𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕, 𝒋𝒐𝒋𝒐.
& . : `◞ 𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁 | PRESENT TIME .
jojo was at the bar with a few drinks scattered in front of her . she’d only taken a few sips from them out of KINDNESS for the people who had brought them to her . she was far more occupied with the snacks . jojo had successfully DISMANTLED an expensive charcuterie board , only managing TO STEAL the chocolate covered pretzels and dried fruits . while munching on her treats , jojo shared stories — some false some true about her life AFTER rvu . they were either watered down versions of her ESCPADES or stolen stories from a morning drama she watched while in korea . although she was LIVELY with her actions she kept herself on thin ice — careful not to EXPOSE any inkling of her status as a crime boss . beside her she noticed a quieter companion and while she RESPECTED people’s choice to be distant . she couldn’t simply allow people possibly feeling LEFT OUT . so she turned towards them and offered them a smile , ❝ hey you , ❞ she started while turning her figure towards them slightly . jojo placed a fist underneath her chin . ❝ do you not like me or something ? you’re being AWFULLY quiet . ❞
* 𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 his otherwise bleached expression, lulling kieran from his stupor over the rim of his old - fashioned occupied not by rum or any of its derivatives, but water. fancy that. then, fancy him not even being able to stomach even that. kieran glances, askance, at the strait of appetisers and tidbits, and decides against his better inclinations. he’ll nurture an appetite soon enough, he thinks. besides, it seems almost dastardly of him to want to encroach upon jojo’s engagement with her pretzels and dried fruits ; for all her enthusiasm, it’s enough to split between them both. she is as they’ve left off : a node or two ( or five, he posits to himself, as the anecdotes persist the raconteur is unfailingly buoyant, and not one of her audience has become a stitch impervious to each detail purveyed ) more gregarious, sure, but her ministrations and vernacular are not without the kiss of pride, of dignity, such as he knew her to carry, even before they’d gone their lone ways. ❛ if that were true, jojo, i’d have taken my leave aeons ago. ❜ mirroring her stance, he keens into the interaction. ❛ you know, i’d come into this shtick thinking i’d moon my way through, pain myself with the ire of those i’d managed to incur back in the tens, make myself scarce before the stroganoff and caesar’s wheeled out along with a surprise addressal by our principal, bless him. and then there’s these people you, now that i can’t seem to leave behind, because god knows when we’ll see each other again ? it’s strange, isn’t it ? ❜

















