Scarlett missed this part of town. It had been her first home, and part of her had probably thought she would end up staying there for the rest of her life— some people would say it was good she didn’t, and on most days, she was some people, but on this particular day, nostalgia was thick and she couldn’t help wonder what her life would’ve been like if her mom had never dragged her off to Los Angeles when she was a kid, and thrown her at the wolves. She passed a rundown building she remembered well, and thought maybe she would’ve been living in that one right now, or maybe the next one, or maybe she would have even made it to college and graduated, and could’ve lived in a small place in Westbrook? Maybe, maybe, maybe. When someone suddenly tugged at the jacket casually thrown over her shoulders, Scarlett turned around and saw a familiar face. She couldn’t remember from where she knew her, or even her name or what it started with, but she had definitely seen her before. “Well, we’re in North End, right? It’s hard to find someone right now who doesn’t think you would take the clothes off of someone’s back,” she said, humour dry, but the jest in her voice clear. “Yeah, this is the way to Podium, more or less. You’ve got another five, maybe seven minute walk this way.” She pointed down the street they were currently on before she turned back and scanned the blonde, lacking the subtlety of someone who wanted to do it without making the subject squirm. “I think you would do just fine as a stripper, and as for flexibility… that shit can be taught. Take it from an actual dancer,” she said and smirked, holding the blonde’s gaze for a couple of seconds before she gave in to curiosity. “Where do I know you from?”
What a relief, her hand wasn’t smacked away, she didn’t get an eyeroll or some snarky kind of response. Not that she was expecting that all together but at this point and the amount of characters she’d met in this town she wasn’t all sure what to expect. Following the other blonde’s eye line towards the direction she wanted to go, she easily returned the pleasantry in a chuckle at the others jab at where it was they were in the moment. Almost instantly she could feel too, her own cheeks redden and an awkward thick swallow with an attempt to mask through a half smile, a hopefully seemingly lighthearted laugh escaped as she took in the other’s comment.
She’d heard that kind of stuff sure, of course just, where she usually had the liquid courage or some other kind of courage to take it in and retort, out on the streets, sober, and instantly she felt like the most pathetic person in the world. Can’t even take a compliment. And then the compliment was sidetracked into another form of mortification that of course—of course, she ran into an actual stripper. “Oh, oh no, no, I mean, I didn’t mean it wasn’t like, hard. Really, really hard. You’re—” she stalled, looking up and down too now at the other with intention of returning the compliment and saving herself from saying anything even more stupid, “You’re—” and almost as soon as she was able to say something the other was onto the next. Looking at her strange, she almost reached to check if she had something her teeth instead, eyes narrowed slightly. She didn’t know her did she? Not very likely but then wasn’t it random moments like this that sparked a recollection? Just the way the light hit and her eyes sparked greener than green that embarrassment she felt before was rolling full steam underneath. She remembered the eyes most, then the hand hold that felt like safety and an old friend and the rest was a blur... “Uh...vacay in San Diego recently?” She joked, connecting the blurry dots, god, all she hoped was that she didn’t say something totally insane. “Or, that creepy rose Valentine’s free-for-all?”
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