aventura - - -

[JADA ROSE SINH]

Brushing a stray strand of curiously obscured hair out of her obvious, doll-like features, Jada emitted a small chuckle and crossed her long legs under the table, an entry-level canon rebel placed easily on the table, almost as though it was of no value to her. She had the tendency to end up schlepping her shit around in a bag that was twice her size, which may have explained her similarly careless tendency to just ditch it on whatever hard surface was around her. This, more often than not, was a table in some random cafe or somewhere similar. Don't get her wrong, she didn't have absurd amounts of money to blow on coffee and whatever the fuck else happened to catch her fancy, but she did have maybe ten bucks a week to spend on herself and what little of that she didn't spend, she saved, which went into a bigger debit account.. and that was where her starbucks came from, when she sequestered it. Now, though, she wasn't drinking anything, just sitting there, a warm diet coke in her hand from home and her bag draped across the opposite chair, her long legs crossed under the surface of the booth and extended across the space between her seat and said chair, ankles leaning against the edge of the metal. It was a casual pose, and yet it seemed a bit obvious; she didn't exactly blend in, after all, and it was quite obvious that she was looking for someone. That might have been a hell of a lot easier if her second pair of eyes, Napolean, wasn't being a chicken shit and off hiding somewhere after their, um... well, what exactly would you call that? A fuck and run? Yes, that seemed mostly accurate and for the most part, Jada would have been satisfied with it. Unfortunately, they were drunk, and they plowed, and then she was left without a pal and without bait, either, which was bad. Because her job was suffering for it.

But she wasn't looking for him.

She was looking for the ever-elusive singer of that one song, the one that everyone always sang.. and maybe Lady Gaga, although she somehow doubted that if she did stumble across that woman, they'd just be talking. The Gaga had a penis, and she was certain that one day she'd find it. But that was besides the point – that stupid bitch was supposed to show up with her group of like, five thousand fans and friends for a signing at the coffee shop a bit later, and she was already ten minutes late. Whereas a group of loyal followers had shown, the starlet was nowhere to be seen, and Jada was growing impatient. Her goldfish attention span was running thin, much like the knees of her three hundred dollar leggings, a treat she'd splurged on, regretted, and then worn thin. Ultimately no one noticed, which surprised her, given the obvious color and pattern, but they never said anything if they did happen to pick up on it. She figured it was probably her face distracting them, as unusual as it was. Why did people always comment on the things that couldn't be changed? Among her face, there was also her hair, her height, and her teeth, the last of those could be fixed, but it was too expensive and socialized healthcare in England did nothing for that. Braces weren't exactly common, she guessed... sort of. In actuality she had no idea what the hell she was talking about when it came to that sort of shit.

Pumps bringing her up another three and a half or so inches from her normal height, she must have stuck out like a sore thumb as she exited the coffee shop, her patience completely pushed to the limit. And then her eye caught something flashy, and she paused for a moment, lips curling into a satisfied smile as she tilted her head and stared... the musician. Whatever her name was. “Hey, you!” she called, her british accent obvious and loud as she quirked her lips and brought the camera up to her right eye, backing up a little bit to get a better shot. Whereas other paps didn't bother trying to make a picture look good, she figured, oddly enough, she was the only one there at the moment and she might as well; she usually did.

Unfortunately Murphy's law wasn't agreeing with her at the moment, and the stiletto of her expensive heels got stuck in between a crack in the sidewalk, her long, slender frame crashing over haphazardly and bringing someone down with her, but she didn't have time to recognize the man, although she could tell at least the person's gender by the feel of their body, before she was practically laying on top of them. Eyes sliding open, just slightly, as soon as she was safely on the ground, she groaned and flopped backwards, probably still in the lap of the gentleman who'd been so kind as to break her fall, and resisted the impulse to check her camera. She didn't want to see the damage, she really didn't. Frown lining her lips, she closed her eyes again, and that's when a familiar smell hit her.

Sitting bolt upright, she scrambled on her knees to snatch the camera off of the ground, a couple of inches from the pile she'd fallen into, brushed her hair out of her face, and checked the lens for any signs of damage, only to find an inch-long scratch right along the center of her wide-angle lens. She let out a dissatisfied little screech, sat back on her rear end, and murmured “Shit,”, the word coming out a little dreamily before the reality of what happened hit her, and she said it again.. “Shit”

OUTFIT clickkkk.
WORDS 985.

