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13 days ago
Uncharacteristically positive status bar right now. Good vibes.
1 mo ago
If a gym was haunted and the ghosts moved the weights around would the ghosts make gains or not?
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2 mos ago
When conducting interior painting operations, do it naked.
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2 mos ago
File your taxes as married filing separately or they'll come after you even after your married.
2 mos ago
Gundam 00 was my favorite in recent memory.
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Sena watched as the jets passed over the stadium as soon as Levi finished with the anthem in perfect timing. Luck was just something the boy had from time to time and he had delivered on the anthem as promised, not that she would ever admit to him that it was good. It was much more fun to aggravate him continually. He appeared to even dip his shoulder a little at the end instead of standing like a lightning rod. She smirked a bit, enjoying the drink and watching Karina browsing over the field, who on occasion, had some flirty feelings towards their guitarist, but nothing that ever stuck or went beyond a passing rumination. To Sena, Karina was the likability flavor of the band, like an anchor in an ocean of bubble-gum soda-pop. She could have had any man she wanted even if there was no money and no Miami Rebellion.

The mayor delivered an acceptable first pitch and the whole ensemble was quickly moved off the field so the game could begin.

The players trotted out on the field and Karina looked inquisitively. They had been to a few Corsair’s games and a few back in Miami, though not really ever paid that much attention. She knew there was some kind of pacing to the game depending on who hit the ball first. “Are we on offense or defense?”

“Uhhh…” Sena looked at the field where the Corsairs had taken up positions and the pitcher was warming up with a few throws while the batter tested a few practice swings outside the box. “I think that’s in football?” She said with a shrug. “We always hit second.”

“What do you mean?” Karina said, watching the field. “Like second base? They hit the ball from there too? I’ve never seen that. That doesn’t seem fair, for them.”

“No, ‘Rina.” Sena tried to explain. “The home team always hits the ball after they get three outs… I think.”

“This is confusing.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Well you didn’t know either.”

An unfamiliar voice seemed to be talking to them and it occurred to both of the girls that many more club members and golden-ticket winners had been filing in while they were musing on the finer points of the game and they both looked back at the same time. The relation in their faces was evident, though their color choices were continually a contrast. Karina wore her customary red bow though her outfit was slightly more relaxed than usual. Sena, on the other hand, looked almost militaristic in comparison with her ribbon tucked inside expertly styled black hair. “Whoa, are you like a model or something?” Karina said finally. “That is a really nice outfit for baseball.”

Sena grinned a bit as her sister’s words began to slip somewhat from being loosened by several drinks. However another ruckus ascended the stairway to the top level drawing the attention of everyone on the club level away from the game.


Shirtless, the band bassist, Aaron, announced his arrival with their drummer, Tony, right behind. Both were accompanied by fawners tucked under both arms they had picked up along the way. Covered in a mix of tribal and contemporary tattoos over his naturally bronze skin, Aaron looked something like a cross between a professional wrestler and an Aztec warrior. Tony walked behind him with a cool swagger wearing a brand new Corsairs jersey and hat along with a glimmering chain rope around his neck that sparkled under his wide-sunglasses.

A member of the club staff immediately handed Aaron an entire pitcher that he took in hand with a broad smile. “Grassy-ass senor!” He proclaimed before downing the entire contents in a flash and producing a hearty belch.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaron!” Karina called out playfully crawling up on top of her lounge chair and craning her small frame around Isabella so the larger man could see her.

“Senorita!” He shouted making his way over. A second pitcher was handed off along the way while a cigar and a brown liquor over ice was handed to Tony. They made their way over as the attention of the crowd alternated between the spectacle of their arrival and the crack of the bat against the ball as a beam-like line drive was intercepted by the third baseman producing a howl of approval throughout the stadium.



Before the game…

The Corsair Club lounge was every bit as posh as the brochure claimed. Impeccably cleaned and positioned over the third baseline and under the retracted awning, just so perfectly in the design of the stadium upgrades that the breezes from the ocean seemed to flow right over it in an invisible cascade of harmonious agreement among nature and architectural thermodynamics. It was still hot, humid even, but it came in a way that the club members didn’t seem to mind, almost like it wasn’t even noticeable, natural even. It was hot and humid in the Maldives as well, but it was the Maldives and this was Diamond Stadium. Rumor in Knight Enterprises was that Marcus had paid more than a handsome sum to an obscure, reclusive French architect to design it and consequently squabbled over the final placement. Marcus wanted the guests to be able to experience a foul ball, not forgetting they were attending a baseball game- they could happily take their social conventions to the Island Diamond or the Double-D. The architect found this ludicrous and the compromise tucked the whole affair happily closer to home on the baseline.

