Dressed For Death

Spoiler:

---

---

The doors of the Golden Goblet Bar and Grill swung open, with the outside breeze letting itself in from behind. Walking in were two young men, one bundled up with a scarf, and another wearing glasses. The sound of the mounted Magnavox television was drowned out by the noise of the establishment's patrons. In Winddrift, every hour was rush hour. The two men joined a woman at the bar stools who was on her second cosmopolitan. By all accounts, none of them had any real reason to be here. As the young man in glasses was about to take a seat, the woman dragged the stool to the side with her foot, nearly causing him to fall.

"Not funny, Shannon," the man scolded, wiping away the peanut shells left behind by the previous patron.

"Aww, I thought you'd be used to it by now," the woman giggled in response. "Remember back in high school when Darren would do that to you all the time? What did he always call you again? Cryin' Brian?"

"We're not in high school anymore, grow up. Also, I never cried, I don't know why that name stuck."

Shannon leaned over and threw a peanut at the man in the scarf to get his attention.

"What's the matter, Noah?" she teased. "Too cool to even say 'hi' to me now that you're a big shot writer? Hmm, 'Mr. Bestseller?' C'mon. Sit."

Noah placed the book he had been carrying on the bar counter and took a seat to the right of Shannon.

"Sorry, I didn't really get much sleep last night. Liam called me and wanted me to VCR last night's 'Seinfeld' for him, and then I had to drive one town over and back to meet my publisher at 2 AM because he operates under a schedule that makes absolutely no sense. Where is Liam, anyway? I thought he'd meet us here by now."

"You could always call him to see if he's still at home," Shannon suggested. "I'd do it but I don't have any quarters for the pay phone."

The door opened again as a man in a leather jacket made his way in.

"Speak of the devil," Shannon grinned, "If it ain't Mr. Top Gun himself." She lowered her voice into a mock gruff tone. "You can be my wingman anytime."

"You never get tired of saying that, huh?" Liam replied.

"She has a penchant for jokes that have expired past their shelf life," Brian added in.

"So... Liam, you look like you woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning. What's up?" Shannon asked.

"Nothing. It's just that the radio's played 'The Power of Love' for the fifth time today and I'm sick of it."

"What, you don't like Céline Dion? 'Cause I'm your ladyyyyyyyy, and you are my maaaaaaaaaaaan."

"Please stop," Liam shook his head.

"Party-poopers, all of you," Shannon said, turning over to the bartender. "I'll just talk to Vivi over here who at least likes my jokes, don't you, Vivi? Also, how's about getting ol' Shay here another cosmo while happy hour is still going, yeah?"

I’m going to kill you Micah.

Vivian growled as she crushed a half-frozen lime on the strainer. Shannon would have to wait, like it or not, since she was the only one minding the bar right now with everyone else on server duty. And she still needed to make that rusty nail. Being the only one minding the bar meant she couldn’t go help the other tables, even though they desperately needed some relief. Lucky Lucy was on fire, though, and Vivi could see the sweat on the girl’s brow from the other side of the restaurant as she flew from table to table.

I hope they tip her, the poor girl, Vivian thought as she filled a glass with water and sent it sliding over to Shannon. “Sorry, give me a minute,” she said shortly, before turning to a new face at the bar. “Hi, welcome to the Gob, what can I get you?”

The guy paused for a moment, then smiled at her. “That depends. Are you on the menu?”

Kill me. Vivi had to resist rolling her eyes. She’d heard that line at least fourteen times last month. She didn’t even know what these men saw in her – she was pretty bland-looking, compared to the goddess trying to get her to make another cosmopolitan. Maybe he liked dark-haired girls. Or maybe it was her glittery black dress with the high-cut skirt and her exposed shoulders. Or maybe he was just desperate.

“I’m only kidding sweetheart,” he said, brushing back his long hair. “I want to try this Goblet I keep hearing about. Open up a tab for me, won’t you?”

“We don’t ‘open tabs’ here, sir, unless the customer is a member, and only regulars are invited to become members. But I can get you your Goblet. Did you want a whole, a half, or a quarter?”

He gave her a cocky grin. “A whole.”

Here we go. Vivi grimaced as she crouched down under the bar and grabbed one of the gold-painted goblets and grunted in the effort of lifting the thing up onto the counter. It wasn’t that heavy, but after a whole day of spinning and mixing drinks, it could stand maybe being a little lighter. The goblet itself was ten inches tall, with only the last three able to hold liquid. Rum, to be more specific. Jason’s personal mix, and the only real reason to come to this bar over the others. She’d tried it once, as part of training on the job. It was one of those drinks that made everything else seem flavorless for the next month, and not because it tasted good.

It did taste good, but that wasn't the point.

Before she mixed the drink, however, she tapped the bar counter in front of the guy. “It’s a twenty for a whole,” she said.

“What? Don’t I get my drink first?”

“Sorry sir, company policy states you have to pay for the Goblet first.”

The guy put his grin back on. “Come on, sweetheart. Why don’t you give me a little taste first? It’s my first time, be gentle won’t you?”

“The mix used in the Goblet is difficult to make. If you’re not going to buy it, I’m not going to make it.”

That seemed to nip at him. “I’m a potential customer you know. I think I deserve better treatment.”

“A quarter only costs five bucks. If you don’t have twenty to put down on a whole, you can get that and I’ll make the drink, and if you decide you want the whole, I’ll only charge you twelve-fifty for the remaining three-quarters.”

“Fine.” He reached into his pocket and slammed a five down onto the counter. “Take it then, and give me the quarter already.” She was pretty sure she heard him say something with the word ‘bitch’ in it under his breath.

“Coming right up.” Vivian took the five and shoved it into the register, then got out her keys and unlocked the safe behind the bar. The bottle she pulled out wasn’t labeled, but she was very careful not to spill any of the contents as she measured out the proper amount for a quarter of the Goblet. She enjoyed making it, mostly because of all the different smells from each drink. Put them all together and all it smelled like was burnt charcoal. It made an excellent floor-cleaner too, if you didn't mind the smell.

Once the drink was done, she poured it into the goblet and handed it over to the man. While he sniffed and squinted at the pungent, golden-brown mix, she went around the bar to check on all the other patrons. For once, everyone seemed content to just sit back and watch the newcomer 'acquire' a new taste, so she refilled a few cups from the tap, collected her tips, and finally made her way back over to her friends.