[NAPOLEAN GUY RIPLEY]

not for the first time in his life napolean found himself in the most awkward of situations. it was actually something that happened quite often to the poor boy, but not always in the exact way it had this time. despite the fact that he went around telling everyone he was charming, and maybe he was, there were moments where that just dropped and he was the most awkward guy on earth. those were the moments when he forgot himself. and then of course there were moments like what happened with jada, his friend. he usually stayed away from friends when it came to his need for pleasure. it was a rule. to save himself from awkward run-ins. but after a few drinks he seemed to forget that, and forget the fact that she was only nineteen...and he was twenty-five. but despite the fact that he liked the girl, as a friend obviously, he was regretting their little night together. because in his mind there was now no way they could go back to the way they used to be. it was kind of weird, but the reason he'd first found himself wanting to be friends with her was because of her accent. it reminded him of his mother - and napolean was a notorious momma's boy. he'd been born in england, with two english parents...but hadn't lived there long enough to actually pick up the accent. nonetheless he grew up hearing them around him. but that was completely besides the point. the point was, they’d had a beautiful friendship. a weird one maybe, but he enjoyed it. he helped her out with her work...which had admittedly been fun for him. napolean got to get close to the stars anyway thanks to his job, as journalist. a pretty good journalist, so he was fairly well known himself. and even if he wasn’t he still got to interview the people she pretty much stalked. so of course he did his part in helping her get her little pictures. in other words baiting the celebrities she so craved to come out of their little homes. and sometimes even tracking down where exactly they lived for her.

but he hadn’t been doing any of this lately. rather he’d been narrowly avoiding the young woman. not returning her phone calls, deleting her texts. and feeling horrible about it all, really. he should have at least told her why he was avoiding her like he clearly was. even though it didn’t really take a genius to figure that one out, now did it? he was completely out of his element. when it came to sex, he either did it whilst drunk with random strange girls who threw themselves at him, or with people he was in an actual relationship with. although he’d really only had three relationships in his entire life, so it was more often the first one. not that napolean was one of those people who needed sex to live, not at all...but well, he was a man, and so he liked sex. he couldn’t really help that. it wasn’t a crime. it probably wasn’t even a big deal...they were both drunk, they’d had sex. it didn’t really mean anything to either of them. but of courses that was the exact reason he was avoiding her. he didn’t know that it didn’t mean anything to her. there was still a chance that she had a little childish crush on him, or something along those lines. fine, maybe it was a stretch, but napolean had never really been known for being realistic. and it just seemed like a better idea for him to sit in his house all day and write than venture out and threaten himself with a little run-in with the last person he wanted to see at this exact moment.

but he needed coffee. unlike the rest of his little tea drinking family, napolean ripley ran completely on coffee. black. no cream, no sugar. it was bitter and it suited him well...plus it made him feel manly. he’d been drinking it like that since the age of sixteen, and while at first he’d made faces and had to force it down, now he kind of enjoyed the bitter taste. and it gave him a little jolt of electricity when he needed it. and he needed it. the man had been up all night writing. and that was why he found himself walking into the shop in a rather zombie-like way, ordering his coffee...and the minute he took one bitter sip he was already feeling better. there was a reason napolean only drank starbucks coffee - anything made at him just wasn’t as good. and what happened next was all sort of a blur. one minute he was walking out of the coffee shop, the next minute he was on the ground. with someone on top of him. and without even a second of thought he knew exactly who it was - oh, why did god hate him so? why did he have to run into the one person he was trying to avoid, and in such an awkward way?

luckily she got off him rather quickly and he cleared his throat and stood up. his coffee was all over the ground now, he felt utterly defenseless looking at the Styrofoam cup lying a few feet away from them. and then his eyes wandered over to the blonde girl, the last person on earth he wanted to see at this exact moment...and frowned, hearing her cursing in her cute little accent. he couldn’t help but feel bad, something was obviously wrong with her camera...and it was his fault for being such a zombified mess and bumping into her like he did. or maybe she’d bumped into him. either way. it hardly mattered. “is it...uh...okay?” he asked, uncertainly. surely she was mad at him for avoiding her. and he was really just feeling more awkward than ever. “if it has any damage i can pay for it. i’m sorry about that. by the way. i’m kind of tired, i wasn’t watching where i was going...” excuses. if he were smart he’d make a quick escape and say he needed to go home and sleep. but despite his four years of college he obviously was not, and continued standing there, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and feeling like the biggest loser on earth.

