02
SCOTT GIVES OFF the vibe of carelessness. While that isn't the case most of the time, it still kind of is, especially since he sits behind the counter, texting his friends, and not actually tending to the flowers. In fact, Scott's doing that exact thing as Camille and her mother enter the florist shop, Sweet Stems, for the second time that week. He barely acknowledges them, too busy scanning the influx of messages he's getting. See? Careless.
However, Scott's still aware of the two ladies and how they're marveling the place, especially since it somehow looks more majestic than ever. Scott's mom says that it's because the place is magical; he says it's only the natural light pouring in, making the shop look brighter. They both agree that a place on a New York street corner is something a person can't help but like.
Except, there are the times when Scott's outer appearance turns them away. That's already established with the messy dark brown hair, the imposing green eyes, the evil glint of his lip piercing. His exposed arms, revealed by his Ramones shirt rolled up to the elbow, are characterized by the number of scattered tattoos. Nobody seems to doubt he has more, which is true nevertheless.
He then glances at Camille, observing how much of a princess she looks compared to him.
Her reddish-brown hair falls barely above her shoulders in messy waves. Camille's makeup looks simple, even when it makes her admittedly beautiful enough for some elegant party. It also makes her hazel eyes more noticeable, Scott notes. She's only wearing a plain gray dress with a plaid shirt thrown over it and a pair of Converses on her feet. There's just nothing princess-y about that.
He looks down again when he sees her splitting away from her mother and walking over to him. Camille folds her dainty hands on the counter and says, "Hi."
Scott looks at her, pretending that he didn't spend the last few seconds doing just that. He slathers on a bored expression because he shouldn't be excited to see a person he barely knows and lets out a gruff, "Hey."
That doesn't turn her away, however. She's so fucking different, and Scott likes that.
"So," Camille casually says, "how's the florist business been since Wednesday?"
"Absolute hell," Scott replies before remembering the numerous text messages he got before Camille came over, "I'm actually gonna go on break right now."
She momentarily pauses, and he slightly feels bad for putting her aside when she clearly came to talk to him. That doesn't stop her, however, when she asks, "Mind if I come?"
There's no hesitation when he shrugs and picks up his black lanyard, swinging it on his ring-clad fingers and making sure not to hit Camille. They both walk towards the two older women, naturally, as if they've been doing this for many lifetimes. It's stupid, and this isn't some romantic fantasy.
"Ms. West," Scott greets with a nod of his head, not allowing any room for her to say anything back. It's rude, but the quicker they leave, the longer his break lasts, "Mom, I'm gonna go on break, if that's fine. Can Camille come with me?"
He's also very straightforward.
"Well, why don't you introduce this Camille to me and ask her mother for permission instead?" Scott's mom says with a roll of her green eyes, much similar to his.
He sighs but does it anyway, not wanting to against his mother. Ever.
"Mom, this is Camille. Camille, this is my mom, Meredith," he says, allowing the two of them to chat as he addresses Pamela, "and Ms. West, hi again, how are you?"
"I'm doing well, Scott," she answers, a tiny smile blossoming on her pink-colored lips, "and you?"
"I'm holding up," Scott replies, "Anyway, is it okay if Camille comes to the tattoo parlor with me?"
Pamela raises her eyebrows in surprise, but Meredith just laughs, "Pam, it's okay. Everyone at the parlor are just sweethearts."
"Okay," she sighs before directing her words to her daughter, "You better not come back with any tattoos."
Scott holds back a scoff.
"Thanks," he says with a slight smile to be polite before turning on the heels of his combat boots, "C'mon, Camille."
When he looks back, he sees her waving at the two ladies before catching up to him. Then, together, the two of them exit Sweet Stems and enter the streets of New York. The streets are bustling with people, as usual. Most of them walk right by the two without any care, but a few of them greet Scott with an easy smile.
"Is it far?" Camille asks, flattening her dress against the wind.
"Nope," Scott replies, "It's walking distance."
"Are you gonna get another tattoo?"
"Nope," he repeats, "I'm just gonna hang out with friends. Oh, by the way, I should warn you about them."
"Or you could warn them about me," she wittingly shoots back, "I'm a handful."
He lets out a laugh, which accidentally slips out, "Of course."
"So," Camille says, "What do I need to be warned about?"
"Well, Pepper is a proud lesbian, so don't be surprised if she hits on you. Max gets really passionate about food and is super flirty with everyone," Scott exasperatedly says, remembering his first meeting with the Hispanic boy, "Diana is quiet, but once you get to know her, she's chaotic. Harvey is, well, Harvey. He's a complete joker and can't take things seriously."
He has no idea why he said so many words at the same time. He's actually kind of nervous for this princess of a girl to meet his friends who tattoo people for fun and throw jabs that are sometimes offensive and come off too strongly. That's how Scott likes them. They're open and don't hold back. He isn't sure how Camille will react to them, but Scott hopes they don't scare her off.
"Sounds like great friends," Camille comments as they cross the road.
"They are," he agrees, dodging the everlasting string of walking people, "So, uh, tell me something about your friends?"
What even.
Camille tucks her hair behind her ear, but it just comes loose, which Scott doesn't mean to notice, "Well, there's Zee, who has this scary intelligence around her, and she's snarky and feisty. Asma is a person who claims that she hates everyone, but she's honestly a sweetheart, and she's very faith-conscious."
"Cool," Scott says, not really sure what to say in response. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling his cold rings against his warm skin, "Oh, look. We're here."
"Should I be nervous?" Camille asks, observing the parlor with great interest.
Scott shrugs indifferently, "I guess we'll find out."
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AHHH, OKAY. I LOVE WRITING SCOTT SO MUCH.
I WAS GONNA TRY ALTERNATING BETWEEN CAMILLE AND SCOTT, BUT SCOTT IS SO MUCH MORE INTRIGUING TO WRITE TBH.
I HOPE ALL OF YOU ENJOY THIS STORY AS MUCH AS I AM!
COMMENT YOUR THOUGHTS!
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--islandarc