“Hey, sorry about that,” Vivi said, resting her elbows on the bar for a moment. “Any chance I could get one of you to hold that door open for a couple minutes? I feel like I’ve been standing in a sauna for the past three hours and I’m sweating in places you wouldn’t believe. Anyway, I’ve got like, maybe five minutes before that guy’s throat catches fire and he blames me for it. Anyone besides Shay want a drink? Her tab is still open.”

"I've got it," Brian said, getting up to hold the door.

"Such a gentleman," Shannon remarked, cracking open a peanut. "Vivi, why don't you get the boy a beer on me? What's your choice, Brian?"

"Uhh... a Budweiser's fine," he responded.

"If you're buying rounds, how about getting me a Samuel Adams?" Liam asked.

"Taking advantage of my generosity, McPherson? You wouldn't leave a poor girl like me broke and wanting, would you? But sure, you've caught me in a good mood. What about you, Noah? Care to wet your whistle?"

Noah was tapping the eraser of his pencil against an empty page of his book. Without looking up, he said, "Just an iced tea."

"Still haven't popped your alcohol cherry yet?" Shannon crassly asked. "C'mon, why don't we make that iced tea a Long Island variant?"

"Just a regular iced tea. Lots of sugar. Little bit of lemon."

Shannon rolled her eyes and turned back towards Vivian, her fingers thrumming on the counter. "Well, you heard the boys. A Budweiser for your knight in shining armor, a Sam Adams for the Scot, and a virgin iced tea for 'he-who-is-without-intemperance.' Just hope that doesn't break the bank."

After he was done holding the door, Brian took his spot back next to Liam and brought on a new conversation. "So my dad was reading the paper this morning," he started.

"As dads tend to do," Liam interjected.

"He was reading the paper," Brian went on. "And apparently, there was another mass shootout, this time on Alto Street. All victims were associated with gangs and were found dead. Witnesses reported an armed man leaving the scene."

"Another one, huh? That makes the fourth one this month," Liam said. "I swear this city's going to the dogs more and more every day. But man... one guy did all that? I can only imagine it was like some John Woo shit going down over there."

Shannon shrugged. "Well if they were all gang members, then... who really cares, right? If you live a life of crime then obviously you'll get what's coming to you sooner or later. I'd even go as far as to say that this town's getting cleaned up."

"I think you're missing the bigger picture here," Noah spoke up. "These killings have been going on, targeting specific people - so it's no coincidence that they are happening so close together. The question is who are these killers and why have they taken it upon themselves to attack thugs and criminals? They haven't made a clear message or made themselves known. So they could be like you said, 'cleaning up this town,' but for all we know they could be after something else entirely."

"You're probably reading too much into it," Shannon commented dismissively. "Enough of all this killer talk, yeah? I come to bars so that I can drink to forget the ugliness of the world, not be reminded of it."

Vivi sighed in relief as the crispy late-winter air blew in through the bar. As lightly dressed as she was, a cold like this would have chilled her to the bone, but after being hot and sweaty the chill was like a breath of fresh air. She'd have to remember to thank Brian later somehow. She set to work on getting their drinks – Liam and Brian were easy enough, since their drinks were on tap at all times. She knew how much sugar Noah liked in his tea, and she made sure to stir it well with the lemon so there weren't any grains left over. And then she started the cosmopolitan for Shay.

“I’ve heard about those attacks plenty,” Vivi said when the topic was brought up. “It’s all anyone talked about today. Honestly it creeps me out, I just don’t feel safe walking home at night anymore, what with the gangs and the killings.” She shivered a little. The bar was pretty much Vivi’s only method of getting information about the outside world. She didn’t have the patience for reading papers, and the little radio on her nightstand was always tuned to the classical station. So she was glad for her job to keep her in the know-how, when her friends infrequently failed. “You really think these were premeditated?”

Before she could get her answer, a sound coming from the other end of the bar made her turn her head. For better or for worse, the guy from before – she’d never caught his name and didn’t intend to – finally managed to figure out how to drink from the Goblet. But that meant there was a problem. He was drinking from the Goblet.

He coughed first, then gasped and coughed again, spilling a good portion of his drink on the floor. Pretty standard reaction for a first-time Gob-drinker. The guy cursed loudly and pushed himself away from the counter to throw up. Also a pretty standard reaction. Vivi remembered her own first time fondly, though she hadn’t thrown up after it.

“What the hell did you put in that thing?” he demanded, jabbing an accusatory finger at her. Vivian sighed and finished delivering Shay’s drink.

“Now for the fun part,” she said as she turned around to address the man. “Is there something wrong with your drink, sir?”

“Only with how vile it is, what did you even put in it?”

That’s a question you should have asked before buying it. “It’s a combination of rum and brandy with a high alcoholic concentration. I’m sorry to hear you didn’t like it. Personally, it’s one of my favorite drinks, but I understand it isn’t for everyone. Can I get you something softer to drink?”

“So you can extort more money out of me?” he scoffed at her. “You wish.”

“Actually, since you went out of your way to try it, we’re willing to offer a drink. Think of it as a thank you for at least giving it a shot. You can have a glass of anything that’s on tap, and we won’t charge you for it.”

“I’m not drinking any more of these concoctions of yours,” he said with a snap. “And I want my money back. Immediately, or else.”

Or else what? Vivi resisted the urge to say it, and instead fought to keep her smile going. “Sorry sir, we don’t give refunds on the Goblet.”

“Pah!” He threw up his arms, as if in disgust. “Fine, keep my money. It’ll be the last you ever see of it. I’m never coming back here again.”

Okay, bye. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out. Vivi signaled one of her workers as the man stormed out of the bar, pointing them towards the ‘spill’ he made. The door swung open again, and he was gone without making much more of a scene, and someone else came in while the door was still open. She was bundled up from head to toe like an eskimo, and she penguin-walked into the bar and stood still for a few seconds after the door closed. Even looking like that, Vivi recognized Liz right away.

Liz caught sight of the group and hurried over to push herself in between Shannon and Noah, then set a duffle bag on the counter in front of her without saying so much as a word. Vivian went through the rounds at the bar again before returning to the group.

“Thanks Liz,” Vivi said, taking the bag and pulling it under the bar. “You okay?”

Elizabeth Morgan finally pulled back her hood and lowered the scarf under her chin. She was almost as tall as Liam, which was abnormal for a girl these days, so she had to lean over pretty far just to put her elbows on the bar. “It’s cold as tits out there right now. I'm referencing my tits, for the record. No I’m not okay. I hate winter. So glad it’s almost over. I’d much rather sneeze my fucking head off in spring than deal with all this cold.”

