Panic. That was definitely one word to describe what Jessica was feeling right now. She didn't do social situations and generally avoided them like the plague, but Serena had asked and she'd found it hard to say 'no'. So there she stood outside The Crashdown Cafe taking a few minutes to collect herself, counting her breaths and trying to calm down. While Serena had dressed up for the evening, Jessica had opted for her usual attire. Boots, jeans (ripped at the knees), a black scoop-neck tee and her favorite leather jacket. Although despite the fact that these were clothes that she wore practically every day, one could see the care that she took with them; with her whole appearance, really. Her clothes were freshly laundered, her hair clean and silky - she even had a hint of makeup on and Jessica Jones wasn't a makeup kind of woman.
She'd hidden a hip flask in the inner breast pocket of her jacket and caught her reflection in the cafe window as she reached for it. "Pull yourself together, Jones," she muttered, sliding it back in place. Realizing that she couldn't stay out there forever, she walked over to the cafe entrance and helped herself inside. "Sorry I'm late", she said by way of introduction, eyes roaming over the strangers faces before settling on Serena and whatever tension she still felt escaped her in that moment and she exhaled. "Traffic was a bitch," she said dryly.