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Post by jennifer alyssa foxworth on Mar 24, 2010 10:59:17 GMT 10
Energetic as Jenny was, she liked her caffeine. Sometimes it was nice to sneak out of the house early on a Saturday morning, head over to Starbucks, buy a cup of tea, and watch the city wake up. Jenny was not naturally a morning person, but she liked getting up early enough that she had trained herself to be one with caffeine and strictly enforced bedtimes. The girl could be quite determined when she wanted to be, and this was one thing she had not given up on ever since the concept first crossed her mind. It was her persistence that enabled her to be up at 7:00 on a wintry Saturday morning, when most of the city was tucked cozily away under blankets and in heated rooms. She threw on a sweater and a coat, slung a purse over her shoulder, and slipped out the back door, leaving a message on the kitchen counter letting her parents know that she would be back--at some point.
By now, they were used to her comings and goings. Jenny had never been the type who was locked in at home all the time, and her parents trusted her enough to give her fairly free rein. So she sat in Starbucks, clutching a steaming cup of black tea, and sipping it slowly as she watched the few other early risers in the city wander by. She hadn't come completely alone--that would have been a bit too weird. No, there was a book open on the table in front of her, and she did read it between sips and people-watching, although she wasn't taking in much. It was a peaceful sort of morning, the sky was clear but cold and because it was winter, the sun, though unobstructed, managed somehow to be relatively dim. Crisp air flowed into and out of the restaurant every time a sleepy customer wandered in for a shot of caffeine or out into the gradually waking world. Jenny drank it all in, enjoying her drink in silence.
She was a conspicuous figure, sitting there by herself. Her flaming red hair and bright blue eyes set her apart physically, but it was also odd that she was wandering about alone. It seemed like she should be with friends on a Saturday morning, and Jenny usually was curled up on one girl's couch or another. She was quite a social person, and in fact rarely seen alone. One might even say she disliked being alone, much preferring the company of a chattering group of friends. Usually, when she decided to start her day early, she would text a friend the night before and convince them to join her. Today, however, she had decided to be out of character. After all, Jenny never wanted to become too set in her ways--that would be a bit too much like growing old. Anyway, she believed in chance encounters and thought that maybe she would be inviting luck by doing something out of the ordinary. Who knew whom she might see? Maybe some long-lost acquaintance or a celebrity.
Jenny had begun to give up hope of seeing anyone exciting by 7:30. Now, she was actually reading her book instead of just pretending (it was Pride and Prejudice, which she was becoming quite fond of though she knew it was cliche), and she was so absorbed in it that she had stopped noticing all the comings and goings of her fellow customers. The barista smiled a little to herself when she saw the girl reading, for Jenny's constant glances around had made her rather nervous. Jenny herself had no idea about what was going on outside and did not even look up when someone ran past the window shouting incoherently. It happened often enough, and anyway she was absorbed in the world of nineteenth century Britain, completely forgetting her initial motives for getting up early.
----------------------- word count ** 649 music ** Plenty of Paper - Eisley outfit ** click me!tag ** OPEN! notes ** um kinda dumb but I needed an intro for her xD
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Post by jeremiah dodger clarke on Mar 26, 2010 12:55:11 GMT 10
As early as it was on a Saturday, it was a bit odd for Jeremiah to be up and about. Now, it wasn't quite odd that he'd found himself in a house that wasn't his own, or that he was treated to a fancy breakfast and a nice shower, fresh robes and his suit from last night already pressed and cleaned. None of those things were odd. The fact that the limo had dropped him off at his usual spot wasn't odd either. However, what was odd, was the fact that he was not receiving a tip for his... above and beyond customer service. A very hefty tip was usually in store after a performance such as his. Although his actual payment had been wired when he was rented for the duration, his activities afterward were to be on his own time, and the fact that this client didn't tip him? Well, that wasn't good.
Carefully, Jeremiah went through his pockets as if he was looking for an inconspicuous envelope, perhaps filled with his money. When none was found, he looked absolutely shell shocked. It was by sheer luck he hadn't yet left the doorway of the limo. Putting on his best, charming smile, he said in a smooth voice, "I'm sure it just slipped your mind, my dear, but you seem to have forgotten to tip me." He explained, shifting his suit jacket farther up on his shoulders. Jeremiah looked at the woman inside the cab with that same confident smile, eyebrows arched expectantly, just waiting for her to begin apologizing profusely and going hectic with the fact that she forgot to tip her company for the night. Her very attractive, very good at what he does company. With how it was last night, he couldn't quite say he was surprised.
However, the answer he seemed to get in response was obviously not one he wanted, as the woman's driver promptly stepped between Jeremiah and the doorway to the dark limo, windows tinted their usual deep shade, and closed the door. "You didn't tip me!" He shouted once more, quickly growing angry, impatient with this... woman! Jeremiah went for the door handle, finding himself pulling at a locked door. When the limo sped away- Nearly taking his toes with it- Jeremiah lept back onto the sidewalk, cursing avidly. "You dirty slut!" He shouted after her car, obviously a different guy than the well-dressed, slicked-up man that had exited the car previously. As he watched the limo hightail it out of there hastily, Jeremiah sneered, promptly turning on his heel. Some on the street were staring, of course, but it was New York. People stared no matter what. People yelling was really just another day.
"You got places to be walking, I'm sure." Snapped Jeremiah to those who dawdled in his presence. He turned on his heel, then, and whipped into the Starbucks he went to normally after his nighttime adventures. The employees mostly knew him by name, and if not name, by drink. He was always the one dressed in classy suits who would also come in at five dressed in street clothes, but somehow manage to look like a star either way. Combing a hand impatiently through his hair, Jeremiah cleared his throat at the counter. "Sumatra extra bold," he muttered, "Largest you got, you know I don't know the names of your fancy pants sizes." He threw a charming, if tired, smile at the barista. "Also, a chai latte with a shot of vanilla, too, if you'd be so kind. Just make that one a medium- Or, uh. A venti." He made a face, butchering the word like so many other Americans did daily.
Anxiously, he drummed on the counter, looking around. "No tip," he grumbled to the woman making his coffee. "What the hell kinda woman who bathes in twenties doesn't have the gonads to tip, huh? I could complain about her, you know. Put her on our black list." The hair that had been smoothly slicked back was now ruined, haphazardly once more hanging on his face, stubble still in place, despite his mostly clean-shaven appearance. As his two coffees arrived to be ready, he smiled in return to the sympathetic one the woman gave him, before paying and setting down on a large chair, putting his feet on the table in front of him before grabbing a paper. Aside from him and the baristas, it was practically empty, the Starbucks. The early morning rush had already happened, after all, and the 9 o'clock rush wouldn't start for another hour.
But... There was also that little girl. What the hell, he was totally going to talk to her. Why the crap not? "Should you be at school?" He asked carelessly, continuing to read the newspaper in his hands, sipping his latte first. The sumatra was the strong, killer stuff. He'd go for the good stuff for now.
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