“Want something warm to drink?”

“No, I want something that’ll freeze my insides – yes I want something warm. Vodka! That’ll warm me up nice and quick. Chop chop, get busy girl. And I don’t wanna see that bottom shelf crap, hear me? I wanna get shitfaced on quality booze tonight.”

“You know the rule, Liz. Top shelf, dollar first.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Liz threw a wad of cash onto the counter, and Vivi slid her a shot. Liz downed it an instant later, and sighed in bliss. “So,” she said, eyeing Vivian. “I heard you shot down the guy I introduced you to last night.”

“Oh, um…sorry?”

Liz sighed. “Vivi, how do you ever intend to find a good guy to marry if you keep rejecting everyone I introduce you to?”

“Because maybe I don’t want to be like my sister?” Vivian frowned at her friend. “I’m exhausted as it is, Liz, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine, whatever. I’ll leave you alone for a couple days, but at least let the next guy take you to dinner or something. Free food, Vivi. Free. Food. Oh well. What about you Shay? Interested in meeting someone new?”

The circle watched the disgruntled patron storm out and exchanged laughs with each other. Brian made a glib remark about "maybe starting him off with an apple martini next time" if there were ever another next time, and Noah made a small chuckle as he wrote down Brian's suggestion in his book. Brian wasn't exactly in the right to talk, though. His first time trying out the Goblet was less than triumphant, and he almost truly earned his high school nickname trying to finish it. When they got their drinks, the friends clinked their glasses together before downing them with Shannon making a small toast.

"To good friends, good times, and that pain-in-the-ass hangover I've got coming tomorrow."

Reverting back to the previous topic, Liam tried to assuage Vivian's fears.

"Unless you're a gang member yourself, I'd say you're safe. The gangs themselves are probably too busy worrying about the killers to actually start trouble with random people. 'Course if you're still worried I could always give you a ride home after work. The radio station's on the way, so it wouldn't be too much trouble."

"With that old bucket of bolts you call a Mustang?" Shannon said with a raised brow. "That thing sounds like it's dying every time you start it up. I think I'd take my chances walking."

"For your information, it passed last month's vehicle inspection," Liam retorted. "My car's never let me down."

Liz then made her appearance and suddenly the room felt quieter by comparison. Shannon laughed at the offer and continued to sip her drink.

"As much as I love being taken out to fancy lobster dinners, I'm kinda burnt out on dealing with the dating scene right now. At this rate, I'd say it'd take a pretty special man to sweep me off my feet." Shannon paused for a moment. "Where are you even finding these guys anyway?"

"Hopefully not from Brenhaven out in the sticks," Liam said. "Buncha freaks out there. They love their guns as much as they love their meth. You ever see a town whose phone book has five hundred pages and only six last names? Fuckin' Christ."

Noah began to scribble harder.

Liz laughed with the others at Liam’s joke, and downed her third shot of vodka right after and finally took off her scarf. Starting to warm up, apparently. “For your information, where I find my infinite supply of good-looking men is classified information,” Liz said jokingly. “But I do just so happen to work at an airport, where lots and lots of people are coming in and out almost every day. The guys I usually end up talking to are the ones who aren’t intimidated by a woman being taller than them. Usually a good indicator.”

“Then they meet me,” Vivi said. “And are disappointed.”

Liz scowled at her. “Oh shut up, that’s not true and you know it. I keep a picture of you on me for when I find a decent guy. They know what they’re getting into. The last guy was pretty excited about it. What was his name again? I can’t remember. Do you?”

“Yes,” Vivian said firmly, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. “His name was Thomas, and the first thing he said to me was to ask how much it cost for me to do anal and if he needed to use a condom. I slapped him and ran away.”

Liz shrugged. “Yeah, well, some red flags you just can’t spot right away. It was a pretty risky move on his part. I liked his beard. More vodka!” Liz tapped her empty shot glass on the counter and snapped her fingers at Vivi. “Come on girl, its hard work getting drunk enough to forget what Armenian women look like.”

Vivi filled up a glass with water and put it down in front of Liz, then stuck her chin up and proceeded to ignore her. Liz would have to learn the hard way that Vivi didn’t want anything to do with that topic tonight. Though mostly she was just worried about Liz getting too drunk and stripping down to her underwear and proceeding to pass out in the snow. Vivi and Shannon had to carry her back home that night.

Instead Vivi looked up at Liam and gave him a hopeful smile. “It’s really sweet of you to offer, Liam. Are you sure it won’t be a bother? I’d feel much safer with you, rusty car or not. You don’t have to, I just don’t like being alone.”

“Yet she refuses to bunk with me,” Liz complained. “Miss Self-Sufficient doesn’t know how to ask for help. Just let Liam take you this time, he already said it wasn’t a bother. You can go get dinner together while you’re at it.”

Vivi blushed and shot a glare at Liz. Then spotted an excuse to get away from the bar for a minute. “Micah,” she growled. “Hold on. I need to go kill him real quick. MICAH!” She made her voice crack like a whip and marched over to where the six-foot bartender relief was trying to talk up the busy hostess. He didn’t see the five-foot-three woman in heels storm up to him until it was too late, and she had a fistful of his jacket and somehow had pulled him down to her height.

“Miss V!” Micah exclaimed, his hands shooting up in surrender. “Uh, look, I can explain-”

“Do you understand what today is?” Vivian asked him. “Tell me Micah. What day is today?”

“Uh…Thursday?”

“It’s Thursday in March, and it is thirty fucking degrees outside right now. When it’s thirty fucking degrees outside, people do not want to cook for themselves, they do not want to clean up for themselves, and they do not want to eat or drink by themselves. So, Micah. Tell me what they do like to do on cold days like today, Thursday, the third of March.”

Micah was sweating, despite only just having walked into the warm restaurant and not having even a hint of alcohol smell on him. Vivi did get a whiff of smoke off his jacket, and scowled even more. She hated that smell.

“Um, I guess they go out to eat?” Micah finally said.

“Go. Get. Dressed. Now.” She finally released him, and Micah hurried towards the back to do as he was told. “And if you show up late again, I don’t give a damn what Jason thinks, I’ll fire you on the fucking spot!” Vivi shouted after him. She glanced at the hostess. “You’re doing great work today, Marjory, Momma’s very proud of you.”

Marjory gave her a nervous smile. “Thanks Miss V.”

