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A waiter walked to their table to deliver their drinks, Juniper’s looking quite plain while Jack’s looked quite fancy that even the seasoned actor had to admit it had presentation. Picking up his scotch as the ice clinked against the glass, he took a light sip of it, his lips pulling back as the liquor burned down his throat.

“Only a few weeks really,” he answered as he eyes wandered around at the other patrons in case any of them wanted to approach them. “Was too busy shooting to explore until recently. I’ll say though that this is the first time I’ve made some connections in a city and wished to stay.”

He chuckled lightly and sipped his drink again. He never drank too much because he didn’t want to get drunk but he was with a rather shy, new friend and figured one night buzzed wouldn’t be so bad if the man loosened up.

Jack took a few sips of his own drink, then set it down again. The cool, sweet burn of the lime and rum was nice, but he knew he didn’t have much tolerance for alcohol, and it wouldn’t make a good impression for him to get drunk in front of the sophisticated actor. 

“Heh, I can understand that.” Now that he was a bit more relaxed, his stutter had faded. “I only moved here myself last November, from Anderson’s Field.” He gave a weak little chuckle. “Just a simple country boy, on his own in the city for the first time. Fortunately it’s turned out very well.” 

“Tell me about it?” Juniper dared while he rested his elbows on the table, fingers laced together. “I mean if you want to – I don’t want to pry but it sounds like a good story.”

He figured they may as well share stories if they were going to become friends. Juniper had few close friends, mostly famous ones but they tended to be superficial and he doubted any of them would risk anything for him. He just wanted real friends.

“Oh, it’s all right.” Jack took another sip, smiling faintly. He didn’t mind talking about his past (the recent parts, anyway), and it was kind of flattering to be the focus of the actor’s attention. “I d-don’t know if it’ll be very interesting to someone as well-traveled as you, though." 

He told Juniper about his career as a painter, and how he’d moved to Metro City in the hope of finding new opportunities – and of forcing himself to be braver and more outgoing. "It d-didn’t work very well at first. I was still a recluse, b-barely speaking to anyone except clients.” His smile grew. “But then I met Katelynn." 

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“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.

A waiter walked to their table to deliver their drinks, Juniper’s looking quite plain while Jack’s looked quite fancy that even the seasoned actor had to admit it had presentation. Picking up his scotch as the ice clinked against the glass, he took a light sip of it, his lips pulling back as the liquor burned down his throat.

“Only a few weeks really,” he answered as he eyes wandered around at the other patrons in case any of them wanted to approach them. “Was too busy shooting to explore until recently. I’ll say though that this is the first time I’ve made some connections in a city and wished to stay.”

He chuckled lightly and sipped his drink again. He never drank too much because he didn’t want to get drunk but he was with a rather shy, new friend and figured one night buzzed wouldn’t be so bad if the man loosened up.

Jack took a few sips of his own drink, then set it down again. The cool, sweet burn of the lime and rum was nice, but he knew he didn’t have much tolerance for alcohol, and it wouldn’t make a good impression for him to get drunk in front of the sophisticated actor. 

“Heh, I can understand that.” Now that he was a bit more relaxed, his stutter had faded. “I only moved here myself last November, from Anderson’s Field.” He gave a weak little chuckle. “Just a simple country boy, on his own in the city for the first time. Fortunately it’s turned out very well." 

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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.

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-Arriving at the Red Velvet, Juniper puts it in park and steps out, a valet taking the car keys from him- “Here it is.” -It’s a fancy building with low lighting and beautiful decor with sections separated for the cigar smokers and the bar strictly for drinking. He leads Jack inside and walks up to the bar to order a scotch before turning to Jack- “What’ll you have?”

Standing a short ways back from the bar, Jack fidgeted nervously for a moment. As he’d told the other man, he didn’t drink as a habit, but he didn’t want Juniper to think he was a wimp by ordering something non-alcoholic. But what to order? He hated the taste of beer and scotch. Wine was okay – they’d served it at many of the galas when he was in New York – but he knew bars weren’t known for their fine vintages.

“Uh … a mojito?” He’d tried those, and they were usually okay. He just hoped a cocktail wouldn’t seem too girly.

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?”