Frankie Markham (_markham) wrote in 20somethings, @ 2022-01-25 23:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | c: frank markham, c: roxanne weasley, d: 2028 01, Ω: rp |
RP: Softly stressed about interviews
Who: Frankie, Roxanne
What: A run in, some chatting
When: 25th Jan, 2028
Where: McClaggan's
Warnings: TBC
Completion Status: Ongoing
The news that they had a job interview for one of the positions they had applied for (unfortunately not the Department of Mysteries one yet) was both a joy and a moment to induce a level of panic. Suddenly they realised that while they had done a certain amount of updating their clothes thanks to Molly's help over the past year they hadn't really bought new shoes and their everyday office pair were looking worn around the edges. And all the other pairs they sometimes wore for work were really not interview suitable. So they had spent their time since leaving work at 5pm looking for new shoes. More importantly new shoes that fit their aesthetic and didn't make them feel wildly uncomfortable in their gender identity.
This was their second day of shop trawling and they had finally found a decent pair, but now they were both massively over dealing with people and really didn't want to go home. They were wandering listlessly up and down Diagon Alley and Victory Road. Sometimes calling in to shops and looking around before deciding not to buy anything, stubbornly avoiding buying far too much fudge cake in Sweet Nothings, poking at several really beautiful things in The Creative Collection that they absolutely didn't have the money for now they had new shoes.
After a while they just stopped in the middle of Victory Road, mindless of the non-zero number of people around, and put their head down and gave a loud groan-yell of frustration at themself. Then looked up, saw someone looking at them and immediately felt the blush starting to stain their cheeks.
"Oh, Circe. That, um, was not a good look," they muttered and picked up the handle of the bag they had dropped and darted into the nearest shop to run away from their own mortification. They moved immediately a long way from the window and tried to hide behind several rails of clothing.