Back at the circle, Liz leaned into Shannon. “She talks about being scared of walking out on the street alone, then goes and does that to a guy twice her size. I’d be scared for the guy tryin’ to mug her instead. Kinda makes me real happy to know that when she get angry with me she just ignores me for a little while, you know?”

Vivi returned to the group a few seconds after that and stepped back into the bar, which was raised about three inches so she didn’t seem so small. “I need a drink,” she muttered before putting her smile back on and doing the rounds at the bar again. Five minutes later, Micah came out of the back in his uniform and hurried to the bar. Vivian set him to work immediately, instructing him on the goings-on for the night before grabbing the duffle bag Liz had brought her and stepping out of the bar again. It was her turn to change clothes.

Vivian came back out two inches shorter in worn sneakers, sweatpants, and a light brown jacket on a black tee. A stark contrast to the black dress and high heels before. She also had a little styrofoam box under her arm, which she put down on the bar counter and hopped up on the chair next to Liam.

“Begging from the kitchens again?” Liz joked.

“I’m still mad at you,” Vivi reminded her. “But yes. I get to have hot food for dinner tonight. Chicken Alfredo, by the way. Best in the whole city, but don’t tell Paul I said that. He’d try to win my heart with food, and I don’t think I’d be able to keep myself from marrying him.” She sighed. “Shame he’s almost fifty.” She popped her box, letting the heavenly aroma waft out, and speared a chunk of chicken with a plastic fork. “Could use a drink, though. Hey Shay, mind if I have a little sip of that? I haven’t decided what I want to buy with the tips Micah would have earned if he was on time. Oh, and Liz, your penance is rubbing my aching feet. Chop chop, get busy girl.”

Liz just rolled her eyes and sent her glass of untouched water down to Vivi, who snatched it up and downed the whole thing of it. She frowned afterwards. “Refreshing, but ultimately full of disappointment. The person who made this drink must have been extra irritated. And probably had aching feet.” She kicked off her sneakers and wiggled a sockless foot towards Liz and raised her eyebrow. When Liz just rolled her eyes again, Vivi shrugged and let her foot fall back down. She couldn’t reach her sneakers since the stool was too high, so this was an opportunity to let them dry out and cool off while she ate.

"Oh, stop," Shannon laughed when Liz brought up Vivian tearing into her employee. "Our darling little Vivi is nothing more than a delicate and demure creature. She would never be the type to scream a man into submission. Such a thing wouldn't be ladylike, you know?" The group watched as Vivian unwinded before them and engaged into "Off-the-clock Vivian," to which Shannon would comment about with her nature documentary voice. "And here we see the very rare and elusive Vivi in her natural habitat. She asserts her role as the alpha by ordering the Liz to rub her feet, signifying dominance. Her diet consists of already killed chicken, suggesting that her species are scavengers."

"You having fun there?" Brian asked.

"Quite so," Shannon replied. "I mean what else is there to for people our age other than getting together at bars and making jabs at each other?"

Brian shrugged. "Well, Liam and I were going to see 'The Ref' next week and wanted to know if you guys wanted to join."

Shannon shook her head, finishing her cosmopolitan. "If how cold it is out there serves as any indication of how the weather is going to be next week, I might just stay home and bundle up. I didn't actually catch the news this morning, does anyone know the forecast?"

"It's supposed to be six degrees tomorrow," Noah spoke up.

"Six degrees?!"

"...Celsius."

"Uhh... Noah? Do I need to remind you that the rest of us here use freedom units?"

"Sorry. It's going to be about 43 degrees Fahrenheit."

Liam chugged the rest of his glass and stood up, putting on his jacket and making his way to the door. "Speaking of the temperature, I should probably warm up the engine. Vivi, if you still need a ride, I'll be outside. Just give the car a few minutes. Oh, and Noah? You mind recording tonight's Letterman for me?"

"Sure. When you come over next time why not just take my VCR? I don't even use it for myself anyway." Noah set aside his book and handed Liam the video cassette for Seinfeld.

Resting her chin on her hands, Shannon turned over to Vivian. "Y'know what they say about drinking and driving, Vivi. God knows we get bombarded by those D.A.R.E. ads just about everywhere they can get to us. You sure you trust Liam to get you home safely?"

"He's only had one drink for crying out loud," Brian defended him. "Liam's got a pretty high tolerance anyway. He could easily outdrink you any day of the week and still be sober enough to drive."

"Now that sounds like a challenge," Shannon smirked. "You wanna put your money where your mouth is?"

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose. "How about we don't endanger our friend's life by testing his alcohol limits and putting him behind the wheel?"

"What do you think, Vivi? After all, you're the one he's driving home. Think Liam can put away more beers than me? I'll remind you that I had all of high school to practice."

"...That probably explains where those brain cells went."

"Hey!"

Vivian smirked. “The Vivi is also very food aggressive, so if you get too close while she is eating, beware the sharp and pointy teeth, as you may become her next meal.” She speared another chicken chunk. “Scavenger. Pfft. I’d say you don’t know the half of it, but, well, you do, so there’s that. Haven’t tried eating people yet. Takes a lot to make a people, so probably an inefficient food source.” She was too hungry to interrupt her meal much more than that, so she shoveled more food into her mouth.

“Next week?” Liz hummed and hawed. “I dunno, Brian. I’m supposed to be working late shifts next week. Copiloting international for the first time. Been looking forward to it all month.”

Vivi nearly choked. “What? Liz, you’re going international? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t I?” Liz glanced around and grimaced. “Oh. Guess I didn’t. Uh…well, it’s really just to our neighbors up north, so it isn’t that big of a deal.”

“Not a big deal my ass, Liz that’s wonderful news! You’ll finally be so far away I can tell everyone all your embarrassing secrets without you to stop me, like how you have matching pink polka dot bras and panties.”

Liz turned several shades of red at that. “I do not!”

“She totally does. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Except for everything that’s wrong with that.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be stuffing your cheeks, chipmunk?”

Vivi shoved pasta into her mouth to bloat her cheeks and squeaked back at her. Liz pressed her lips together, but she couldn’t keep herself bottled up and broke into a fit of laughter. Vivian reveled in her apparent victory and shoveled her food faster when Liam went to go start up his car. She finished in record time and hopped off her bar stool to throw her trash away.

