Re: Capital: Jamie & Seven Friday night
Jamie knew the why. Like, the car and the suit he could see the margins of through the rolled-down window. He didn't need to see all the way in to know it was probably a thousand dollars in a magazine spread somewhere and he knew why because he'd known for like, months. It was the mattress on the floor and the building-work somewhere without ropes and he knew it without having to reach for the memory. It clung like old cigarette smoke on a back-porch. His heart-rate ticked like an overclocked engine, but he watched Seven's face framed in the darkness of the car-interior, and observed, while also like, insanely aware of noticing. There was the other stuff he knew without having to reach for: the fact that the guy's smile was easy, loose like an untied ribbon rather than angled and a refraction of all the shit in the rearview.
The literal rearview, Jamie eyed. "Probably the second time in my life some guy has crawled the curb and asked me to stop, to be honest," he said, glib. Way more glib than he felt as his blood rushed back from his brain to his hands which had started to numb, his fingers clammy-cold against his palm. But like, Seven's good mood swayed way heavy in the opposite direction to Jamie's like, legit fear on the street he was going to get some form of like, hurt. He hitched his bag higher on his shoulder, the one away from the car, and shrugged, which totally negated the bag-hitching.
"Streetwalking, it's my new main gig," he said, deadpan in the face of Seven's glinting mirth. The guy looked way relaxed for still wearing a suit, and it was weird, kinda, how different the man looked in context rather than out of. The suit, the car, they were probably way more context than naked and knee-deep in carpet. Jamie relented. It was like, a bodily thing, his shoulders unclenched from his ears, and the last of the knee-jerk reaction dribbled out of his spine.
"I was in class. And then I was in a bar." He could still taste the Coke, sweet rimed on his back teeth, and the vodka buzz faint under the clean, pure feeling of aching like hell from a two hour class. The vodka went AMAZING with ibuprofen. "I was gonna wait around, for some guys from one of my classes." But Jamie hesitated, like even saying it, indecision hovered. "You're in a good mood." Like, deliberate, shifted focus. "New car?" Jamie couldn't fucking tell the difference.