[hr][hr][center][h1][color=ff6600]Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway[/color][/h1][img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/6f3c25612f0dbca11d7dcbcd8ec3a08d/tumblr_inline_mfhw6qRnSl1rcntul.gif[/img][hr]Location: The Park ---> Funnel Cake Stand[/center][hr][hr]She heard the sound of shuffling papers, and what she assumed to be a heated conversation between Chris and one of his superiors. Making a mental note of that, Tuesday consciously plastered on a big cheesy grin, just to get her back into the proper intonation as Chris responded. [color=ff6600]"Super! I've been dying to find someone to talk to, will see you there...And if you see Marc or my sister, can you not tell them you saw me? You're the best!"[/color] She ended the call, glancing around down from her perch up in the tree. From what she could tell from Marc's texts, he was out looking for her.

And she had been cursed with bright red hair. It was like a neon sign, informing everyone exactly where she was. Plus, he likely had memorized exactly what she was wearing. She rose slightly from her perch, holding on tightly to the trunk of the tree, as she attempted to see if Marc was anywhere near the park. She bit her lip slightly, before sitting back down on the branch. Pulling her hair into a tight bun, Tuesday slid on a black beanie. Most of the vibrant red mess was concealed. With her jacket, she slid it off, and tied it around her waste. Her prison tattoos only completed the picture, almost a tribute to the 90s. 

Slowly climbing out of the tree, Tuesday walked confidently. She had picked up a thing or two from her time bouncing from party to party, where the drug dealers and smugglers would boast about the techniques that they [i]swore[/i] would always confuse the police. Her aim was to hide in plain sight, to give off no appearance of being on the run, or wanting to disappear. 

Though, it was also that she didn't really give a fuck. Marc could look for her all he wanted, he could accuse her of being a runaway--but at the end of the day, Tuesday was an adult. She wasn't obligated to keep people informed of her current whereabouts. It wasn't long before she reached the fair, and spotting the funnel cake stand, Tuesday stood by it, scratching at her wrists. Hopefully, Chris would be able to give her some goddamn answers. 

She wondered if the cameraman would even recognize her. It was probably for the best that he had specified a particular meeting spot. Otherwise, he very likely could have been awkwardly looking away, expecting the sweet little shy girl from high school, and not the felon.