𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗮𝗱𝘆

❝ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝗶𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗲 . 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 .

[alanacohen]

[ . . . ] 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘴 .

𝙩𝙡𝙙𝙧 ;

Nathan and Judith Cohen raised their only daughter believing she could do anything she set her mind to. Windsor Bay became Alana's stage. She was a talented performer and an impressive student, but Oregon never felt like her long-term home. The second she could, Alana moved to New York City to attend NYU Tisch, where she quickly fell into a passionate (albeit emotionally abusive) relationship with an older playwright. Their eventual breakup sent Alana into a depression so deep she dropped out halfway through her senior year to return home. It's therapy that really saved Alana's life, reminded her who she was at her core. She managed to finish her degree and start a new one. Currently, Alana is balancing her consulting for the Windsor Bay Community Theater and her research-- and things are starting to look up.

𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙨 ;

basics .

biography .

soundtrack .

aesthetic .

musings .

connections .

[alanacohen]

who: Alana & @nainaxvyas where: Corks & Vines

Another day, another follower request from one of Marcus' burner Instagram accounts. The part of Alana that she was desperately trying to kill in therapy-- the toxic part-- was glad he was still trying to check in on her. It meant she was impactful, that all of that pain ultimately meant something to him too, in his own fucked up way. But the part of her that was most present, closest to the surface, panicked at the thought of him knowing anything about her daily life. She knew she'd done years and years of work on herself, that she wasn't the same girl who would fall back into his orbit-- but even the reminder of who Alana used to be stung.

This was the sort of philosophical musing one was meant to do over a glass of wine anyway, she figured as she pushed the door of Corks and Vines open and made a beeline to the shelf of sherry in the back. In her opinion, sherry was the strongest wine could get without becoming disgusting (sorry to port!)-- and Alana needed something strong enough to keep her from embarking on an entire ship-of-Theseus style deconstruction of herself. Ultimately, she made her selection based on the beautifully intricate label, setting it on the counter, smiling at the woman behind the register, "Just this, thanks."

[alanacohen]

who: Alana & @tristanrhale where: Windsor Bay Community Theater

Sure, Alana was technically only a contractor at Windsor Bay Community Theater... and sure, that was for marketing. But she was, if anything, a Type A former class president who knew entirely too much about what made a good production, and entirely too stubborn to let the theater's production fail because the director had flaked. If anything, she was doing this out of spite for the sadistic board of directors that had pushed for a production of Score: A Hockey Musical. It's not that Alana was too good for camp, it's that she doubted an American audience would care so much about such a Canadian show. Who even watched hockey?

And if she was going to do it, she was going to do it well, which sometimes meant calling in an expert. Alana checked her watch, cursing when she realized she was late to meet him at the front of the theater. She'd gotten carried away choreographing the brawl scene. "Stop!" she called, holding up her hand and pinching the bridge of her nose, "Alan, baby, I'm not buying that you've ever been in a fight." Alana whirled around, startled by a large figure looming in the back of the theater. She prompted the actors to run lines while she greeted the stranger.

"Are you the mail order jock?" Alana asked, walking up to him and offering her hand. She had to crane her neck to meet his eyes, which surprised her out of business-mode for a brief moment while she considered asking if the ice had a weight limit. When Alana successfully deduced that that would be rude, she jumped right in, "Alana Cohen, director. You know, I thought I was bringing you in to teach these kids how to hold a hockey stick, but we should also work with them on the fight scenes." She turned, leading him toward the stage before remembering to say, "Oh, and thanks for coming."

[alanacohen]

Alana Cohen's instagram.

