* must be reason | grace

[JUDE KENNEDY]

AND FOR A MINUTE THERE,
I LOST MYSELF, I LOST MYSELF

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, KARMA POLICE, ARREST THIS MAN, HE TALKS IN MATHS[/color][/b][/font]
this is what you get[/color][/font]
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Jude fumbled with his room key as he tried to juggle his wallet and cell phone at the same time. His success was limited, which translated to his dropping the key and his cell at the exact same moment. He cringed at the sound of his phone smacking the concrete; at this rate, he’d have to buy out an entire T-Mobile store. As the door to his shitty little room at the Motel 6 swung closed with a threatening finality, Judge focused his attentions on the items that lay at his feet. Of course, his wallet had survived the fall without much to show for it. His phone, meanwhile, lay ominously on its display, hiding any damage that the descent might have inflicted on it. Reaching down, he picked it up the way a child retrieves a slug from under a rock, much trepidation written on his features.

The look evaporated into thin air once he flipped the victim-phone around in his fingers. No damage. Sweet. A sunny smile appeared on his face for a minute as Jude silently thanked the cell phone gods for pardoning his offense. Another day with communication was bound to be a good one. With those thoughts floating about his mind, he set off on his café rendezvous. Truthfully, he didn’t know who he meeting. Apparently, her name was “Adebowale.” He stopped in his steps, causing his sketchy neighbors to stare suspiciously at him from behind their curtains. Jude slowly resumed his descent of the stairs, confusion all over his features as he thought about his new acquaintance. How the hell did you pronounce that? He didn’t want to offend her. But really, didn’t she have a nickname that the rest of the world could say without feeling like at Name Butcher?

He flipped his phone around in his hand, absentmindedly pressing numbers as he tried to think of a good way to dodge saying her name. No reasonable solutions appeared and he felt more like a jerk every passing second he contemplated it. It was either say the name and mangle it or not say the name and look like an asshole. The options weren’t appealing either way. Jude wondered if she would be upset.

He thought about the whole yelling his name in the middle of the night thing-…he hoped she wouldn’t take the name thing too drastically or the café was in for some audible abuse.

His destination was the Coral Tree Café. That was the place they’d agreed to meet. Jude liked it. It was way upscale in comparison to the joint he worked at. The Coral had an atmosphere, an ambiance going for it. Java Joe’s, Jude’s place of employment, was…well, a hole in the wall with a painting of Elvis. He’d much rather have a name-mangling session in a nice setting at least. What made little sense to him was this anxiety. Was he nervous? He’d gotten along well enough with “Addie” over AIM. What was there to be nervous about? Really.

Before he knew it, he was in front of The Coral. A few people moved around him to go inside and Jude stood there, fiddling with his phone. He didn’t really know what he’s was looking for. “Addie” probably was brunette…given her roots. Maybe she had a tan. He wasn’t too sure. So, with that, he slipped inside with a few people chattering noisily. They all headed to a corner that they seemed to own and that left him in the middle of the shop, completely lost as to who he was looking for.

[GRACE SINCLAIR]

come away with me ,
THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO THAT CAN’T BE DONE
NOTHING YOU CAN SING THAT CAN’T BE SUNG
NOTHING YOU CAN SAY, BUT YOU CAN LEARN HOW TO PLAY THE GAME
IT’S EASY.

Pathological liars had it made.

Not that Grace was a pathological liar, but she was the closest thing to it when it came to the wire. There was little she wouldn’t say just for a bit of fun, and there wasn’t much of a line to cross if it meant being amused for just a bit longer. Life for Grace Sinclair was nothing more than one big game, she seemed to believe, and if it was a game, why not milk the shit out of that game, hm? Why not squeeze the life out of it, and laugh it out of jokes, so hard that her stomach hurt for days? Why not?

“Well, darling, I can show you just where that quarter went, but only if you promise to sing my favorite song.”

It was a dear old man who’d taken the place beside Grace at her two-person table near the front wall of the Coral Tree Café that afternoon; his prickly white beard had taken to standing on end this afternoon, most likely from his inability to afford a razor, or much of anything else. No, Mister Strome was the nicest of old men, but not the best smelling or best looking when it came down to it.

