The bartender nodded as he walked to make their drinks, Juniper raising his eyebrow but deciding not to comment on the choice. Rum, sugar, mint and water – he hadn’t really had many of them but he had seen them plenty of times and the way it tended to be served at least hid the slightly girly ingredients.
“They’ll deliver our drinks to us so let’s go find a seat,” he instructed Jack, leading the way to a lonely booth table though soft, classical music gave way to more ambiance. He sat down on one side and straightened his cigar jacket.
Due to the summer heat, the blue artist had given up his usual turtlenecks for a loose black poet shirt, buttoned down the front. He nervously adjusted the collar before taking a seat across from Juniper. Having a private booth did ease his nervousness a bit, but it didn’t ebb completely.
“This seems n-nice.” God, he hated stuttering in front of the actor. “So, erm … you said you’ve heard of my work?”
“Yes,” he replied, leaning back into his seat and lounging one arm against the back of it, appearing much at ease. “You were on the news after all – don’t know if you saw it?”
Granted he hated that the part of the reason it was so big was because of Jack’s appearance, praises had been sung on the short report about his lovely artwork. He tried to not stare directly at Jack in case in made him nervous and only glanced at him here and there, directing his attention to art work on the wall.
“N-not really,” he said. “I had an exhibition a few months ago, but after that I was out of the city for a long time. I only r-really returned last month, and I’ve spent most of my time since then catching up on things with my friends.” He gave a more genuine smile. “It’s good to be back, though.”
He glanced over at the bar, hoping their drinks would arrive soon. “W-what about you? How long have you been in Metro City?” Jack was embarrassed to admit that he hadn’t heard of Juniper, but then, he didn’t watch many movies.
Jack Maple 