@windsorbaysocial

[hecticlife]

the swat to his arm causes him to grin. "hey! you had fun" he reminds her before replying "you did." leon laughs. "you told her she was an old soul and i remember thinking, is this a prank?" he'd been honestly so confused about the whole palm-reading thing. "i even started actively looking for cameras, everywhere. we were so fucked that night." the memory amuses him, he misses those wild nights in new york. he misses the wild nights with alana. she covers her face, embarrassed, and leon thinks she's the cutest ever. a fond smile on his lips. it turns to a scoff, "been there, done that," he sighs. either having someone trying to fix you or you trying to fix someone, those are always some of the most toxic relationships. pulling his hand away from her knee and picking up his beer, the blond listens as she tells him about a clinical psych program. "that's cool." it sounds interesting. "being fucking self-aware is a good problem to have," he offers with a chuckle. at least you know your flaws and can work on them. when she compliments him, leon can tell she's checking him out. fuck, those eyes still have the same power on him. and marcus is now gone from the picture. "yeah, i moved here in june and things are good. i get to work with music, i got my own place... you might not believe me, but it's actually tidy for once," he smiles, playfully. mischievously.

[alanacohen]

"'Course I did," Alana admitted with a laugh. She held up a finger to protest, "And I stand by that! She had an energy, like she's seen a lot." Her laughter only multiplied when Leon admitted he'd actually looked for cameras. "Damn, I would love to read Ashton Kutcher's palm." Alana swiped at a tear that managed to squeeze out, regaining her composure to refocus on their actual conversation. She took a sip of her martini, stirring the olive lazily as she listened intently. "And lived to tell the tale," she hummed, affectionate smile communicating just how glad she was for that fact. "It is, until you're in class with someone who knows your fucking EMDR targets," Alana laughed, taking the final sip of her drink and setting the glass aside. She leaned in to the shifting energy, crossing one leg over the other and letting her foot graze his, almost absently. "I'm not sure I do believe you," she lifted a brow, silently daring him to ask. "It's not very rockstar chic of you to fold your clothes." Her eyes darted to the door, then back to Leon, sweet smile tugging serenely at her lips.

[adriansinclair]

Adrian watched her tear up on command and actually had to look away for a second, like he needed to reboot his entire brain. "Jesus Christ," he muttered, laughter bleeding through despite himself. "Weaponizing fake tears should be illegal. I’m reporting you to someone now, definitely. I’ll figure out who later."

When she snapped back into smugness, he shook his head. "Tracking you? Sure," he said, flat as hell. "Next, I’ll admit I built a shrine in the back room. Get over yourself, Cohen."

She threw the cow line at him and he let out another laugh. "Yeah, well, if I’m the cow in this metaphor, you’re the person standing outside the fence screaming at it," he shot back, following her like this was just how their days went now.

Alana hit him with that question, and he paused for a few seconds. His eyes passed over her like he wasn’t sure if she actually wanted the answer. "Trust me," he said, stepping just close enough to annoy her, "you don’t want to open that door. Not unless you’re ready for the answer. Also, you’re delusional if you think people wouldn’t line up just to see us bicker on a stage. Half this town loves drama more than oxygen."

She brushed past him through the doorway and he huffed at her parting shot. "Consistency?" he replied, shoulder bumping hers as he followed her inside. "I'd never expect it from you either. So, we’re even." He watched her dump the books onto the counter like they’d personally wronged her. "Alright, Broadway," he said softer but still teasing, “you wanna keep sparring or end it now and thank me for being your hero?"

[alanacohen]

Alana smiled, self-satisfied at the fact that she'd actually managed to shock Adrian Sinclair into silence-- even if it was fleeting. She took it in, attempting to commit every detail of his discomfort to memory before breaking the silence with another jab. "Weaponizing is a big word for Elmo," she teased, voice lilting tauntingly.

"Your words, not mine," she shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. "A shrine is sooo Helga from Hey Arnold. I want to believe you're more creative than that." Alana smirked, "I mean, at least you don't have the unibrow."

Alana laughed, noting how automatically Adrian followed her inside, like they were here together on purpose. "Except there's no fence, Bessie," she glanced up at Adrian's face, then back to Main Street, where he came from. "I'm close to thinking you like being yelled at."

She huffed, shaking her head at Adrian emphatically. "You can't do reverse psychology on a psychologist-- I'm not gonna beg." Even if she was desperately curious to know what the hell all that meant. "--And I'm delusional about a lot, by the way."