With forearms pressed against the wood of the table, Grace Sinclair was leaning forward, eagerly watching the man as he attempted so confidently to make the magic quarter reappear. Now, being the character that she was, with her eyes alert for any sign of secret maneuvers, Grace was absolutely enthralled, though not entirely convinced. She’d watched this trick over and over again, and each time, the coin disappeared, and then reappeared, and then disappeared into his pocket. It was a good thing the man was so talented when it came to charming quarters right out of young women’s pockets – otherwise, he’d have a problem.
“I promise,” Grace cooed, taking a moment now to turn around and glance about the Café for the real reason she was here. People watching had truly become her specialty since her move to Vegas, and just by spending a few lone moments staring – with that casual tilt of her head – she could easily come up with a history and a reason for being there in her head. Of course this time, she was using her keen talent to pick out a certain Jude, who was looking for his dear friend, Adebowale.

Well, Adebowale was seated just paces away from him when he walked in, a motion that brought an instant upturn to her lips. Grace thoroughly enjoyed torturing others, so watching him with that puzzled look on his face made her giggle, just lightly.

“So, I’ll be taking off now. Good luck finding your quarter!” The man’s quickness to stand and flee reeled her in from her thoughts, and she sat there alone now, simply watching Jude. The best part was that he was utterly unaware of who he was looking for, and if he had conjured up some sort of mental picture, it was entirely inaccurate.

With amusement, Grace glanced at the guitar case by her feet, and then leaned back in her seat. This would prove to be a wonderful afternoon. She was beginning to consider even revealing herself at all! Oh, that imp.

[JUDE KENNEDY]

AND FOR A MINUTE THERE,
I LOST MYSELF, I LOST MYSELF

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, KARMA POLICE, ARREST THIS MAN, HE TALKS IN MATHS[/color][/b][/font]
this is what you get[/color][/font]
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Jude figured he probably should have asked for a photo or something. That would have been the smart thing to do. Smart people scoped things out, made plans and had courses of action. All he had was a name he couldn’t pronounce. And a possible idea of what she looked like…which could be anyone really. This was the most epic fail he’d had in a long time. Really terrible, truth be told. But there was no taking it back now. He just had to figure this out.

He wondered briefly if having coffee would help this predicament. Undoubtedly, it could only complicate matters more, considering that caffeine never really helped his thought processes move forward. Usually, they just progressed faster…not necessarily faster in the right direction. In any case, Jude had to find something to do before standing in the middle of a crowded café started to attract too much attention, because this is what he imagined he would have to deal with in a few moments.

The cashier wasn’t terribly helpful. But then, Jude wasn’t making a great deal of sense either. He muttered to himself about coffee particulars: one pump of vanilla, half-caffeinated, no foam, extra shot…After the longest deliberation in the history of coffee drinking, he came to the conclusion of his usual. Café Americana. Water and a shot of espresso. Nothing too frilly or that required much thought on behalf of the barista. A very obvious plea for the person in charge of its creation to just not fuck it up.

True to form, the barista managed to not fuck up the most simple drink in the world. Possibly galaxy. Jude took it with a grateful smile and pleased raise of his eyebrows before taking a rather large drink. It wasn’t the most pleasant taste on his tongue but his favorite things usually weren’t. The coffee slid down his throat with alarming speed and he felt the beginnings of choking. Hand clapping over his mouth, Jude tried to prevent his impending death by beverage. He succeeded but not without copious amounts of coughing and sputtering.

That certainly didn’t attract any attention.

Jude had to do something before he put his own eyes out.

So he sat down at the nearest table, not sure who or what was there but managing to do it without offending anyone. Or upsetting any more drinks. He realized a few minutes after triumph that he was sitting at an occupied table. Turning, somewhat self-conscious, Jude offered his brightest smile in hopes that he wasn’t about to be thrown to the ground by a large, muscled man. He laid eyes on a dark-haired girl with the biggest eyes he’d ever seen. His mouth shortly followed suit with the brilliant line, “I didn’t know anyone was sitting here.”

Not that he’d even taken care to check first.

“Uh…” He paused because wit was going to come, surely, “I’m waiting on a friend. I haven’t found her yet. Is it alright if I crash your table in the meantime?”

[GRACE SINCLAIR]

come away with me ,
THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO THAT CAN’T BE DONE
NOTHING YOU CAN SING THAT CAN’T BE SUNG
NOTHING YOU CAN SAY, BUT YOU CAN LEARN HOW TO PLAY THE GAME
IT’S EASY.

