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[img]https://data.whicdn.com/images/287634763/original.gif[/img][/center]
[sub]Location: 155° Cafe[right]Mood: everything is fine -> everything is definitely not fine[/right]
[right]Mentions: Kat Vaupel [@nasty] || Mimsy Vuong [@Vox] || Axel Maddox [@victorseier][/right][/sub]
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[indent]
Jamie Callaghan is many things, but relaxed has never been one of them. Despite the calm and collected way he moved across the quad, bookbag bouncing rhythmically against his hip, he could feel the quiet pangs of panic scouring the edges of his mind. The truth was that, despite appearances, he hadn’t had a relaxed day in weeks. Maybe if he had, he’d be reacting with a bit more passion to the news that he was an “Elite,” but as it stood, he was just glad it hadn’t been him saddled with the Fake label. He was tired, and while some distant, sleepy part of his brain might be able to plan a way through this mess, it had been working overtime already. The summer had taken an unexpected toll, and the last few weeks hadn’t been alleviating any issues he had. OIC wasn’t exactly known for it’s spa days. He needed a coffee, a scone, and whatever strange comfort Axel brought him. 

Jamie stepped into 155° Cafe and tried once more to push all his worries into a dark corner in his mind, while surveying the room. His eyes fell on Kat Vaupel, and his lips curled down into a frown. Of course she was here. He got in line and looked back over at her, only to see Mimsy Vuong appear suddenly. He cocked an eyebrow Now that, was fucking interesting. Smirking ever so slightly, as he often did when he felt like he knew something that was unintended for him, he moved forward in line. His phone buzzed, and he checked his DMs, grinning now as he typed up a response. 

The grin faded as he slipped his phone back into his pocket, or perhaps more truthfully, he forced it away. He couldn’t let himself keep stumbling over the line with Axel, even with his thoughts. Friends didn’t smile like that at each other’s texts. He needed to be… cool. Not a hot fucking mess, and definitely not the dude who fucks everything up by going and getting a crush. Still. [i][color=31ba9c]He wants you to get him something. Good sign. Or not. Could mean nothing. Or everything. Probably nothing. Nothing is more likely. But you simply can’t rule out the possibility of it meaning something, so maybe just pick wisely. Black coffee? Do I get him food too? That’s nice right? Is it too nice?[/color][/i]

[i]Snap! Snap![/i] [b]“Hey! You ordering or not?”[/b]

The shout from the girl behind the counter shook him out of his introspective labyrinth, and he stepped up, blinking. [color=31ba9c][b]“Sorry, I’ll just get a scone, a breakfast sandwich, a black coffee, and a white chocolate mocha.”[/b][/color]

[b]“What kind of breakfast sandwich?”[/b] The girl behind the counter looked back at Jamie with a look of unbothered annoyance. He was already taking longer than the usual customer. Of course there were different types of sandwiches. He should have just stuck with the black coffee. 

[color=31ba9c][i]Hurryhurryhurryhurryhurryhurryhurry BUT DON’T PICK WRONG hurryhurryhurry[/i][/color] His brain was a broken radio, unintelligible static in which sometimes, in order to keep your sanity, you hoped and prayed to find something that made sense. [color=31ba9c]“I don’t know, just pick one with bacon and give that to me,”[/color] Jamie said, handing his card over and looking down, trying not to let on as to just how flustered he was.

Moments later, the interaction was over, and Jamie was free, free to sit and agonize at a table instead of while standing. He looked out the window but saw no sign of Axel yet. He took a deep breath and made a promise to enjoy at least this one thing. He needed that right now.[/indent][/color]