“Actually,” Vivi said when she returned, “I’m with Brian on this one. Liam’s a big guy, experienced, and one Sam Adams isn’t really a whole lot of alcohol. Though I don’t know if he can outdrink you.” She paused to hug Shannon, as she usually did before leaving. “If push comes to shove, I’ll make him pull over for a few minutes. But I trust him. I trust all of you.” She smiled as she moved on to Brian, giving him a light peck on the cheek as she went to hug him. She did the same for Noah, though paused halfway from letting go of him. “I loved your book by the way. It was so delicious, I just couldn’t keep myself from devouring the whole thing in one sitting.”

“She’s joking,” Liz said. “She didn’t eat it.”

“I didn’t?” Vivi blinked, puzzled for a moment. “Huh. Then what’s this papery taste in my mouth?”

“Maybe you ate the funnies section in the newspaper.”

“Pfft, no, that’s silly. Who’d eat a newspaper?”

“It’d explain your terrible jokes.”

Vivian gasped and pressed her hand to her chest. “Elizabeth Morgan, I am shocked and appalled you would say such a cruel thing to me! That’s the final straw, missy, no hug or kiss for you.” She then turned her nose up and spun around on the spot, only to keep spinning until she was facing Shannon again. “Shay, I need a new best friend. Mind if I come over and snuggle with you this weekend? Joking aside, I could use the company. Let me know, and I guess I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Vivian smiled and waved at her friends, then grabbed the duffle bag Liz had brought her – now stuffed with her old clothes and heels – and hurried to the bitter, biting wind. No snow, at least, and after a whole winter of snow she was actually glad for it. It was late winter, so it was still light out, and she spotted Liam’s old car almost right away and hurried towards it, pressing the bag against her chest for protection from the wind. She jumped in, at his behest, and shivered in the seat.

“Heavens, it’s cold out there,” Vivi complained. “At least next week it’ll be somewhat warmer. Hopefully without the wind, yeah? Anyway, thanks for the ride, Liam. How do you want your payment? I’d knit something for you as a present, but I wouldn’t get it done before it gets too warm to wear one. Oh, if you have any ripped clothes I could mend them for you. I don’t mean to brag, but I’m a pro at stitching clothes.” Vivian pinched her shirt and lifted it up, as if to show him. “I bet you can’t even tell this was patched, eh? But if you don’t have any wounded clothing, I could swing by and cook you something. I make a mean chicken potpie when I have the stuff to make it. Totally not bragging, by the way. These are true facts. Let me know, yeah? I really do want to thank you properly, you won’t believe how relieved I am I don’t have to walk home alone.”

Before Vivian left to meet Liam at his car, Noah and Shannon would give their respective retorts.

"Well, I suppose there's more than one way to digest literature," Noah chuckled.

"You mean I'm not already your best friend?" Shannon jested. "Oh but sure, you can come over anytime. Just know that our pool has frozen over in case you had any crazy ideas to go swimming in this cold. Feel free to bring ice skates, though. Also, don't let my dad hit on you."

When Vivian would step outside, she'd catch sight of Liam standing by his car where he was being hounded by a local bookie.

"Say there, you look like a gambling man," the bookie called to him. "Sharp-looking guy like you? How'd you like to bet a few dollars on some races? Ain't nothing like the sweet rush of letting it all ride on the tracks, friend."

"No thanks," Liam brushed him off.

"Oh come on, you don't know what you're missin', pal. Why not put down a couple bucks, just to give it a shot, huh? I'll even give you a li'l insider tip. Ol' Galador's been on a hot streak for the last five races - even pays out 5 to 2. You can't get better odds than that! Whaddya say, buddy?"

"I say you're in the way of my car. I need you to move."

The bookie glanced over at Vivian approaching and turned back to Liam, hoping he'd have a new edge to use in his persuasion.

"That your girl, man? You definitely can't be drivin' a girl in a shoddy ol' car like that! You gotta make it big! You seem like a lucky fella, why not win big, buy a new car, and take your girl somewhere nice, eh?"

"I said beat it," Liam snapped, his patience wearing thin.

"Alright, alright. Was just tryin' to offer you the chance of a lifetime is all, sheesh. At least take my card, in case ya change your mind."

Before scampering off, the bookie would slip his card in Liam's pocket and tip his flat cap. Liam sighed and got into the driver's seat after Vivian hopped in the passenger side, and the two would be on their way. A cassette was already popped in the radio, playing the song "License to Kill" as the car drove off.

Spoiler:

"I don't think any of my clothes need stitching," Liam assured Vivian. "Except maybe the knee-hole in my jeans, but that seems to be the fashion nowadays. People say it adds character. Really though, don't worry about paying me back. Like I said, your place just happens to be between the bar and the radio station, so it's not any trouble at all. If you want to stop by though and prove you really do make a good chicken potpie, by all means. You know I won't turn down free food. It seems like you were really shaken up by the news that's been going on, by the looks of it. You ever consider... you know... keeping a piece on you? My uncle runs a firing range off Walther Street, and I'm sure he'd be willing to give you a discount. Getting some practice in tends to help relieve stress, at least for me." When they came to a stoplight, Liam faced Vivian for a bit. "I know this kinda thing isn't something we like talking about, but at least give it some thought. That's all I really wanted to say about that. Moving on from morbid topics though... how's your photography? Take any good candid shots lately?"

The car began to pull up to Vivian's driveway.

Vivian laid back in her seat and relaxed to the sound of the music playing. Even if she had heard this one a dozen times already. She even started humming along to it, before Liam started talking. He wasn't so bad to listen to either. A nice, calming voice. Not too deep, but not too nasally like Brian's either. Husky would be a word to describe it if it didn't make her cheeks go red.

“Well, I'd be more than happy to prove my culinary skills to you,” Vivian said. “But I'd have to get the ingredients for it. Next time they go on sale I'll come by and use your oven. Probably loads better than the hunk of junk in my apartment. Chicken tends to go on sale often, so it shouldn't take long to get what I need.”

When Liam started talking about guns, and the shooting range, Vivian fell quiet. He was right, of course. If she was concerned about her own well-being, having a license and a firearm for her own protection would be the best option. But the idea of using a gun made her feel nauseas, and no amount of potpie or alfredo sauce could make that feeling go away. Maybe just as a deterrent she could have one. As if she could afford ammunition in the first place. Or a gun.

“Something to think about,” Vivian murmured. She let herself smile again when he brought up her photography work. A nice little hobby she could occupy the dead hours of her life with. “Actually,” she said. “The photo I took of all of us together came out perfectly. I was worried about glare, but when I got it printed out it looked really good. I had to shell out a bit to get it framed, but I think it was worth it. I can't be stingy with money all the time, yeah? I want to let myself enjoy things... Maybe next time you're around I can show you more of my pictures. Oh! We can sit down while the potpie is cooking and rifle through them together. That sounds like a magical way to spend my evening. We could invite the others...” Vivi paused mid-sentence and bit her lip. “Well...maybe not. Just the two of us would be fine. I'd like to take half the potpie home with me, if possible. That's a lot of dinners.”