The seating carried a motif similar to that of the rooftop Island Diamond, however slightly adjusted in neon light for the team colors. It was imagery Sena had seen a thousand times as she watched the early Corsair-faithful filing into the general admission seating below: Families, couples, kids running freely with sticks of cotton candy and baseball gloves. It was total Americana. The teams warmed up as last minute touches were made to the starkly emerald outfield and painstakingly manicured infield. Ever since Marcus had taken over, all the games carried a certain “party” atmosphere. Sena quietly noticed every-single-song played over the speakers as she watched someone carefully polishing the helicopter still sitting in left field where they landed. Everything from Buffett to WAM echoed over the speakers suiting an upbeat taste for everyone. It was maddening.

“You are gonna have a good time tonight.” Karina’s voice was suddenly right behind her. She handed Sena a colorful frozen drink with an equally over-the-top garnish of pineapples, kiwi, mango and other tropical fruits.


“You’re in a funk,” She continued, plopping down next to her in one of the large lounge cushions. “There needs to be less rebellion and more romance I think.” She said, biting away a pineapple chunk and smirking.

“Is this a serious conversation right now?” Sena cocked an eyebrow.

Karina shrugged. “I’m just sayin’ you’ll feel a lot better if you loosen up some, I know we have an image and all, but you don’t have to let it, like…” She thought for a moment, maybe the conversation was a little too serious for the setting, but since that day at the diner, she had felt like maybe she needed to say something. Aside from that, she had already had a few samplings from the bar. “Like, you know, be the band, don’t let it be you.” She said finally feeling very pleased with how philosophical the words came out.

“Maybe I can do both.” Sena replied, starting into her drink with a shrug. Karina was a naturally pleasant personality and it was impossible not to allow her to force even a tiny smile.

A raucous entry onto the club level brought about a distraction from the conversation, though both Sena and Karina knew the dominant voice of the Sweeper who hurriedly followed Levi as he sauntered up to the bar and downed a pair of shots as if the older man wasn’t even there. “Soup” already had his guitar slung over one shoulder and wore his regular performance attire of black slacks, business loafers with a loose fitting white business shirt with equally disheveled, slender tie.

“Look Levi, just try to be more relaxed out there. It’s the national anthem for God’s sake. Look like you’re feeling it some.”

“I am relaxed. I play better when I stand still.” Levi said plainly. This was a regular debate among them. There was no doubt about talent, it was strictly a matter of presentation. Levi was near stone-like on stage and were it not for a startling ability on the strings, the spectacle would have potentially crested the point of comedy. It drove Danny completely insane. “Do you want better music or do you want theatrics, Danny?”

Both.” The Sweeper replied instantly with the confident smile that had sealed hotel deals worldwide.

Levi rolled his eyes indignantly and proceeded towards the stairs before a rude jeer stopped him in his tracks.

He’s gonna choke!

The sisters cackled wildly at the glare returned to them by their lead guitarist. The club wait staff and other members seemed slightly perplexed by the interaction, but the veterans accustomed to the band’s eccentricities carried on unabated. This was only the beginning. Sena cupped her hands and booed loudly as Levi rolled his eyes and walked away shaking his head.

Game start

Flashbulbs erupted as Levi stepped out onto the field along with the mayor and a flanking local media crew while the loudspeaker blared the announcement across the stadium to prepare for the national anthem. None of it affected him in the least. He didn’t even smile as his name was called out and people stood and removed their hats while his stoic image was broadcast up over the brand-new jumbotron. He had the look of a man about to perform surgery rather than play an instrument, though to him the seriousness was much the same. The ambient bustle of the crowd was silenced as he charged one hand over the strings of his unusually blue-camouflaged BCR Mockingbird and let loose.


Corsairs' Special Invitation


By random drawing, you have received a special invitation in the mail to the very exclusive Corsair Club courtesy of Knight Enterprises and Knight Hotels for tonight’s game. Always one to court the locals where his construction projects are underway, Marcus has personally authorized a select number of passes that will allow access to the upper level for unlimited food and drink while the game is played. Enjoy lounge seating, Diamond-level service and watch the giant awning retract as you take in a warm summer night of baseball.

