be wrong. Why was she even at the community center? Her mom mentioned handing out some flyers to the youths and families that frequented, encouraging more traffic to Seoul Kitchen, and Willa was definitely scraping bottom of the barrel if she was the one doing the grunt work. Dropping the stack of printed flyers onto the table, she caught the eye of a very sleepy Kennedy, quirking her lips upward into a small smirk, "Have you had your coffee yet? Because if you say no, that's your answer."

open starter to: all ! ( @starteroaks ) location: comet see it movie theater.

There was no way in hell that Willa hadn't been to the drive-in in so long; she used to come here religiously in high school, watching almost every feature through two or three times during their run. Sure, some of those visits usually involved some making out in the backseat of some jock or cheerleader's car, but it still counted. She was still there. This time was different though, she was grown now. Random make-outs were off the table — well. To an extent. Gripping her ticket between her fingers, she turns to find a familiar face only a few feet away. She'd crossed paths with Lennon a few times; Above the Clouds was one of her favorite spots in town to grab some high-end basics. Some considered it a waste of money, but Willa knew it was an investment. "Lennon, right?" She confirms, sidling up beside her with a warm expression; one that shutters on approach. There was something — her intuition tugging at her, until... "I can tell something happened, but I'm not gonna pry. Let me take your mind off it for a few hours — join me?"

open to: all

While most people — normal people — spent their weekends relaxing, it tend to be when Willa was at her busiest. She wasn't often needed at the restaurant, but she couldn't help but check-in, find some excuse to be in the back office, until they needed an extra hand in the kitchen or on the floor. Made their patrons' experiences more... personable — right? Well, whatever her justification, it meant her weekdays were far more laidback. It allowed her to frequent the other establishments around town, and really, that's what made Starlight Oaks so special. Everybody supported everybody around here. Once settled on the stool, she opted to slide the bowl of nuts aside — lifting her focus, lighting her features up with a smile — ever the face of customer service. "Negroni, please," she requested, "And if it's not too much, maybe a serve of fries from the kitchen?"