Vivian blushed as she turned her head away for a moment, and watched as Liam slid his car into the parking lot near her apartment. Near enough, anyway. It wasn't too bad of a place, but it could use a patching here or there.

“Thank you for the ride, Liam,” Vivi said. She paused a moment before unbuckling herself. “I really do appreciate it. And I want to do something for you in return. I'm off next Tuesday, if you want to, um, get together for that potpie. I should be able to find something on sale at the market by then. Oh, and before I forget, I want my hug.” She reached over in the car and gave him an awkward, half-hug half-shoulder touch. She did manage to peck his cheek, though. All her friends knew to expect the hug and kiss from her, or at least she hoped they did. She'd been doing it for the past five years with them, so there was no reason to think it strange.

After saying her last goodbyes, Vivian crawled out of the car and shouldered the duffle bag. She'd need to get the thing back to Liz at some point, though with how often she used it maybe she could convince Liz to just let her have it as an early birthday present. Vivi glanced back to check on Liam, to see if he was still there before unlocking her door and stepping inside her apartment. She flicked her hand up the wall, and the lights slowly flickered on in her hallway.

Maybe part of her financial struggles had to do with getting a halfway decent apartment, instead of a run-down shack apartment, like the one she used to live in with her siblings. But even a little quality living made a huge difference on her mood. She didn't feel trapped or nervous, just poor. She set her bag down on the moth-eaten sofa and removed her dress and heels and stockings from it, and suddenly regretted eating the whole dinner earlier. She could have saved half of it for tomorrow's dinner and heated it up in the oven.

After hanging up her dress and jacket, Vivian went to her small bedroom and flopped down onto the mattress. It was quiet in the complex for once, so she didn't bother reaching for the little radio next to her bed. But her mind was buzzing, and sleep wouldn't come.

“I don't want to be like my sister,”she murmured, repeating the words she'd spoken to Liz earlier that night. “But I can't help wanting it. Stupid girl hormones. Stupid Mary and her dumb, adorable baby. Stupid Liam.” She pushed her face into her pillows and groaned. “What was I even thinking? Oh, I'll come over and cook something for you as thanks, Liam, then maybe you'll see me as more than just a friend! Stupid girl. Why can't you just stop crushing on your friends?”

If only it were that easy. She couldn't afford gifts to win favors and she couldn't fix herself so she'd stop pining. Well, there was no point in canceling dinner with Liam. That potpie would last her three whole dinners if she could take some of it home. And there was always a chance of something happening, right? Even if she knew nothing would happen, there was at least a chance.

Vivian shut her eyes and slid her hand down under the covers, and the other to her lips. She could have missed and kissed Liam on the lips instead. She'd blush and stutter her apologies, but he'd grab her and pull her back in for a kiss. A real kiss. One to take her breath away and make her chest tighten and ache with the sort of longing she felt now, only she could feel his fingers slide down between her legs instead of her own. His would feel better, in her imagination.

“Mmm,” Vivi mumbled as she turned onto her back and pulled her sweatpants down a little. Liam would be on top, and she'd guide his hand to her sensitive spots while he took off her clothes piece by piece, until she was fully naked, fully at his mercy. He'd touch he, caress her, maybe even lick her. She'd touch his chest and feel the comforting strength behind his muscles. Then they...then...

Then what? She'd give him her first time? Vivi stopped and opened her eyes, all sense of pleasure turned to ash on her tongue. She didn't need to kid herself. None of that would ever actually happen, and even if it did, it wasn't like Liam loved her. She wasn't even sure what she thought of him, let alone him of her, but using him to pleasure herself probably wasn't a good indicator. He probably used Shay or Liz, not her. She was too little, too plain. Too poor. Shay was a goddess, and Liz wasn't too far from gorgeous herself, and both of them would be able to kiss him standing up. Vivi wasn't even sure what would happen if Liam got her pregnant. Would he stay with her and help her? Marry her? Or would he leave her to fend for herself? She couldn't afford that kind of risk.

Vivi rolled over and buried her face in her pillow again. Maybe one day she'd meet a guy like Brendan. Mary got lucky with a blind date, so why couldn't she get lucky too? She'd have to apologize to Liz tomorrow, and get her to hook her up again. Hopefully with someone who didn't think she was a sex worker.

Bleh.

Liam got out of the car after Vivian did, watching to make sure she'd be able to get inside in case she had forgotten her keys. He leaned against his car, with his hands in his pockets - this had become a signature pose for him. "Tuesday it is, then," he said, preparing to leave. Should Vivian by chance had glanced through her window at the apartment's driveway, she would have seen a woman approach Liam before he left. The two exchanged words for a while, and for some reason... Liam would open his passenger door for her, and the two would drive off. Unfortunately, their conversation would be unintelligible from where Vivian was, and the sound of a piano that began to play outside wasn't exactly helping either.

Spoiler:

Across from the apartment's courtyard was a public amphitheater, which had acoustics that could carry sound to the point where every resident of the complex was going to hear it whether they liked it or not. The seats of the amphitheater were filled for an event of sorts. Guests dressed in their formal suits gathered from all around to watch a group of musicians play. At the center with the piano was an elderly man dressed in white. With how lively his fingers danced along the keys, hardly anyone would believe the man was nearing his autumn years. As the performance went on, many of the apartment residents would come out of their homes to spectate out of intrigue. One of those people happened to be Preston who lived down the hall.

He took a spot in front of the rails, dressed in a baseball cap and cargo shorts with a camera in hand. Preston fastened the zoom lens onto his camera and began snapping shots of the performance.

So much for the complex being quiet. Vivian rolled out of her bed and kicked some stray clothes off the floor and into her tall hamper until she caught a pair of jeans and pulled them on. If she was going to have her pre-bedtime imaginations interrupted, she might as well go watch the musicians play. Maybe she could get a decent picture of them this time.

Vivian splashed her face, rubbing all the excess makeup off and tugged her hair loose so the long strands fell loose onto her back. It needed to be cut again, before it got below her hip. Again. Vivian scowled at her hair and tugged a brush through a couple knots before giving up on it and just tucking the whole of it into her shirt. She wasn’t about to turn her hair into silk just to watch a couple musicians play across the courtyard.