After dropping off her books, Alana spun around to face Adrian, hands gripping the counter's edge as she considered his question. She pursed her lips thoughtfully, quiet for a beat before asking, "If I choose the latter do I have to wait for you to do something heroic, or...?"

[jj-hayes]

Alana's remark only earned her another eye roll from JJ, and he shook his head before picking up the broken box and breaking it down to dispose of it. "You mean... this suggestion box?" He asked, smirking as he stepped towards the nearest recycling bin and tossed it in. "Good." Letting out a laugh, he shook his head before returning his gaze towards Mia in the stroller. "You be careful around her, sweetheart. Your Aunt Lana can corrupt you very easily," he joked, giving her hair a quick ruffle while he waited for Alana to return. "No, not at all," he lied, shooting her a wink before he picked up one of the boxes and balanced it on the candles of the stroller. "Come on, let's get these inside. Mia's getting cold, and I promised her a hot chocolate." With that, he motioned her towards The Book Nook.

[alanacohen]

"Yes, that suggestion box," she doubled down, then quickly lost her straight face as she watched JJ break down her suggestions box. "I don't suppose you'd take this as a sign from the universe that I'm, like, perfect now. You know, needs no suggestions," Alana attempted, cracking a smile to show she was joking. She watched JJ discard the box, then quickly followed his gaze to perfect Mia. "Corrupt her?" she demanded, "And how do you think I'm going to do that?" Alana shot a cautious glance at the box JJ balanced on the stroller, but went ahead and propped the door open for him anyway. "A hot chocolate?" she cooed, stepping inside and depositing the box on the counter so she could dip her face down to talk to Mia. "Immaculate taste, my girl. Think your daddy will buy Auntie Lana one, too?" she smiled, raising an eyebrow at JJ to see if he'd cave.

[levigoldstein]

Laughter escaped Levi, not because he found it actually amusing, but because he knew the same exact tactics. "You're how much younger than I, and I haven't brought home a wife, think how the holidays are going to be for me this year?" He pointed out, "But you do get the being in New York City, most densely populated cities but you missed one part." Now using his hands to gesture like most of their older relatives. "And you bring home no nice Jewish boy for us to meet?" A tisking noise leaving his lips, "Such a shame, such a pretty girl." Before giving a roll of his eyes, it was nothing he hadn't heard in his years. Levi had come to the conclusion disappointment was just part of his nature and widely accepted in his family now. After all how many people had a law degree and didn't use it. "Favorite cousin? I feel like you're just saying that because I stumbled upon you and had it been Asher you'd be singing a different tune." Eyeing her with disbelief but amusement clear on his face. "No, not really. No work shift today and I don't really know what to do with myself when I'm not working."

[alanacohen]

"I mean, my God Levi-- no wife and no kids?" she teased, putting on the auntie voice once more to plead with him, "Don't you know we're trying to repopulate a people?" Alana laughed, pinching his bicep in retaliation for his eerie impersonation of Bubbe at her college graduation. She groaned, lifting a hand to her head, "I think you're giving me a tension headache." She shook it off, bravely, and chuckled at his accusation, "Are you implying I'd manipulate you? I'm shocked, Levi. Hurt." She absolutely would be singing a different tune if Asher happened to be walking down the street, but wasn't that her right as the younger cousin? Alana hummed sympathetically, "You need like a weird old man hobby. You know, like deep sea fishing or something." Alana hoisted some more books up, moving towards the door before she stopped short and turned to Levi with a gleam in her eye, "You know, I have this TV stand that's just begging to be built... I'll buy you lunch if you help me."

[leylademirci]

Leyla huffed as they stepped outside, shifting the box under her arm. "A full stop? Certainly not," she said, flat. "Pausing just means I get extra time to spiral about it. You did this to yourself."

The second Alana started laughing, Leyla shot her a flat stare that only sharpened when “your species” was thrown back at her. "Oh my god," she mumbled, running a hand down her face. "I wasn’t acting. That’s just how I talk when I’m tired." But the corner of her mouth twitched, betraying her.

