Stepping outside of the coffee shop Ari motions JC to turn left and starts walking beside him down the sidewalk leading to her studio flat not far from there. The weather had returned to its normal sunny state; the rain shower long gone. Turning her head to look at her silent walking partner, she notices that he has slid his hands deeply into the pocket of his hoodie and that his head is tipped forward, his eyes downcast to the paving stones below as he walks. People are walking by, apparently catching up on things they were avoiding while it was raining.

“You okay?” She asks softly leading them down a side street that has considerably less people milling around. “We’re almost there.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just…don’t really want to be recognized right now. I don’t like to say no to fans asking for pictures…but when I look like I've just soiled myself, I’d rather just not deal with that.” He turns his head to look at her, a crooked smile on his lips.

Chuckling, she shakes her head and points ahead toward an apartment building entrance about twenty feet away. “That’s me. Just up a few…uh…” She mumbles as her steps falters, her eyes finding a familiar silver car as it pulls up to the front of the building.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, stopping his step as he notices that she has stopped moving.

“I just…we’ll take the…other way up,” she answers, grabbing his elbow gently and pulling him toward an adjacent alleyway.

“The other way up?” He questions, his voice sounding extremely uncomfortable as she pulls him into the alleyway.“You’re not actually a rabid fan that has some fantasy of tying me up in an alley and doing unspeakable things to me before stuffing my body into a dumpster are you? Cause if you are, I swear my Mom will start looking for me within a few weeks.”

“What? No, of course not…” She answers, shaking her head and looking at him for a moment “I just…my neighbor just pulled up and I’d rather not deal with him when I can.”

“So we’re…climbing up some flower trellis to make it to your apartment on the…5th floor?”

“Just the 3rd…and there is a fire escape,” she indicates grabbing the rung of the rusty ladder hanging a couple of feet off of the ground and pulling it down. “I promise it’s safe…I do this more often than I care to admit.” Her cheeks warm at her admission as she starts to climb the ladder, after a few feet she looks back down at him, she smirks. “Chicken?”

Groaning, he shakes his head with a laugh and grabs the rungs, climbing behind her until they make it to the third level balcony which is nicely full with varied potted flowers and plants. His nose picks up the scent of various herbs as well.

“Is this how you bring all of your men home?” He questions with obvious humor in his voice as they both climb through the large window of her apartment and step onto the worn hardwood floor.

“Just the ones that I really like.” She teases back with a smile, setting her bag onto a kitchen table that has varied sizes of photographs scattered upon it. “I mean, if they can’t make it up the ladder that doesn’t bode well for their stamina, you know?” Hearing no reaction from him, she looks up and notices that he has stopped short and is looking down at her table.

“Jesus, you’re not a Pap are you?” The humor is his voice and face has disappeared as he eyes the pictures and various pieces of camera equipment scattered around the room.

“Nah. If I would have been any kind of good paparazzi I would have snapped a picture when you were dabbing at your crotch in public earlier.” With a giggle at his stunned expression, she shakes her head and reaches forward to pat his shoulder gently. "I’m a photographer, I do take pictures for a living but not of celebrities.”

“Right.” His entire body seems to relax again as he releases a small breath he’d apparently been holding. “What kind of photography do you do then?” He questions as he steps forward and starts picking up a few prints and looking through them. “These are cool.”

“Um…anything really. I’ve been having to do a lot of weddings, graduations, special occasions you know. That’s what pays the bills right now. Honestly though, I rather do more creative…artistic work but I’ve been having a hard time getting inspiration lately. Usually my favorite thing is when I can catch something in motion or just part of a scene where without knowing what else is in it you really have to wonder what is going on. Like what emotion is shown, what the end result of the scene is…it kinda leads you to make up a story in your head. Everyone sees something different usually.” She answers, watching him nod as she speaks.

“Yeah, I get that. Sort of like when I write a song. To me it is clear what it means, who it is about, what emotion I am feeling…but to someone else listening to the song they could get a total different meaning out of it, different emotion.”

He totally gets it.

This is why I came out here, to find other creative people that think like me.

Open minds.

“How bout we get you out of those clothes eh?” She says as she walks further into the studio and toward an area that is blocked from view by a modern looking silk dressing screen.

The studio is a nice mix of industrial and modern where every surface gleams with stainless steel, worn wood or brick. The kitchen and living areas are small but the incredibly high ceiling makes the place feel open and airy. She’d fallen for it as soon as she’d stepped foot into the apartment, loving the new and old feeling of the converted manufacturing plant. The walls and floors all had their own scars and stories for her to imagine. Since everything was an open room, she’d added the silk screen she’d found at a thrift store to block off her bed area from the rest of the room somewhat. It gave her a small semblance of privacy when they only actual door was the large white one a few feet from her bed which leads into her bathroom.

