[Jules was never extraordinarily graceful, but when she was flustered the young woman was downright clumsy. Her purple duffle bag kept sliding down off of her shoulder when she would adjust her over-filled black backpack. Stuffed with all the nonsense that Jules felt was important to have at the beach, the small bags were at critical mass. She had a bathing suit and a towel, a change of clothes, her iPod, and tequila. Lots of tequila. The rest was filled with snacks and deflated floaty whales. Important things. Most important was she had nothing with her that reminded her of Ezra.
She had just walked away from her best friend and tag team partner. It was fun to call him her husband, but that's all it was. Fun. A story. A big, fat lie. When it boiled down to the bare bones, they were nothing more than business partners. Businesses dissolved all the time. CEOs didn't care what happened to their COOs outside of the office. They just went on with their lives. That's what Jules was going to do. She was going to let Ezra do what he needed to be famous, and she would go run away to the beach instead of facing her problems like an adult. Maturity is over-rated, anyway. Tequila makes for the best therapist.
A blue and purple tornado spun into the lobby of the hotel, giving the Tazmanian Devil a run for his money. Jules was fighting the straps of her bags, stretching and yanking them over her shoulders, but the weight of the alcohol kept throwing her balance off. Her normally bright cobalt hair had faded to teal, the dark brown roots peeking through under it all. It was almost time for her to hit up the salon. Maybe another week or two. Then again, maybe she would let it go natural. Then people wouldn't laugh at her weird hair. Isn't that what Ezra had said? Hrmph.
When she finally was able to get the bags under control, that was when she noticed the other person there] Woah! That's a sweet green! Is that manic panic or vivid? [See Ezra? She wasn't the only one with awesome hair. Jules had on a purple sequin tanktop with a weird geometrical symbol in white on the front, paired with jean cutoff shorts and knee high boots that had a glittery American flag motif. Not the best for traipsing through the sand, but they were her practice boots and she hadn't removed them after practice.] Please tell me you're here to go to the beach. [Jules' eyes darted towards Kitane's suitcase and she raised one eyebrow comically high.] And please tell me you've packed some hunky cabana boy in there.