Anna might be (elatedorgassy) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-02-25 12:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, anna of arendelle, mike lane |
Who: Anna of Arendelle and Magic Mike
When: January Sometime
Where: Arendelle Enterprises
What: Random Encounter
Rating/Warnings: Low/None
Status: Complete
School was insane. Anna was taking eight classes this spring, and was actually doing rather well. Now that she’d finished her math and science requirements, the majority of her classes were either in her major, or close enough. She was excelling, even though it was the beginning of the semester. While examining what she wanted to do with her life last fall, she’d been in to see the counselor and had discussed her options. Creative Writing was fun, and it brought her together with her Creative Writing professor, but it wasn’t something she wanted to do for the rest of her life. Not really. Journalism, though… that was an option. It was in her blood--her father had owned Arendelle Enterprises, and Elsa was now mostly in charge, though Anna herself owned quite a bit of stock in the company.
So she was there this morning, headed to the elevator, to go and see Elsa. She wanted to get an internship for her Journalism minor, and see if this was something she wanted to do. Anna was still young, she was still trying hats on to see what fit best. And she was okay with that. With a spring in her step and a song on her lips she headed across the lobby toward the elevator call button.
~*~
Custom orders were becoming more familiar to Mike. He was delivering a corner cabinet with multiple locks to an executive at Arendelle Enterprises. They'd wanted a piece which didn't look "office-like" which Mike had found reasonable enough. Who wanted to look at an ugly metal cabinet all day if they didn't have to? The man clearly had enough money to get what he wanted so it was no hardship for Mike to price it at an appropriate rate for the custom work as well as install.
He had it wrapped in shipping pads on a dolly as he was rolling it into the building.
Mike had learned to package his designs for any potential damage in transit from his truck to their final destinations.
People really didn't pay a lot of attention to workers.
Rolling over to the elevator bank, Mike was surprised to see Anna from the club waiting, he grinned, "Hey there. Good to see you again. You waiting on a delivery?"
~*~
Anna turned when she heard footsteps approaching in the lobby. She hadn’t been expecting to see Magic Mike again; a guy who made her blush deeply whenever she thought about the way he danced. It’d been a random encounter at the club the last time, the only time she’d ever met him, and now she was seeing him again just as randomly. Bizarre, right? But stranger things had happened in Orange County.
A bright smile crossed Anna’s lips as she made eye contact--there was a little tinge of pink on her cheeks, too. It was nice to see him, even if she was a little sheepish about it.
“Um, me? No…” Though Anna was well known at the company, she hadn’t been around in a while. The company Christmas party was the first time she’d been in the building in practically a year. Still, people remembered her. Even some of the delivery folk.
“What are you doing here?” ...as if it wasn’t obvious. Poor, oblivious Anna.
~*~
"I'm delivering a custom cabinet to a guy on the fourteenth floor. He wanted something with locks which didn't look like a metal death trap. I made him this."
Mike uncovered a portion of the face of the piece to show Anna. He didn't want to take the shipping pads off completely before he'd landed in the guy's office. It was a pain in the ass to try to repackage in a hallway or an elevator. The pads could be moved around enough to give an idea of the wood's grain, natural stain, and the hardware he'd used which blended seamlessly with the rest of the design.
It had taken him three days to do the cabinet justice with drying time. His client had seemed enthusiastic about the finished results even though Mike had only managed a cell phone shot to show to him before delivery day. Their schedules had never allowed them to meet up for the executive to see it before Mike brought it in. He'd never had a return on the day of delivery so he hoped this wouldn't be a first.
"He's only seen cell phone shots of it. I'm hoping he's not the first guy to send back something I've made," Mike started fixing the pads on the cabinet as the elevator dinged, "Which floor are you heading to?"
~*~
Anna leaned over to take a look inside the wrapping. She gave a little gasp, then leaned in even closer. “This is amazing! Wow.” The surprise and delight in her voice were genuine--as was most everything that came out of the young redhead. “I really like the smoothness of the wood, and the stain. It looks lovely. Such craftsmanship! You can tell that you put a lot of hours and love into this piece.” Anna turned a beaming face back over to him. “Oh, I know he’s gonna love it. How could he not?”
Just as the elevator bell chimed, Anna glanced up. “Top floor.” She stepped through the doors and held them open so he could get the cabinet inside. “And you’re going to fourteen?”
The buttons with the numbered floors were on his side of the elevator, so Anna waited while he pressed them. Luckily, they were alone in the elevator--no one else came jogging over to join them in the car. Maybe because there was a giant cabinet in there with the pair of them, though there was still plenty of room. Metal doors closed, leaving the two on their own.