As she steps behind the screen, she pulls open a drawer from a wooden dresser and pulls out a pair of gray sweat pants and an old white Nike t-shirt.

“I don’t know what you’ve read lately, but it’s been a while since I’ve just met a girl at a coffee shop and taken off my clothes for her within a few minutes…” She hears him say wryly as she steps back into the main area of the studio, clutching the clothes.

“I was going to offer you these clothes while your other ones get washed…but if you are offering to walk around in your underwear…”

Laughing heartily he steps forward and accepts the clothing, inspecting them for a moment to try and gauge their size.

“They’re my brother’s. He came to visit a few weeks ago and he forgot some of his gym clothes that were in the laundry pile when he left. They'll be...baggy on you but I guess it's better than nothing...”

“This’ll work. Thanks. In there?” He points to the white door that he correctly assumes is the bathroom. After a nod from her, he walks towards it and pushes open the door.

“Just hand me the dirty clothes out of the door when you’re done and I’ll put them in the washing machine.” Stepping away she adds, “I’m hungry. You want a BLT?”

“Yeah, sure! Thanks!” She hears his reply muffled by the door. Soon it cracks open and his arm reaches out with the jeans, the hoodie and the t-shirt. Grabbing them, she makes her way to the little area near the kitchen where she was able to install a small apartment sized washer and dryer. Since all of his items are of dark color, she adds the proper amount of detergent along with the clothing to the washer and shuts the lid.

In her kitchen area, she starts pulling things from the refrigerator to make the sandwiches; slicing up some tomatoes and lettuce, toasting some bread and warming the bacon in the microwave. She hears the sink running in the bathroom and figures he decided to wash up a little bit.

“That’s much better.” He says from close behind her a moment later, she turns to find him dressed in the casual clothing and she can’t help but smile.

Is this what you look like at home?

Just hanging out?

Just delicious like that?

Biting her lower lip, she returns to the task at hand putting together the sandwiches, leaning down to grab a bag of chips from a cabinet to hide her blush.

“I like this place.” He says quietly, taking a seat at one of the three bar stools in front of the kitchen island. “Are those all yours?” He asks, pointing to the varied pictures printed on canvas and framed in glass encasements either hanging on the walls or leaning up again one.

“Most of them. I put up my favorites, ones I never want to sell you know, just to keep for my enjoyment.” She sets a plate with a sandwich in front of him and places the open bag of chips on the island between them.

“Thanks. This looks great.” He smiles as he reaches down to grab the sandwich and takes a bite, chewing slowly as his eyes keep roaming around the room, resting on different pictures for a moment then moving around again.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Damn it.” She groans and runs a hand over her face quickly.

He must have heard me moving around in here.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Are you going to ans-” He starts to ask cautiously but his voice quiets with the withering look that she gives him.

“No. Shh. He’ll go away.” She whispers, her eyes downcast at her sandwich.

“I know you’re in there Arianna! I just need…some sugar!” She hears a loud voice coming from the outside of her locked front door.

“Go away Kenny! I don’t have any sugar.” She yells back at the closed door.

“Aw, come on honey! I’m sorry about what I said the other day! I’m sure you can get some other guy to date you other than me…but right now I’m all you’ve got. It’d just help if you put out once in a while….”

Oh my god…he did not just say that in front of JC.

Great.

She instantly feels her cheeks warm and her teeth start digging into her lower lip. As hard as she tries, she is unable to keep the slight sheen of tears from welling up into her blue eyes.

Hearing the bar stool JC was sitting on screech backward, she looks up to see him making his way quickly to the front door, taking his t-shirt off on the way there. He throws the shirt onto the nearby couch then slides the lock on the front door and pulls it open.

“Just so you know, she does put out. Just maybe only to guys that don’t talk to women like shit and come around looking for sugar, you hear me?” He asks calmly, looking up into the face of the larger man leaning against the door frame who is obviously taken aback by his sudden presence at her door.

Kenny doesn’t seem to know what to do next, his eyes dart over JC’s bare chest, the low riding sweat pants and then above his shoulder into the apartment, trying to look in. Apparently he assumes exactly what JC is trying to convey with his appearance and his words.“Now, how about you go to the corner store and get yourself some of that sugar? Cause you certainly aren’t getting any from her.” JC finishes, grabs the door, slams it shut and slides the deadbolt back into place with finality.