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 Bea walked into the Toadstool, her bag slung over her shoulder as she pushed open the door. She looked over to the cute employee that always sat at the counter studying, a smile tugged at her lips. “Bonjour, chéri.” She called out in her thick french accent. ”While I do enjoy Tolstoy, though I was hoping you would be able to help me with something else.” She asked, a brow arching inquisitively.

 She pulled a book out of her bag and placed it on the counter. “What is your recommendation for someone who has finished this?” She asked. The book she was referencing was The Feminine Mystique. She leaned forward against the counter. 

Rowan was working the counter at The Toadstool, looking busy whenever her boss was near her, but taking out her textbook and notes whenever there weren’t eyes on her. She found work, while partially necessary, to be tedious and if it weren’t for the money aspect, it would be completely boring. She could be using this time to keep her mind sharp, to work on practice tests, but no, here she was, bored out of her mind. 

She was looking down when someone familiar entered, the bell on the door jingling as they did. She looked up and smiled; finally a break in the dullness. “What are you doing here?” Rowan asked with a smile. “Looking for a copy of Tolstoy to help get you through the week?” she joked, though she didn’t know if it really came off as a good one. She never considered herself to be a really funny person.

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Bea sat at the park, people watching per usual. She used to come here with her mom, she was told it was the park bench that her mother would share with her father when they lived in Kingsboro. Bea made it a tradition to visit that bench every Sunday. This morning she came by earlier than usual, reason being that it was on the way home from her most recent one night stand. Bea looked up to the woman standing next to her, her eyes tearing away from the cute girl playing frisbee. She wished she was athletic, she would love to be in great shape. Bea was thin and toned because of Yoga, but she hated cardio and couldn’t keep up with others when they would go out for a run. “Oui, of course.” She said with a smile. “I do that much too often.” Bea laughed. “Please, join me.” She pulled her purse from the seat next to her. 

Lucky checked her watch as she finished her daily run and stepped off the main path and finish her cooling off period, a few stretches later and she was feeling much more exhausted than she wanted to. She supposed that was her own fault, she’d been putting off getting back to her morning runs in the weeks since Flynn and gotten back to school after the winter holiday, and now she was out of shape, something she needed to change if she was to get back to auditioning for shows, and dancing more often. Still, she was determined to keep the pep in her step and even as she ached from the run, she decided to take a quick break on a park bench before she worked up the energy and motivation to make the run back to her apartment. “Is this spot taken?” She questioned, smiling and sitting at the other end of the bench, “I think I might have overestimated how athletic I am.” She teased, lifting her water bottle to her lips and taking a long sip.

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Bea sat in the cafe, sipping on her coffee as her eyes scanned the page. She was working on her next article for Vogue even though it wasn’t due for another week. She didn’t care if she finished early, she prefered having it done with in case she was able to pick up an additional article. Bea’s thoughts were interrupted by the woman speaking to her. She took another sip as she listened, her eyes looking up to the woman. “An author, hm?” She asked. It was if everyone in that coffee shop was a writer of some sort. “Well, what does the character lack in their life that a romantic partner could help with? OR-” She said excitedly. “- maybe she has life figured out and so she wants someone who’s also independent and has their own life but will make time for her and treat her right?” She asked. “No, maybe that’s not interesting enough, sorry.” Bea chuckled. She closed the laptop in front of her and stacked the couple of books she brought with her on top.

~open starter~

Eloise tapped her pen against her lip. She wasn’t using the pen; she was using her computer to work on her manuscript, but the pen was an anxious habit she had. The coffee shop she was sitting in was buzzing around her, which would usually get her juices flowing. Today, however, juices were not flowing. She couldn’t figure out what got her into this funk she was in. She had deadlines approaching and so far had nothing to deliver. She turned around to the person sitting at the table behind her. “Hi, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I’m trying to work and I need your help. I’m an author and can’t figure out my next scene. So picture this, you get to make one wish to create your dream romantic partner. What is it?” She bit lightly on the end of the pen, nervously awaiting their reply, while also mentally slapping herself for being so awkward. 

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allisterjacksonn​:

Allister didn’t know a single thing about French, so of course his face shifted a bit when she went to that part, but he was quickly back on track when she shifted to the real issue of her demeanor. He knew enough about Bea to know what she did for a living - a writer, and for Vogue at that. He knew it was a pretty big deal, even if he didn’t know a whole lot about the magazine himself. He had no reason to. “Well, that doesn’t sound fair. Did they give you a reason, or just take it away with no sort of explanation?” He tilted his head, looking as concerned as he could muster because he really did want to be a good friend.

“I like to think they didn’t have a real reason, but there’s this other writer that they’ve been eyeing for a Junior Editor position and I think they wanted to see what he could do.” Bea huffed. She picked at the edges of the fee pages she had printed earlier to turn in, not really needing the article now. At the time, Bea didn’t want to throw it away - but that was just out of spite. She placed her empty glass on top of the packet. The condensation dripped from the glass and smudged the words on the page. “Enough about me, how has your night been?” Bea asked, tilting her head. “Has anyone given you a hard time yet? - or thier number?” She asked, lifting a brow.

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@MIS.THEMES via @WeHeartIt

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Bea leaned forward, her elbow resting on the counter as she tucked her hands under her chin. She usually had a resting bitch face, but recently her face has been like a billboard for her emotions. “I- ah, just this thing that happened at work. Ca n'a pas d'importance.” She waved it off. “I’m not getting paid to pout about work when I’m off the clock.” She said. “Why even ask me to cover a topic that I think is important and then just take it away from me and give it to someone else?” She ranted. The Vogue writer rolled her eyes before sipping the last of her whiskey.

“Hey, I may not be the best at advice, but I am a bartender. I can’t say I’m not used to being on the other side of venting.” Allister muttered to the person sitting on the other side of the bar top, his blue eyes set, and as understanding on his company as he could manage. He really wasn’t the type to get overly emotional, but he’d come around to being more understanding. It was hard to get away from the whole therapist vibe after being a bartender all these years. “Seriously, what’s botherin’ you? I promise to be as objective as possible.”

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claudiafernandez96​:

Claudia smiled down at Noel who was giving her the cutest fucking face that screamed ‘PET ME. PET ME’. So, of course, Claudia did. The artist clearly had a hard time saying no to certain individuals.  It did make her feel a little bit better to know that it was perfectly normal to have strong feelings for more than one person. The thing with this was that the lines between love and hate were so blurred, that she had a really hard time making out how she was actually feeling. “I just…I hate them so fucking much. I feel like I’m just there whenever they get bored.” She sighed. “Joke’s on me though because I fall for it every fucking time.” She couldn’t say no to Jude, and she wasn’t sure if she could say no to Cillian either. There was no doubt in her mind that whatever was happening between them was toxic as fuck, but she also had no clue how she was going to get out of it. That is, even if she wanted to get out of it.  

Noel perked up at the attention and wiggled out of Bea’s lap. He practically hopped over to Claudia and begged for more pets. Bea smiled and pulled the blankets up to her chin, leaning back into the couch. “Do you ever feel like the three of you could make a throuple work? I know a lot of people shy away from the idea, but it really works for some people if there’s enough communication.” Bea offered. “If you hate them enough, and if it hurts enough you might want to think about taking some time apart from them to see how you do - and hey, maybe they’ll see what they’re missing?” She said. Bea was the worst when it came to relationship advice. She had been in horrible relationships and never fully figured out how to have a healthy one. 

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kim johansson

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LUCY HALE InStyle Magazine, March 2020

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