Eventually she managed to convince herself everything was fine and grabbed her camera from its case under her bed. After a bit of searching she managed to find her good lenses and twisted them on, then she headed outside with the strap around her neck and her keys in her pocket. The sound from the piano became clearer as she stepped outside, and for the first few seconds she basked in the sound, letting it wash over her like a warm shower.

Despite the interruption it made, these little concerts were one of her favorite things about living here. Even if she never bothered to find out when they happened – the surprise made it all the more exciting. But her mood quickly soured when she noticed someone else was already taking pictures. Even worse, it was Preston. Of course it was Preston. He was wearing shorts which, in this weather, made him look like an idiot. But even if his shorts didn’t, his hair did – half of it was draped over the side of his face in front of his eye. The hairstyle alone looked stupid and Vivian hated how it seemed to be the growing trend the last few years to have that kind of style on, or something similar to it.

As if she could complain with her hip-length hair. Vivian moved away from Preston, hoping he didn’t see her, and took up a position along the rail where she would have a decent shot. She angled her camera slightly, pointing it at the elderly man on the piano. She watched him through her digital screen for a moment, smiling to herself, before taking the first picture of the night. There was a slight blur in the picture from his hands flying over the keys, but that was fine. She kind of liked the blur.

He looked good for his age, and plenty dexterous, if his dancing fingers were any indication. What was his life like, Vivian wondered as she brought her camera back up at a different angle. Did he have a loving wife waiting for him at home, or was she in the audience? Was he rich? Poor? Did he spend his hours in peaceful quiet, or did he still go on adventures through the city or country? Vivian couldn’t answer any of these questions just by taking pictures, but she liked to imagine what it was like living in his shoes.

What would she be like, at his age? Would she still take walks around the park, finding things to take pictures of? Would she be married? Have children? Grandchildren? What would her husband look like? Vivian set her camera down and took a deep breath. If she only knew what was in store for her later in life, maybe she could relax a little, and stop worrying about the little things. If her survival was a guaranteed thing, maybe she wouldn’t be so nervous about asking her crush out on a date.

Maybe Liz could convince Liam to hook up with her…no, no that wouldn’t be right. This was something Vivian had to do herself. With a small nod to herself, she raised her camera one more time to capture the old man and his dancing fingers.

Preston lowered his camera away when a moving figure obstructed his view. With an obliviously cheery grin, he waved over at Vivian and called to her, making sure he wouldn't go unnoticed.

"Hey! Hey, Vivian!"

The young man never did much wrong in his life. Never did much to offend, nor to impose, and yet there were many that found themselves having an irrational aversion to him. Perhaps he just had an inexplicably punchable face. He moved closer and closer, until he stopped right next to Vivian.

"Pretty cool concert, huh? Looks like we both had the same idea," Preston said. "My friend down at the Winddrift Daily Herald asked me to get him some shots of all these big name events. It's a pretty sweet gig, you ever think about selling photos?" He raised his camera again, taking several more shots. If there were at least one thing he was good at, carrying a conversation with himself was probably applicable on his list of talents - a feat he would demonstrate to Vivian. "I was actually waiting for them to set up earlier. The old guy down there - he's a pretty big name across the country. Arthur Harvey Shaw. They say he's been playing for over seventy years. He's pretty good, right? I tried to get a spot closer down there earlier, but they had a dress code. A real shame, I wanted a shrimp cocktail, ha ha. Y'know the Winddrift Spring Festival is comin' up around the corner. You plannin' on going? Last year, they had a booth where they sold gator meat on a stick and Irish stew. I'm getting hungry just thinking about it. Hey, you wanna grab a bite to eat?"

Vivian nearly lost her shot. Preston had followed her. Of course he followed her, he took every spare moment available to seek her out if she was nearby. Preston was like one of those tiny dogs that either bark at you relentlessly or follow you everywhere demanding food. She didn't like tiny dogs in the first place. Either way, she knew he wasn't going to leave until she explicitly told him to, and she wasn't rude enough to come out and say it immediately. So she ignored him for a moment to focus on the old man. He didn't look over seventy. She smiled as she snapped her picture, catching him flourishing his hands above the piano, swaying to the music.

"As exciting at it sounds, I'm not interested in trying out alligator meat," Vivian said, not looking away from her camera. "It sounds terrible, actually. I was planning on being away during that time anyway, and I've already eaten today, so no thanks." She put her camera back in its case and glanced at Preston. She tried not to turn up her nose at him and walked back to her apartment. She closed her door behind her and locked it, then breathed out a quick sigh and marched back to her bedroom. The last thing she needed was to have her last memory of the day be of Preston, so she grabbed the photo album off her nightstand and curled up in bed with it.

She had pictures of every one of her friends. She made sure of that after she got the camera in the mail - an early birthday present from her big brother. The first picture was of him, right before he sent the camera off to her. He'd grown a beard, and she hardly recognized him anymore, but he had the same blue eyes and smushed nose she remembered. It was sent with a tripod, and could do timed pictures, so she had pictures of herself standing with her friends. Or hugging. Or groping. Vivi smirked at a picture of herself grabbing Shannon's tits from behind, and a look of shock from Shay. Of course she did the same thing to Vivi a moment later, but she didn't have a picture of that.

Noah had a nice smile in his. She felt close to all her friends, but Noah was still a bit of a mystery to her. She'd like to find out more about him, but they never really got a chance to be alone together for very long. Usually they wound up running into another friend before long, and Noah was pretty reserved anyway. Brian, on the other hand, seemed to want to be alone with her. She worried about that, but he'd never do anything to hurt her so it wasn't really a problem. Liam...she didn't want to think about Liam, so she moved on to Liz, and decided she didn't want to think about her either. A little annoyed, Vivi put the book down and threw off her pants before diving under the covers. She had work to do tomorrow, and she wanted to get up early to visit the park.

Spoiler:

Friday morning, a promise of a paycheck and a well-deserved weekend had arrived. The sun had yet to peek out from under the horizon, and the only sound that could be heard was the neighbor upstairs stumbling about to find the bathroom. His voice was muffled, and singing in Hindi. Vivian would be able to hear the entire routine - the footsteps, the toilet flushing, and the impromptu Bollywood soundtrack. Who needed an alarm clock anyway?

It was cloudy today, with only the sight of telephone poles lining up under a smoky sky outside the apartments. A small grackle would land by a puddle on the sidewalk for a drink, and was soon joined by others. The local paperboy would haphazardly clear through the puddle on his bicycle, dispersing them. He would make his rounds through the complex, going up through each flight of stairs and tossing the daily paper at every door. The headlines as of late were always the same grim tale, but of a different location.


