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[retromajor.livejournal.com]

[ of course, as it turns out, the one thing that she's forgotten to mention to lyssa was the fact that she didn't really have a convenient method of transportation. all she'd asked for the location & time, thinking that would have been enough. of course it hadn't been.

... oh well.

hooking her small messenger bag-slash-purse on her shoulder, she bids her dad goodbye after reassuring him that she'll be back by ten (yes, yes, don't worry, just the mall--). & promptly feels glad that she left two hours before the time she's supposed to meet lyssa 'cause she just missed the bus & the next one won't be arriving for another half-hour. she settles down, pews & waits. long story short (after she subtracts the bus ride & all the weird things her hair is doing in the humidity), she manages to get to the mall in once piece: none of her organs are missing, her dress isn't ripped up, & no one had shoved her head down a toilet. day's pretty good so far (where's wood to knock on when she needed some?). 'cept the fact that she's probably a few minutes late, but--

... oh well.

she'll apologize to lyssa as soon as she can find him. ]

Comments

[fashionmajor.livejournal.com]

[ while his routine is the usual: washes his hands (they're usually really gross after spending hours drawing, after all), preens his hair a bit, says goodbye to his dad, kisses his mom on the cheek, then hops into his car and zoom off. so unlike his friend, he's there super early... if only for the fact that he had planned to bring along his sketchbook with him and people watch while waiting for amanda to show up, of course.

so this is why he's still looking quite comfortable on a bench outside of the mall's entrance on hour two of his alone time, humming to himself as he continues to do quick scribbles of people('s clothes) going to and from the mall. only stops once he sees a familiar poof of hair, smiling widely before raising a hand up to wave at her. ]

Amanda! Over here!

[retromajor.livejournal.com]

[ shuffles on over, a hand worrying at the straps of her bag as she lifts the other in returned greeting. ]

Um. Am I late?

[fashionmajor.livejournal.com]

Not at all! [ gestures at her. ] C'mere and stand right in front of me and then take two steps back, okay?

[retromajor.livejournal.com]

[ does as instructed, a little slouched as always with her hands resting by her sides. ]

Is this the absolutely-no-motion kind or the no-motion kind?

[fashionmajor.livejournal.com]

[ turns his sketchbook to another page, beginning his scribbling. ]

Doesn't matter. [ pauses, concentrating. and then: ] I like your outfit today. Grandma's?

[fashionmajor.livejournal.com]

[ after cuddling catberta for ten minutes straight and gathering some of the things he needed, he's back in his car again, taking his time in driving to his next destination. the only time he really stops is to text his dad to tell him that he'll be out of the mansion for most of the night, saying he'll call him (and mom) when he's heading home.

he parks in the same spot as usual, a few blocks down from the apartment complex he's headed towards. but this time he's juggling not only his sketchbook (and the plastic bag with the items he'd picked up earlier when out with amanda) but also what seems to be two garment bags and his messenger bag slung over a shoulder, hoisting it all up to begin an awkward walk-waddle to the entrance.

it takes him a little longer than he had initially hoped, but he's still a minute early regardless, even if he's glancing at his already full arms with a frown on his face. after half that minute goes by he just shrugs and uses his foot to gently knock at the door three times. ]

[cityblocks.livejournal.com]

[ in the forty minutes that he's received the text, nick's been doing two things: (trying to) sketch & sleep. he's pretty sure that the latter is a side-effect to the codeine that he still has to take (especially when sketching), but he wouldn't put it past himself for the reason behind the dazing to be laziness either. in summary of that short story made long: he's taking a while to get to the door, but he's sure lyssa will live. the easy-going nature of the kid is a quarter of the reason why he bothers with this relationship(? --well, whatever this is), after all.

he's in the middle of a yawn when he finishes unlocking the door, slumping against the doorway as he tries to put his braincells together to greet lyssa properly when suddenly, all of his neural functions come online.

raising an eyebrow, ] Is that for a suit or a project?

[fashionmajor.livejournal.com]

[ smiles widely at him, wiggling his way past and into the apartment. ]

A project. [ deposits the bags onto the couch, sighing in relief. ] Finals come after prom, you know! And you're the perfect height for this, so I thought you could help me, since I help you all the time.

[cityblocks.livejournal.com]

[ closes the door & follows after him, crossing his arms loosely in front of his chest. the eyebrow goes up again. ]

Collecting your dues, huh? And here I was, thinking I was a charity case.

[fashionmajor.livejournal.com]

If that's what turns you on, then we'll just keep it at that. [ makes a gesture at him with a hand. ] Now strip!

sometime later in the evening...

[fashionmajor.livejournal.com]

[ is currently resting on his stomach under the sheets of the bed, chin cradled into the palm of one of his hands. he doesn't even bother getting dressed or move from his spot, comfortable in the little warm crease he pretty much nested into the moment he got the chance to. continues to flip through one of nick's older sketchbooks in silence, one he's seen several times before over the span of time he's spent with the older man. it doesn't deter him from concentrating on the sketches, however, taking his time in mulling over something while in deep thought... then eventually taps the current page he's on. nods to himself. ]

Okay, I've made my decision. This is still the best design you've made. I vote on you touching it up and pitching the idea to a company overseas.

[cityblocks.livejournal.com]

[ doesn't even glance over from where he's propped against the headboard, scratching light lines into his most recent sketchbook balanced against a thigh & knee (both under the covers). he doesn't have to 'cause he knows that line. ]

And like I keep saying. Fund it as a project yourself if you like it so much.

[fashionmajor.livejournal.com]

[ sticks his nose up in the air. ]

I am too busy being popular at school for that. Keep my number for a few more years, if only to ask me to fund the project after I am rich and famous.