When Alana grabbed her arm, Leyla blinked, caught off guard for half a second. "Romantic? That was romantic to you? You really need better material in your life."

Leyla stopped on the curb, staring at her. "Wow. Betrayal before breakfast. Good to know." She bent to scoop more books back into the box, shaking her head. "If lizard people were real, you’d get recruited first. You’re too charming. It’s suspicious." She stood again, handing Alana a small stack.

[alanacohen]

Alana sighed dramatically, pursing her lips in thought for a long moment before laying out her terms-- because, of course, she had terms for a renovation that... honestly didn't involve her at all. "Okay, fine, but you have to promise to hire hot contractors. I don't even care that it's sexist, I think we deserve to drink and watch men get all sweaty."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, grin teasing the edges of her lips, "When you're tired and..." Alana stepped closer to her friend, not breaking eye contact, "... the mask starts to slip?" She devolved into good-natured laughter again, shaking her head fondly.

"Uh, yeah," Alana replied, shrugging at Leyla's comment. It's not like she disagreed-- for the most part, the men in her life were most definitely lacking in the romance department. "You taking a vow of honesty is romantic to me, Leyla-- the bar is in hell. Or... outer space?"

She grinned, taking the books Leyla passed up and humming under her friend's praise. "That's sweet, if I just ignore the first part." Which she was definitely going to do. "Okay, fine. Let me buy you breakfast, we can talk peace strategies to delay the inevitable alien war."

[hattie-mayonnaise]

Hattie felt a slight blush cover her cheeks as she'd remembered the scene differently than Alana. She was almost positive that she'd seen it that way. Her gaze drifted over a few of the titles on the table they'd been standing in front of. Grabbing a blue book 'Funny Story' by Emily Henry, she hadn't read this one before. She flipped it, looking over the summary on the back before nodding as the woman explained psychological horror. "Oh okay" She hummed, "Those sound interestin'" she tucked the blue book under her arm, half deciding to get it.

"I read this one series" she started, "it was..." she paused, exhaling a laugh. "I wouldn't call it romance at all really- it was just...smut" the red returning to her cheeks. "And then physical horror. I dunno... the plot wasn't good" she said "My sister made fun of me when I was tellin' her about it, then it became this inside joke that all I read was reverse Harem books" she exhaled a laugh, shaking her head.

She shook her head at the question, "No" she stated, lingering on the OO sound for a moment. "You've done it?" she asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

[alanacohen]

Alana watched as Hattie seemed to settle on a book, peering to catch the name on the sign. "Emily Henry, I've heard good things about her," she commented, thinking about it for a moment before confirming, "I remember-- my roommate read Beach Read when it came out." She smiled at Hattie's approval, confessing, "I'm a glutton for psychoanalysis. I study psychology, so, it's sort of par for the course."

She laughed, hands up as she reassured her new friend, "Nothing wrong with smut. Hell of a lot easier than a partner sometimes." Alana stopped, turning to Hattie with genuine surprise. "Reverse harem? Okay, I'm obsessed with that. If men get to do it, why shouldn't we?"

Alana confirmed with a nod, "Just once in undergrad. It was like sisterhood of the traveling book recommendation when we all went back home one summer-- my friend sent me with this insanely thick nonfiction book about the Manson murders and I actually liked it. Never would've picked it up myself, though."

[hecticlife]

leon rolls his eyes with a smile on his face. she's not a failed actress, not in his eyes. she's not a failure at all. marcus made her feel that way, too much. "okay, okay, i admit part of it was to piss him off, i absolutely hated that guy," he confesses with a small shrug of his shoulders. then, a playful grin spreads across his lips. "but we did have fun, didn't we? you and me? remember the time we got stuck in the subway for two hours? i could never forget that night." leon notices a little more attention to his face from alana. a small blush creeps up to his ears. she asks him about his dating, and he can't deny that the heartbreak hasn't subsided. not entirely, at least. "yeah. you remember salem, right? we started dating three years ago, but it was a whole on-and-off toxic thing. we both hurt each other because we both had so many fucked up patterns." the blond takes a deep breath and focuses on alana's movements, tilting her head and swiping a little gin off her bottom lip. "but i'm better, you know. salem and i haven't been in touch in over a year, so yeah... moving on and shit." following her lead, leon rests a hand on her knee. "it eventually doesn't suck so much." he hopes his words will make alana feel some sort of relief for the future. "therapy helps. you know, the whole breaking intergenerational traumas so you don't repeat the same fucked up choices. i'm definitely a way better man than back in new york."