Grace wasn’t sure she could take this any longer. It wasn’t as if she didn’t enjoy watching the poor guy stand awkwardly in the center of the café – because really, she was enjoying it quite a bit – she simply felt the beginnings of what most people called guilt. It wasn’t the usual sort of guilt that would have triggered most people out of their evil doings and coax them onto the right path; no, hardly, this sort of guilt was the kind that lasted just a moment, before the person – or in this case, our dear protagonist, Gracie – went on with her torturous doings.

Or watchings.

At first she remained as neutral as possible. With an elbow resting against the table and her head perched promptly in her hand, Grace Sinclair simply watched Jude with utmost amusement. She watched the way he sauntered up to the barista and muttered something or other to her, and then recover his drink minutes later. He must have been a simple guy then, since no complicated drink would have taken a mere minute and a half to whip together. In that moment, Grace realized that she liked Jude, because just a few seconds before, she resolved that she liked simple people. Really, her logic was quite impeccable.

Grace watched Jude choke, too. She couldn’t help but giggle a bit to herself, but it was only after she’d turned her head away to do so, for fear of attracting attention. Plus, she was sure that if Jude noticed a young woman watching him, he’d realize that Adebowale was sitting right in front of him, making a mockery of his unpleasant situation. Fortunately, there were a few other people in their vicinity that had glanced at Jude in his cough fit, so she wasn’t entirely out of character when she allowed a weak and beautiful chuckle to escape her lips.

It was when he began to shorten the distance between them that Grace began to panic. Did he know? He couldn’t have – she was sly as hell and situations like these were her specialty! For a moment, she was sure he’d head for the door but lo and behold, he absently sat his bottom down in the chair across from her – the irony was great – while her eyes widened and she leaned forward, simply to make sure she hadn’t made this entire ordeal up.

Fate was a silly thing, really.

Desperate to seem completely calm and composed, Grace crossed her legs, leaned back in her seat and subjected her hands to her lap. She then wished she’d bought herself a drink too, for here she was, waiting at a table with nothing to keep her occupied, which surely reflected that she too was waiting for someone. But the game wasn’t up, and neither was Grace’s little act.

“Oh don’t worry,” she managed to say calmly, “I’m sure everyone mistakes a person’s presence for nothing but air once in a while.” With every intention of torturing him further, she leaned in once more, forearms on the table, gaining momentum once more. “You know, I like not to be reminded of my height – or lack thereof – every once in a while. It’s not enough that everyone in the world calls me short every minute of my life. I don’t like that word…short. I prefer the term, ‘fun-sized.’”

She watched as the panic set into his face, and then finally allowed her own stern and offended look to wear off, and replace it with a smile. “Breathe, I’m just teasing,” she confessed, “And yes, you may. I’m due on stage in five.” She cocked her head towards the small platform near the opposing wall, before extending her hand across the table. “I’m Grace, by the way.”

[JUDE KENNEDY]

AND FOR A MINUTE THERE,
I LOST MYSELF, I LOST MYSELF

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, KARMA POLICE, ARREST THIS MAN, HE TALKS IN MATHS[/color][/b][/font]
this is what you get[/color][/font]
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“Oh, no, I mean-…I didn’t-…” Jude sputtered, rapidly backpedaling from a conclusion he hadn’t even known he’d reached. The girl was, in fact, a little more petite in size but he hadn’t even noticed her, let alone her height. He wasn’t sure how he’d missed her, now that he subtlety took the sight of her in. She was a sight indeed. Size-wise, she was right: she was tiny. But other than that, she had the sort of features that made her stand out in a room. Or maybe that was Jude. He had a tendency to become wrapped in the smaller details, such was the artist in him. Her eyes, by far, were the biggest, darkest eyes he’d ever seen. The color was the kind that took him hours to create on the palette…It was then that Jude was rudely reminded of the last time he had a date. Embarrassing and thankfully, a little known fact that he was to keep to himself.

Luckily, just as easily as he was tossed onto it, he was off the hook again because she was teasing him about his lack of observational skills…if she only knew.