[cityblocks.livejournal.com]

[ the corner of his lips tip up a bit, but he still doesn't look away from his sketch. ]

Tedious. Just mail me your business card later.

[fashionmajor.livejournal.com]

[ flips the page to another one that he has bookmarked with a finger, humming a bit. ]

If I don't find someone better in the near future, maybe.

[fashionmajor.livejournal.com]

[ the little interruption that disturbed his play time with nick earlier on wasn't a big deal to him, already setting aside plans to visit the older man the day after tomorrow. so he was cheerful regardless of the situation as he drove home, deciding that it's best to go get cleaned up before doing some more work on his final project.

after scrubbing and soaking he's standing in front of the mirror to inspect the damage done, deciding it's best to just cover it up with make-up. (summer was a pain in these cases, as he couldn't just throw on something to hide the bruises. it was much easier than being questioned or stared at, plus he didn't think it was very classy to go around looking like that.) so he spends a good thirty minutes using what he has on hand to mask the purple and blue on his neck, nodding in satisfaction once his skin looks good as new.

and then? well, instead of doing work he flops on his bed to visit catberta, telling her about his fun with amanda and the nice conversations he had with nick. he's in the middle of giving her treats when his phone vibrates, blinking over at it before pulling himself away from his lady. (no keep feeding me-!! her face said, her nubby paws flailing lazily.) beams down at the message, quickly texting back that he'd love to go get some ice cream with her. rolls off his bed afterward to grab his bag, only turning back to catberta once she meows and demands that he gives her the treats (they were too far away on the bed, dang it).

so he does just that and then gives her a kiss on her fuzzy fat head, saying he'll be back later that night. as usual he's in his car and out in the street in less than a minute, pushing the speed limit enough to arrive at amanda's house in less than ten minutes. trots into the apartment complex and goes up the elevator, arriving at her door to knock once, twice, then three times before stepping back to wait for her to answer. ]

[retromajor.livejournal.com]

[ she doesn't do much in the five minutes the time that it takes lyssa to get here. actually, all she does is take out the things that need to melt overnight, such as that chunk of chicken that they bought on sale. feels a little bad eating it, but-- dad's been extra mopey today, so she could give him a bit of a treat tomorrow for lunch. that'd make him perk right up.

she's sitting on the couch in her living room, kind of lost in her own thoughts when she hears the knock. grabbing her bag, she quickly approaches the door & pulls on her shoes before opening it. ]

Hey. [ sorry about this afternoon kweh. shows off her bag. ] I'm ready to go.

[fashionmajor.livejournal.com]

[ beams down at her when she finally pops up. ]

Great! Are we going to the usual place?

[retromajor.livejournal.com]

[ nods, stepping out of the apartment & closing the door behind her with a small click. ]

Yeah. It hasn't failed us yet.

[fashionmajor.livejournal.com]

[ reaches over to wrap his arm around her shoulders, as per usual. begins their trek towards the elevator. ]

So what was up with your dad? Trouble at work again?

prom

[retromajor.livejournal.com]

[ the dress hadn't taken very long to put on as the process of wiggling into it is the similar to the rest of her dresses. no, what's causing her the most grief is the poof hair. as usual. standing in front of the mirror, she lifts a brush with one hand & a hairspray with the other. one attempt at brushing down the poof & spraying it is enough to tell her that it won't work 'cause the poof apparently said "nope" to the hairspray & bounced right back up.

she tries clipping it next. it works, a little. well, the clips are staying in place anyway, which is definitely a win. as long as it didn't look like she was carrying a birdhouse around on her head, she didn't mind it terribly. giving her reflection a nod of approval, she finishes her look by pulling on her usual hairband to tame the middle-poof.

that done, she wanders away from the bathroom to settle herself on the couch, sinking into it as she waits for lyssa's arrival. she has her usual bag in her lap. logically, she knows that something more shiny is the usual protocol for proms, but she can't bare leaving this bag all by itself at home while she's out having fun (hopefully). it's been her most faithful friend, so it'll go. it's either they both go or she didn't go at all! yes!

... pleased with this line of logic, she flops deeper into the couch without further ceremony. ]

[fashionmajor.livejournal.com]

[ while for him the dressing-up and preening part took several hours, if only because he wanted to make sure everything was absolutely perfect. after all, his outfit was especially chosen for amanda.

it was a custom-tailored 1940s 3-piece pinstripe suit, though he chose not to go with the blazer and stuck with just the vest and pants. (he thought it looked better that way, and probably more unique.) there was the typical white dress shirt and tie fit snug against his body to top it off, deciding at the last minute that the fedora was a little too much for his tastes; hats didn't mix well with his hair, anyway.

he's done with an hour to spare, so he takes his time in showing himself off to his family. (nathania demanded she come over to take pictures and, in a typical manor, her husband and daughter came along as well.) hops into the car when he's had his share of verbal preening (as well as hugs from both his parents), promising that he'll call when he's on his way home.

as usual it only takes him five minutes to get to amanda's place, stepping out of the car with the (tanday cymbidium orchid) wrist corsage in a little plastic box that he had previously picked out for his "date" for the night. straightens his tie before he walks up to the door confidently, raising a hand to knock three times, as per usual. ]

[retromajor.livejournal.com]

[ hops off the couch at the knock, smoothing out her dress a little before opening the door.

... blinks.

oh. they match! ]

We match?

[fashionmajor.livejournal.com]

Yeah! I thought it would be a great idea, since I assumed your dress would be vintage. [ turns a few times to show it off. ] Do you like it? Is it appropriate?

[retromajor.livejournal.com]

[ claps when he turns in genuine appreciation. ]

Yeah, I like it. [ a lot, actually. especially the fact that they match (for once). as for it being appropriate, she's not really sure, since she's fairly certain everyone else is going to be wearing dresses that they bought in stores like a week ago... ]