[alanacohen]

Alana laughed, light and easy, a rare feat considering the topic of conversation, "And I'll admit-- he was fun to piss off." At least, until she was the one picking up the pieces at the end of the day. She nodded, allowing Leon to lead her down memory lane. "Oh my God, yeah, you got me so high," she teased, swatting at his arm, "That poor woman who helped us get home... I remember trying to read her palm?" Alana covered her face for a moment, embarrassed by the memory. Even if it left her feeling warm, with confirmation that not everything in New York was bad. She hummed sympathetically. Alana knew a thing or two about fucked up patterns, herself, how they can make you feel like a stranger in your own body. "It's even harder when you get where they're coming from. It always made me think I could fix him," she mused. Alana's eyes flitted down to Leon's hand on her knee and she blinked, warmth shooting up her neck. "God, yeah," she agreed, "I'm in this program now for Clinical Psych and I swear it's like paying to fight your demons. Everyone is so fucking self aware I want to vomit." It was a good problem to have, certainly, but Alana's PhD cohort knew way more about her than she ever would've wanted. "Hey, I'm proud of you, though. It sounds like you're doing really well."

[adriansinclair]

Her toddler voice earned her the slowest, laziest blink he had in his arsenal. "Wow," he deadpanned. "Do that voice again and I’m calling mall security. Or animal control. Whichever responds first."

The whale comment actually made him laugh. A real laugh, short and surprised. "Tracking whales? Please. I don’t have the patience. If I’m tracking anything, it’s the people who walk into town thinking they’re mysterious only to announce their entire backstory through interpretive dance."

She hit him with that wordplay and his brows lifted. "Lose out?" he asked, stepping closer. "No. I’m usually pretty damn good at getting what I want." He didn’t give her time to unpack that, didn’t let it settle long enough to turn the conversation into something she could run from. Instead, he brushed past, matching her pace as she marched ahead like she wasn’t flustered. "Three Lucerna sellouts?" he scoffed lightly. "You’d be lucky if half the audience didn’t show up just to watch you argue with me onstage."

She stopped at the door, giving him that look. Adrian sighed dramatically, shifting her stack of books in one hand and reaching past her to pull the door open with the other. "There," he murmured, holding it wide. "Your knight, at your service. But don’t get used to it. Chivalry’s a limited time offer." He nodded toward the entrance with a lopsided, taunting grin. "After you, Broadway."

[alanacohen]

"It's sweet that you think a girl who can cry on command would be afraid of Paul Blart." She looked at him for a long moment, concentrating until her eyes began welling with tears. "I'm sorry, officer, I don't know what he's talking about. All I wanted was to sell my books!" Alana wailed before she wrapped it up, swiping at her eyes with her free hand. Before she could so much as take a bow for her Oscar-worthy performance, Alana's eyes were bright and her smile taunting. "So you admit you were tracking me," she accused.

Alana stopped short, frustrated by Adrian's seemingly unwavering commitment to toying with her, then filling up the space before she could respond. An argument was only fun when your interlocutor respected the general laws of conversation. "And what is it you want, exactly?" She rolled her eyes at the idea of people paying to hear their back-and-forth. "I think you're underestimating how many people in this town have divorced parents. Why buy the cow, Adrian."

Despite her annoyance, Alana stepped through the door he held open, brushing past him closer than strictly necessary. If nothing else would give her a clue about Adrian's intentions, maybe proximity would. "I would never expect consistency from a man, Sinclair-- or from you, for that matter," she flashed a smile, dropping her stack of books on the counter without a second thought.