Reaching out to clasp her hand in his for a second, Jude’s trademark smile flittered onto his lips. An impromptu introduction but an impressive one nonetheless. He’d made friends with a musician by accident. That was a first. Usually, he had a penchant for attracting them. But it seemed this time was just the opposite to his rule. Normally, people balked at other’s defying the typical expectations in their lives. Jude, on the other hand, enjoyed it. Shaking up the routine was one of his favorite pastimes. Anyone that could add to that was more than welcome to do so.

“Okay, good. I was a little worried there. ‘Fun-sized’ or not, you probably could take me and that’d be embarrassing in the middle of all these people,” Jude chuckled, obviously not being entirely truthful, “I’m Jude. And not familiar with your work. You play here a lot? This is my first time ever in the place, so you’ll have to excuse my newbie-ness.”

Ew. He scolded himself. Did he really just say that? Newbie-ness? Was that even a word?

He wasn’t going to blush. Jude chanted the mantra in his head resolutely before continuing on, trying to change subjects before they dwelled on the diction blunder. “Uh…yeah, so. I feel kind of guilty now that I’m not making as much of an effort to find my coffee-date. She’s supposed to meet me here but I kind of, don’t know what she looks like. And don’t even ask me her name because I’ll probably humiliate myself in any kind of rendition of it. I mean, if you see her, Ade.. ‘Addie’, tell her Jude is sorry he missed her.”

Right on time, his rambling made the usual appearance into the conversation.

Turning away, Jude tried to look as though he were deep in thought, when in reality, he was fighting off the urge to pick up and take off. “Uh…yeah. So…yeah, what sort of music do you play?”

[GRACE SINCLAIR]

come away with me ,
THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO THAT CAN’T BE DONE
NOTHING YOU CAN SING THAT CAN’T BE SUNG
NOTHING YOU CAN SAY, BUT YOU CAN LEARN HOW TO PLAY THE GAME
IT’S EASY.

Newbie-ness?

The moment that slipped from Jude’s pink lips, Grace was enthralled. In that moment, she decided, right then and there, that Jude whatever-his-last-name-was would be her best friend. After all, he was naïve enough to hunt for a supposed ‘Adebowale’ in a crowded café, and determined enough to sit awkwardly at a table with a young woman he had failed to notice. They would be the next Peanut butter and Jelly, and he’d be the Grilled to her Cheese. He, Jude whatever-his-last-name-was would be her best friend, and that was that.

But first things first: Grace would have to tell Jude the truth. The thing about Grace Sinclair was that at times, she prioritized her own amusement, even if it was at the expense of others. Truthfully, she didn’t really know Jude yet, but she had every intention to, and when they were best friends, she would try a bit harder to torture him less, even if it meant sacrificing a few laughs for the cause.

For the next few minutes, Grace didn’t bother attempting to speak any, and instead cupped her glass of water, sipping on it occasionally. Usually a cup of tea soothed her throat best before singing, but the truth was, she couldn’t even afford tea. The problem with living alone, in a foreign and frighteningly expensive city such as Las Vegas was that even she couldn’t control her weak spending habits, and they always seemed to get out of control. The few necessities she’d dubbed worthy of purchasing seemed to squeeze out her stash even a day before her next paycheck, but that was life, she’d concluded. She’d rather be broke and miss a meal than succumb to prostitution!

When she’d snapped out of her thoughts, Jude had mumbled some more, but he didn’t seem too concerned with her, and more about finding this mysterious date. It was then that the current act fled from the stage, acting as her cue. So she bent over, unhooked the locks of her guitar case, pulled out the beaten acoustic plastered with stickers pleading for peace, and stood.

“Well, you’re about to find out,” Grace smirked, before pivoting on her heel and making her way to the raised platform. One of the café’s managers placed a stool at the center and adjusted the microphone once she’d taken a seat, and within two minutes, Grace was strumming tune of simple chords.

“This song is dedicated to my new friend, and neighbor, from his dear Adebowale.” Grace giggled, and though no one else seemed to understand, it didn’t matter. Her fingers, strumming lightly on the fragile acoustic, until she could see the faint smiles appearing on those surrounding her.

Parting her lips, Gracie began her song.

“Hey Jude,
Don’t make it bad.
He-ey Ju-ooo-de,
Don’t make it bad.
Take a sad so-ong,
And make it better-rr…”




| ooc | so sorry, this is actually awful.