(status) finished
(words) 1070 words without coding
(tags) jada sinh
(outfit) this & some sort of pants. ;3

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[JADA ROSE SINH]

Jada had never been one much for one night stands. Usually they progressed into god knows what from there, and she didn’t like the idea that someone could possibly end as more than just a friend to her. Being a bit distant, she didn’t really enjoy relationships and thus she was left in that horrible middle space between friends and crushes. Sure, if she liked someone, she’d acknowledge it, but never take it for more than it was worth. She’d yet to actually really, really like someone and for the most part, she hoped she could keep things that way. When you went past that, things got too complicated, people died, shit hit the fan. Too much too fast and then you were all burned out, and Jada was all about longevity. Which may or may not have explained her behavior towards their whole little incident. She could care less what they did and would always be his buddy, no matter what; she’d expected something similar out of the boy but apparently that had been too much to ask for, and that was that. Was she mad? No. Some people couldn’t handle things with such impassivity and she’d gathered that from her time in America. That was fine with her, so long as they didn’t fuck her up otherwise. But this was definitely putting a kink in her plans and she didn’t appreciate that, which may have explained the almost instinctual recoil she’d made, and her behavior towards the man that’d once been one of her closest friends. Well, if he didn’t want it, that was fine. On the inside, though, she was still just a confused teenager, no matter how much she may not have acted like anything got on her nerves or got inside her mind, sometimes it did. They were drunk, they fucked… so what? It’s not like it was going to happen again, for Christ’s sakes, she would have said something by now if she was that interested. It wasn’t like they didn’t hang out all the time, right? Jada was a pretty vocal person, it would have been hard not to notice something like that before.

Of course, none of this thought process was going to come out of her mouth, because when it came down to it, she was a lot more refined than she gave herself credit for being, and even though she hunted down celebrities for a living, she was still able to hold social graces quite well, and that meant doing something like openly calling him out on his shit would be rude. Not that she usually had a problem with that, but whatever shred of friendship was still there, she wanted to save it. Being a cunt wasn’t going to go over well, and she could tell that from the beginning. So instead she just traced her pinky finger over the crack in the glass, her eyes flickering up to see if at least the celebrity had stopped, and, big shocker, she hadn’t. She’d gone inside like it was no big deal that someone just wrecked a seven hundred dollar lens, which, in reality, it wasn’t for her. She could probably afford ten of them. “It’s cracked, dumb shit.” she stated, not in an offensive tone, at least not for Jada. She could be much worse than that, if she wanted to. “Sorry for smacking into you and uh, dumping your coffee.” Well, at least she’d gotten some decent shots before she decided ruining her machinery would be a good idea. Flicking through the couple of frames she’d managed, she offered something of an enigmatic, elusive grin merely moments before shaking her head. “Yeah, boss is going to be so happy. Here, help me up.” she stated, ignoring the pull at the back of her mind that said to scream at him for leaving her alone for four days because of a stupid, stupid tryst. She should have never bought the Jim Beam; in fact, it was slightly questionable as to how she acquired it to begin with, but it was best not to ever question Jada on such subjects. The truth was that you probably didn’t want to know.

Offering her hand to the guy, she managed a sarcastic grin, and shrugged. It wasn’t until she was on her feet, assuming he’d helped her, that she managed her next line of wonderful, witty banter. “How was your trip to Mexico, then?” sometimes, she despised her accent. It not only annoyed the living hell out of her, but it also proved her thoughts that she’d never get away from England, not even with her little brother, not even when her mother died. She’d always have a piece of it with her and ultimately, it wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. Sometimes, that was unfortunate. Sometimes, it aided her in her convincing of how to help and let people help her. Now was not one of those times. The slow way of speaking was so frustrating that she’d adopted a clipped, angered version, taking her from joking to slight disdain within seconds. They were friends, they were just friends and then they’d gone and done the nasty and then everything fell apart and now she’d been sitting in a café, alone, bored out of her fucking mind. “I guess you fell off the face of the planet, sometime down in Cabo, unless I’ve been struck with a vicious amnesia. Haven’t talked to you in days.” eyebrow raising, explanation needed. Abrasive; that was definitely how to describe her in general. So when someone pulled a stunt like that, it wasn’t often she ended up happy about it. With the added dead camera, there wasn’t much holding her sanity together, and considering how limited her sanity was to begin with, that was never a good thing.