[leylademirci]

She shot her a look. The flat, unimpressed kind she reserved exclusively for people she actually liked. "Dropping it? No." She pushed open the shop door with her shoulder, bells chiming softly as the warm smell of old paper wrapped around them. "I’m… pausing it. There’s a difference." She didn’t elaborate, because she didn’t have to. Alana already knew the rhythm of Leyla’s overthinking well enough to spot when she’d hit one of her spirals.

Inside, Leyla crossed to the counter, grabbing one of the sturdier donation boxes and setting it down with a decisive thump. Only then did she glance back at Alana, one brow lifting in a mirror of the expression she herself had just received. "And yes," she replied dryly, "I’m aware calling it ‘human behavior’ makes me sound like an undercover lizard person studying your species. Thanks for that." The corner of her mouth tugged upward with the faintest, warmest smirk. "But if I were secretly non-human," she added, tone low as she handed Alana the good box, "you’d be the first person I’d tell. Now," she said, tilting her head toward the door where the book carnage waited, "let’s rescue the rest of your library before it becomes sidewalk art."

[alanacohen]

Alana groaned at Leyla's unwillingness to complete drop the renovation idea. Though, she supposed the woman's stubbornness was part of what drew Alana to her. Birds of a feather flock together, and that. "And is the pause, perhaps, on the way to a full stop?" she prodded, eyebrows raised hopefully. Alana placed the books in her arms carefully onto the counter, pausing to greet the cashier and hand over her information for the sale.

She burst into laughter, bringing a hand up to her mouth to stifle her giggles, "Sorry, it's just--" she laughed again, "Your species? Jesus, Leyla, I think you missed your calling as an actress. Talk about committing to the bit." Alana reached out and caught Leyla's arm, sincerity schooling all but the teasing gleam in her eye, "That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me." She nodded, grabbing a box and leading Leyla back outside, not before tacking on, "But I'd still probably turn you in. Can't be safe to have lizard people walking among us, right?"

[levigoldstein]

Having no plans while having a day off was a struggle for Levi, he was always in a state of movement, needing to go, do, and he was pretty sure that was from his long-standing ADHD. Agendas had become his best friend when it came to those days off to keep him on track or else he'd run a million places and never get accomplished what he needed to, or worse, he'd end up in bed rotting while scrolling endlessly through the obnoxious amounts of digital media and streaming sites at his fingertips. There had been no plans for the Book Nook in his agenda but the sound of a box snapping and suddenly the street covered in used books jarred him from the direction of his journey when he spotted Alana. "Not the "My Name is Barbra" do you know how many hearts in our family you're going to break?" Unable to resist the teasing sentiment as he handed the book towards the woman. "What are you doing, trying to sell all your book collection to rob the Book Nook clean?"

[alanacohen]

"More than I broke coming home from college without a man on my arm?" she teased, flattening the offending box under her foot and making a mental note to come back and dispose of it properly. She threw hear head back, putting on her best nasally voice to mimic her aunties, "'Oh, Alana, New York City is the most densely populated city in the nation and you didn't find one nice boy to bring home?'" She smiled gratefully at Levi, beginning to stack a few of the fallen books in her arms with his help. "Exactly, and the robbery was going so poorly until my favorite cousin showed up," she chuckled. Flattery'll get you lots of places, she figured! "Any big plans today?"

[ladiesofcinema]

MOLLY GORDON via Instagram

[sebasticnsteele]

With a free afternoon to himself, Sebastian made the sporadic decision to drop into The Book Nook to browse the selection. It was the type of place where you never knew what kind of treasures you'd come across, since their collection was rapidly changing with each donation. He managed to find a few thrillers that found interesting, plus a book filled with Shakespeare's most popular works. As he was exiting, he spotted a familiar face moments before disaster struck. "Shit, let me help," Sebastian sprung forward and began neatly piling up the scattered array of literature. "Definitely not committing a war crime, don't worry. I love me some Barbra but this one one hefty book. The fact that there's that many of them in one box is clearly the reason why it broke on you," he teased with a light chuckle.