“Is this… something you do a lot?” Anna asked, making conversation. She felt a little shy and awkward. It was silly, but she did. “Make furniture for offices and stuff?
~*~
"Make furniture, yes," Mike chuckled, "For offices? Not really that often. I do furnishing art. Most people are interested in my work for their personal homes for a chance to show off their style or to have a custom centerpiece for a room. It's become vogue to have a talking point or a focus piece in every public room of a house."
Mike knew nothing about that kind of life from personal experience. He'd never grown up in the kind of house or environment where entertaining was about how their home's 'atmosphere' came across. Their neighbors came over when someone died to offer condolences. He knew his mother had usually hosted some kind of sales party -Tupperware, Avon, some jewelry or another- once a year. There hadn't been men coming over to the house to visit his father. The only visitors his old man had gotten had been in the garage.
No one wanted to deal with his mother if they didn't have to which was likely why his father had spent so much time in the garage.
"I came out here for this. Learning how to make something functional which was also beautiful. My teacher is a craftsman whose work I honestly don't think I'll ever be able to compete against. I'm grateful he took the time out to teach me. I do a lot of found material pieces like wood from the beach or recycled metal from scrap yards. It's not about environmentalism so much as about seeing something which once had a purpose returned to that state."
He shrugged as he leaned against the side of the elevator.
"I don't suppose you have any interest in furniture? Or art? I like to think my work is both."
~*~
"That sounds really awesome!" Anna said. She thought she remembered something like that when they'd met on the dance floor the last time. Then again, she couldn't be sure. There had been drinks and dancing and craziness that night--it was right after she and Ezra had had that... falling out. Had she mentioned to Mike that she was studying art history? That she loved art--all kinds of art from modern pieces to ancient cave paintings? She couldn't remember.
"Isn't that the point of mentors, though?" Anna asked, a smile brightening her face and crinkling her nose. "They're supposed to make their achievements seem unreachable." Until one day, maybe it happens. Maybe. The mentee becomes the mentor, or whatever. Made sense to Anna.
"I'm actually studying Art History at UCI," her smile couldn't have been any brighter. "So, I've got a lot of interest in things that are particularly artsy." She leaned back against the wall of the elevator as they talked. "How long have you been in this line of work?"
~*~
Art History was the kind of thing Mike could appreciate. He thought one couldn't help except to learn from the past. Inspiration could be found anywhere for a new piece; that didn't mean he couldn't learn something from looking back to see what the masters had managed in their day. Mike would never be the greatest painter. He'd likely never be the greatest woodworker. All he was striving to be was the best he could be at putting his stamp on the world.
"Over six years, but around four seriously. I moved from Florida to come out here to pursue it as my passion. Tired of being a hype man, you know?"
Mike wondered what Anna wanted to do with her degree. She had to have options -plenty of them- given her family. It'd not really struck him until then she was wealthy. The rich always had more options than the poor. Following her dreams meant something entirely different than when Mike talked about it because she didn't have to worry about paying the bills with the fruits of her labors from her dream job.
"I've gotten some work into studios lately, onto a few movie sets, even into a few producers' homes. I show at the Open Artist Market every weekend and I'm setting up my own place soon. I hope. It'd be nice to have a permanent showroom."
~*~
"I... don't really know what that means, no," Anna confessed, breaking into a sheepish smile. She wasn't sure what being a hype man meant. "But it's amazing to get into studios! I love art, and I love going to galleries and the like! I'd love to go and take a look at your different pieces."
Anna wasn't the kind of girl who blew smoke. When she said she'd go--especially to somewhere like an art gallery or something--she would absolutely go. And she was friend with this Mike guy, right? They'd danced before, and he was friendly... they could be friends! Anna wanted to be friends.
The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. "Can I help you get this to where you're delivering it?"
~*~
"Hype is the kind of work where---I was supposed to get people to want to be me. Go where I went. Be where I was hanging. Party at parties I was crashing. Drink where I was drinking. That kind of thing. It was a lot like being the Pied Piper except it paid better. It also got old. Fast."
Innocence was something Mike couldn't remember having. He knew it had to have been something he had possessed once upon a time. That time had simply come and gone too long before to be of any use to him. All his recent memories were of trying to get his business off the ground and dancing to forget his failures.
Anna was a fun dance partner. He wouldn't mind trying it with her again to see her smile.
Grinning, Mike started wheeling the cabinet out, "Sure. Come on with me. We'll set it up. Just don't expect me to pay you in anything other than another dance. I can't afford an assistant on what I make in the independent artist world."
~*~