22: Jade

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Jade just finished refilling her parrot's food when her phone rang. It was Gianni, Ria's manager, and he had a job offer for a few shows at New York Fashion Week. Jade accidentally spilled parrot feed all over the floor in her excitement and, after cleaning it, got dressed and drove straight to Solid Ground. It was pouring buckets outside and during the short trip from her car to the coffee shop, Jade would have been soaked to the bone if it wasn't for her trustworthy raincoat.

The bells softly jingled overhead as she came inside, adjusting to the cozy lighting. Her eyes found Danny on the far off corner of the polished bar counter.

"Welcome to the party," he said, voice bordering on gloomy cheeriness. He was drowning in a checkered scarf and holding a mug with both hands.

Jade hopped through the stools to get to him. "Danny, do you live here or something? Don't you have things to do?"

The coffee shop was almost empty, a result of the horrible weather and the end of the lunch rush hour.

"My work is not coming to me." Danny slumped in his seat. "I have no inspiration."

April walked over to them on the other side of the counter. "He hasn't seen his muse for a whole week."

"What muse?" Jade asked. "The Russian Lit girl who always comes here?"

Danny nodded miserably, staring into his mug like it contained the secrets of the universe. "I haven't seen her since last Thursday. What if she died?"

"Why would she die?" Jade rolled her eyes. "She just probably feels uncomfortable with you creepily staring at her every time she's here."

"I do not!" Danny defended. "I'm just..." His face scrunched up in frustration. "I can never draw her face right. I've drawn you guys before and all our other friends, and I got it right on the first try. But with her, no matter how much I try, I can't get it right. It's an insult to my pride as an artist."

"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night." Jade patted his bouncy curls.

April was a little more helpful because, strangely enough, she was quite invested in Danny's art and creative life. "Maybe it's because you don't know her? You know us so you know what our personalities are like and that's the one tiny part you need to add to make the drawing a whole. But with her, you don't have that."

Danny seemed to think about that for a bit. "That actually makes sense."

"So now you have an excuse to go talk to her," April said, wiping her hands on her black apron and walking over to the cash register to help a customer (some frazzled student) that just walked in.

"Except she's not here and I can't talk to her."

"You also forgot the fact that she'll probably run away the moment she learns you have notebooks filled solely with her face," Jade added, teasing.

Danny dropped his head on the polished wood of the counter with unnecessary drama. "Why does life hate artists so much?"

"I think it's just you." She poked him in the shoulder. "I'm an artist and life loves me."

"I don't consider makeup artists true artists."

"The job title literally has the word artist in it, stop being bitter." Jade leaned farther on the counter toward April, who just finished making the poor student's overly caffeinated drink. "Guess what, by the way? I'm booked for New York Fashion Week!"

April actually gave her a smile. "Congrats! You're in the big leagues now."

"Can you believe it?" Jade clapped her hands together excitedly. "I'm going to New York!"

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