[alanacohen]

When she recognized who was swooping in to rescue her, Alana's smile notched up several levels. "Bash! My hero!" she gushed, greeting her old friend eagerly. Alana and Sebastian were most certainly cut from the same cloth, and after being co-stars on a number of shows, they were basically family, if you asked Alana. "It's insane, like, she literally contains multitudes, don't you think?" she joked, picking up another two copies of Barba's life story. "Right? And sure, maybe I should've just packed two boxes. Sue me for being optimistic, I guess," she huffed, standing with a new stack of books in her arms. "I guess the universe knew you'd be nearby."

[adriansinclair]

"Alana Cohen," he repeated, slow and theatrical, like he was testing the Bloody Mary theory anyway. "There. Said it once. Want me to try for two?"

He didn’t bother hiding the way his eyes dragged over her expression, cataloguing every flicker of annoyance the way a man like him would: for ammunition. "And thank you for recognizing my superior pattern recognition skills. Some of us weren’t busy headlining fictional broadway debuts in high school."

Her jab about him tracking her made something flash across his face. Something amused, something sharp. "Oh please," he scoffed. "Trust me, Cohen, I’ve got better things to track than your great migration across the continental U.S., though the dramatics do make you hard to miss. It’s like following a paper trail of jazz hands."

He shifted the books in his hands easily, watching her struggle just enough to satisfy him before returning to the argument he very much enjoyed. "So you were right," he echoed, mocking her tone. "Congratulations. Frame it. Tell your therapist. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled."

But then she said that, and something in him tightened. Quick, subtle, not intended for her to see. His grin tilted as he leaned in, lowering his voice like they were sharing a secret neither of them would admit mattered. "Intimidated? No. Distracted?" His gaze flicked deliberately, unapologetically. "Absolutely." He straightened, stepping back with that annoying casual grace he’d perfected back when he was a teenager. "So if you’re trying to flip this on me," he said, lifting the stack of books he’d stolen from her arms, "nice try."

He started walking toward The Book Nook’s entrance with her books in his arms and a look that dared her to follow. "Come on, Cohen," he called over his shoulder. "You can keep pretending you don’t want the help, or you can admit you’re one wrong move away from dropping Barbra all over Main Street again."

[alanacohen]

"Try for three," she challenged, looking Adrian up and down as if checking to see if he could match her energy. She wasn't sure what she'd do if he followed through, but Alana had taken enough improv classes to come up with something on the fly-- and there was something undeniably theatrical about this whole exchange, like she and Adrian were locked in a scene together. "Oh, yeah, you're welcome-- do you do exercises for that? Like, Sudoku? I bet you're really good at it, buddy," she laid it on thick, using a tone she'd usually reserve for toddlers.

Alana scoffed, narrowing her eyes and hating him even more for the fact that 'a paper trail of jazz hands' was actually kind of funny. "Better things to track... you know, you do seem like one of those guys who would, like, follow humpback whale activity or something." Sad and lonely, she figured, because why else would Adrian be standing here arguing with her instead of literally anything else? (Nevermind the fact that she was also entertaining it. Chalk it up to love of the game!)

"I might frame it, actually, I think it would look really great on the mantle," Alana mused, eyes to the sky until Adrian stepped closer and disrupted her concentration. She blinked, brow furrowed and breath stuck in her throat as she struggled to adjust to the new tone of their scene. The teeming undercurrent that wasn't so subtle anymore. It was like he released her when he stepped away, broke the spell, and Alana was annoyed again that it'd been so effective.

"Do you make it a habit to get so distracted you lose out on a good thing?" she raised an eyebrow, letting the double entendre hang in the air for a beat. Alana wasn't entirely buying that Adrian's self-diagnosed distraction was anything but another way to get under her skin. "Maybe your pattern recognition isn't so great after all. You know how many Cohens there are in this town? I would've sold out The Lucerna three times over."

The finality of Adrian's tone was convincing, though, so Alana marched past him with her overflowing stack. She stopped short in front of the door, casting an expectant glance over her shoulder, tone dripping with sarcasm as she asked, "And is my chivalrous knight going to get the door, or what?"