OUTFIT clickkkk.
WORDS 978.
NOTES yeah, more than this wasn't happening ;_; im sorry D:

[NAPOLEAN GUY RIPLEY]

napolean really wasn't one to disappear like he did. really he was probably kind of clingy. he texted his best friend, since pretty much forever, eduardo if he didn't hear from him every day. and he woke up at five in the morning, every morning, just to call his mother. and they drank coffee "together". and he and jada had always spent a bit of time together, so he was well aware that the amount of time he'd spent not texting her, or calling her, certainly not seeing her, had been quite obvious. maybe not if he'd been a mysterious guy or something, but he wasn't...he really couldn't be when it came down to it. he was predictable and easy to understand, and he was pretty proud of that little fact. and of course he'd missed the girl. he missed them hanging out, and he missed that it was just easy to be friends with her, in an odd way...and he knew that it wasn't going to be anymore. he missed when she would drag him out and make her help him with her work, and texting her and talking to her on the phone and such. just having a friend that there didn't really have to be any drama with, or any complicated emotions or anything like that. and then of course he had to ruin that by having one too many glasses of wine, and being a stupid, slightly impulsive drunken man.

and it was obvious to him the minute she spoke that she was obviously mad at him...maybe not mad. hurt? upset? he didn’t know. if there was one thing he didn’t know it was just women in general, which of course had led him into this big mess. luckily napolean was not easy insulted, so her dumb shit comment, while it stung momentarily, had kind of been shrugged off. really, he kind of deserved it, did he not? avoiding her. scratching her camera lense - and he knew how expensive they could be. so instead of even looking insulted, he just forced a cheery (and rather awkward) smile onto his face and shrugged his broad shoulders at what she said next. “it’s no big deal. i’m pretty sure the smacking into was a mutual thing...and i was done with it anyhow.” okay the last part was a lie, he hadn’t even really started it. but he supposed it was better to be nice to her at this point in time, since he’d been avoiding her. and then he’d ruined her camera. but he had to admit he was slightly relieved to see that she didn’t seem to be in too bad of a mood. despite the insult, it didn’t really sound cruel to him. and she managed a bit of a grin. even though he was still sure nothing could go back to normal, it could get pretty close, right? maybe. at least to the point where he didn’t feel like he had to constantly avoid the poor girl.

how was his trip to mexico? this was her usual humor, this was probably a good sign...and so he laughed uneasily. even though he could still sense some kind of bitterness, but it was really only to be expected. he’d been a jerk, he wasn’t going to whine if she was bitter about it. he didn’t even really know what to say. what was he supposed to do? deny it? say he’d been busy? make a lame and unbelievable excuse? or just say it straight? none of them seemed like the right option. of course he could always just go along with her joke, laugh and say something about how great mexico had been, sorry he hadn’t had the time to call her...that’s what he usually would have done. but he was feeling awkward. and all he really wanted to do was go crawl back under his little rock and pretend this run-in had never happened. why did she not seem to feel as awkward as he was? maybe she was completely immune. so instead he just stopped over thinking it and said whatever popped into his little mind, which ended up being a bad idea. “yeah, i don’t know. sorry i haven’t called you or anything. i just thought it might be wierd...” he trailed off, not really wanting to elaborate or anything. he didn’t want to talk about it. maybe that was part of the reason he’d been avoiding her. but it wasn’t like this run-in was proving to him that he was wrong. this was weird. or maybe it was all in his head. but of course he realized that it wasn’t exactly a satisfactory smile, and so he decided to hastily add, “and i’ve been quite busy with work. i got a couple big pieces to do - it’s great for my career, not so good for my social life.” this wasn’t exactly a lie. work was going well. he did have a few big pieces he was working on, they were eating up his time...but he still found time to talk to all of his other friends. no, there was no denying to her that he’d been avoiding to her. and so he decided to just give up. “i’m sorry.” he said sheepishly, smiling and running a hand through his probably too-long hair and looking back at starbucks. “if you’d like i could buy us both a coffee and we could forget any of this ever happened?” right. like that was going to happen.

(status) finished
(words) 922 words without coding
(tags) jada sinh
(outfit) this & some sort of pants. ;3
(notes) i really just ramble a lot. haha.<3

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