The locals of the apartment complex were already past the point of being fazed, as indicated by a middle-aged man in his robe and slippers quickly turning over to the inappropriately adjacent funnies section. The park wasn't too far from the amphitheater. To many on a day like this, the park was a nature-filled wonder complete with a pond and a trail that skirted through a clear path of thickets... and to others it was an allergy attack waiting to happen.

At this time, the park would be barren of any other person; save for a lone man in a suit who happened to be feeding ducks.

Vivian woke late, after rolling over to the sound of her upstairs neighbors. After living in the apartment complex for so long, she'd grown used to the sounds - though annoying - and could fall right back asleep. She did eventually wake up, though, and literally rolled out of bed and onto the yoga mat on her floor. Eyes half closed, she went through her usual routine of stretches and a light workout to get her body warmed up. She thrived in her routine and soon she was mostly awake. To complete her morning ritual, she showered, poured herself a hot cup of coffee, and retrieved the morning paper to read while she reclined on the moth-eaten sofa.

She pointedly ignored the front page. She browsed through the pages, glancing at the photos with a critical eye, until she finished her cup of coffee. Then she returned to her room and began to get dressed for the day. An hour and a half later, she had her long hair brushed, dried, and woven into a loose braid thrown over her shoulder. With warm black sweats and a sleek pink parka, matching mittens and scarf, and camera bag hung on her shoulder she braved the cold and headed for the park.

The air was fresh, crisp, and pleasant. Despite how she normally felt about the cold, she did so love the smell of winter. The cold killed most of the stink of the city, and that effect was doubly noticed in the park nearby. She let herself smile and waved to the man feeding ducks by the pond. They'd never spoken, so she didn't know his name, but she often came across him in the mornings and it was nice having something constant in her life. She would have approached him, but he always looked peaceful, so she didn't want to be a bother to him and let him enjoy his morning.

She walked a little further along the path before removing her camera from it's case and carefully adjusted the lens. She must have a thousand pictures of the pond by now, but today it was covered in a thin layer of ice and frost from the night's cold, giving it a pretty sheen and beautiful, swirling patterns. She lifted her camera and captured the light of the morning sun shining off the ice. She was no good at drawing or writing, but photography had always been her passion. It was easy to relax when she had her camera, but sometimes it made her think of her brother.

Where was Zander now? She couldn't remember the last time they'd seen each other, and the camera had been his gift to her some years ago. Since then, he hadn't responded to any of her letters. She hoped he was okay, and living a fulfilling life. Maybe he had a wife and children by now. She would have liked to meet them.

A nod and a wave was returned by the stranger at the park before he returned to tossing bread. Then, a sudden break in the serenity. Several disruptive beeps sounded from his pocket where he produced his pager. His subtle smile now turned into a grim frown as he let out a sigh. The stranger shoved his hands into his pockets and made way for his pickup truck, in which despite someone of his lanky figure and cursorily dressed suit - one would not expect him to own. An inconspicuous black tarp was secured over the cargo bed, leaving any wonder of its contents to the imagination. Within seconds, the man was gone.

For several minutes the park remained still and silent, until a familiar face would appear by the pond. Noah. His presence was like most of his stories; often without a clear beginning. Hard to say how long Noah had been park or if he had just shown up, a subject matter that would be awkward to bring up if not within the closest circles of friends. He had a certain way about him. Quiet unless spoken to, with a preference to blend in with the background. However this time, he would be the one to speak the first word.

"Quite unusual isn't it?" he began. Unusual indeed, but figuring out what constituted as unusual in the mind of Noah was far beyond normal comprehension. "Those ducks... it's very rare that you'd see birds returning from migration this early, especially considering the current climate. They normally come back during the summer, don't they?" He tucked away his loose leaf book into his coat as to give Vivian his full attention. And there it was: his tranquil smile.

Vivian smiled back at Noah. It wasn't too unusual for him to be in the park, though she was usually the one who spoke first. "Actually, this isn't too strange," she explained. "The ducks come back here for mating season, so them being back now just means we're probably going to have an early spring. They're gonna have little baby ducklings soon! But most importantly..." Vivian stretched her arms up to the sky and let out a whoop. "It's gonna start getting warmer!" she shouted gleefully, startling several of the ducks nearby into flight. When she let her arms back down, she was blushing lightly, feeling only a little foolish for her exclamation.

But she was excited. Spring was, by far, her favorite time of year, and seeing signs of it returning a little earlier this year made her happy. Not too cold, but not too warm, she could finally live without wearing the bulky parka. Sure, there was some decent outfits she could have for winter, but she already exhausted her wardrobe five times over during winter, and winter clothes were expensive.

"But enough about ducks and spring," Vivian said. "You haven't said good morning to me yet." She extended her arms out to him for a hug, camera tucked carefully into its case and strapped over her shoulder. She was getting quicker at doing that.

"And a good morning to you, too," Noah returned, reciprocating the hug albeit with Vivian's parka keeping them a fair distance apart. He wasn't always accustomed to Vivian's familiar ways of endearment, as it was something of an acquired habit. Placed bluntly, Noah wasn't the kind of person his peers would want to touch. It wasn't out of fear or aversion, but reverence. Anyone who had ever met him could only give a single recount of a single fact they knew about him; each person holding a tiny facet of the whole. A major consensus of his peers would brazenly describe him as "beautiful" for lack of a better word.

Not beautiful in the sense of romantic pursuit, mind, but rather delicate - or ethereal. Beautiful as if he was some sort of angel that struck the earth whom simple mortals dared only to observe and never touch. His feathery blonde hair and light features weren't any help in dissuading such flights of fancy, so there he existed: as a creature of rumor. People much preferred it that way, as the potential of discovering that Noah was a common man like the rest of the world would give to disappointment and shatter the legend.

Yet here Vivian was, throwing taboo - which, in her defense she was wholly ignorant to anyway, to the wind. Noah was a friend. Just like Liz, Liam, Brian, and Shannon. It was comforting to meet someone in all of Winddrift who was naturally cordial.

"Quick to start this morning in your photography?" Noah asked, taking note of Vivian's camera. "It's nice to see people like us so committed to our craft. I myself wanted to get some writing in before I go off to the Auria Art Gallery tour. Their exhibit is actually not too far from here, in case you were wondering what I was doing so far from my side of town."