Miami Rebellion guitarist, Levi Campbell will be leading off the night with the national anthem along with a flyover from Navy Squadron 31 and first pitch thrown out by the mayor. Rumor has it that the rest of the band will be in attendance though how they mix with the mayoral entourage should make for an interesting evening.



Hello sports fans and Delta Dwellers tonight is an fantastic night for the ball game at Diamond Stadium. Skies are clear and the beers in the concession stand are the only thing cool on the coast tonight.

Delta City does not get better than this. Enjoy!
Official skip notice coming up. Looks like Saturday night!
Lee Stephens
Gwendolyn Dexter Barrett

Gwen looked over the bodybuilder as he took the plastic case, placing a boot on the bench. “Getting a boyfriend is not really on the top of my list.” Taking out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, lighting up one of the cancer sticks. Taking a few deep puffs and blowing large smoke rings in front of her. “I’m gonna need payment for getting your meds.” Holding out her hand for the Aussie to hand her some cash. She really hoped this guy was not going to stiff her on the bill. If he did then she would have to get her boss involved, and that would not really be a good idea.

“Yea, I didn’t say boyfriend,” Lee replied, digging into his back pocket. His work jeans were well worn and the denim was stretched in the shape of white outline where his wallet resided. He had already banded together one group of bills and unceremoniously dropped the stack in her lap, “I said man.” The fact that she had mentioned being paid for “getting” his supplements seemed to confirm his suspicions that she wasn’t at the highest level of his contact’s pecking order- none of the others ever said anything like that, it was usually just chit-chat, sometimes even questions about diet or exercise, but people were funny. The sports-pharmaceutical business he gave them was essentially low-risk and easy profit, meaning the runners he met were generally more relaxed than this brooding girl.

Gwen took the wad of cash into her hand, quickly putting it into her jean pocket. “Potato, tomato.” She curtly responded making sure that the wad of cash was not going to fall out of her pocket. “Thanks, chief.” She took another drag of her cigarette, blowing what looked like guts of dark wind coming out of her mouth. There was a quite long bit of silence before Gwen spoke up. “You ever thought about wanting kids?” This question would seem out of the blue, but she was curious about what he thought about having children. Personally, she was not interested in raising a loud bratty child. She thought the world was getting too crowded, too many ungrateful people clogging up the streets. Even if she would have a child she would try to be a better parent than her own.

Lee was just about to write-off the conversation and walk away when the girl suddenly piped up again with a complete reversal in what appeared to be her standard demeanor, suddenly wanting to chat about reproduction after quickly dismissing the boyfriend talk. “Yeh, maybe one day, not right now though, got too much goin’ on,” He said with a modest shrug and tucking the case under one arm. It was a question he’d been asked before so the words were almost automatic, however he remembered seeing some children playing as he’d walked into the park and he was starting to piece together that his little drug runner had some daddy issues, or more, perhaps. Backchannel dealing in the pharmaceutical trades didn’t exactly attract the most savory of characters, though she was more presentable than some he’d seen. Nothing a little crude humor couldn’t solve: “Why? Ya thinkin’ about makin’ some babies, yeh?”

Looking up at the man watching him turning back around to responding to her question, “I was thinking about it myself, i might want a kid in the future. But i don’t know if i’ll be a good parent or not. Being a drug deal ain’t really a, “what do you want to be when you grow up kinda job”.Finishing off her cigarette and putting it out on the ground, throwing out the bud into a near by garbage can. A small smile appeared on her face hearing his crude joke, “Maybe, only if that person buys me a nice dinner first.” She looked over towards a mother playing with his son, imagining herself playing her son or daughter. She didn’t think she would be a very good mother. Or perhaps because of her upbringing, she would try to be a better parent then her own. Now she felt she was bothering her client with her philosophizing about having children, and how to raise them. “Sorry, i’ll be goin. Thanks for the cash, hope we can do this again sometime.” Standing up from the bench, sliding her hands deep into her pockets.

In his back pocket was a small notepad with a golfing pencil threaded through the binder which Lee used throughout the day to write down trailer and container numbers, ship names and any other plethora of notes. Before any sort of warning about mixing business and pleasure could flash through his brain, he smoothly produced it as if he were about to run shift change at the port. “How about I give you a call the next time I’m hungry for a nice dinnah?” He said, handing her a blank page with an assertive smirk. “And maybe we can do this again.”

Taking the pencil and piece of paper quickly writing down her house number, “I’d like that.” She said handing him back the paper with her number. Smiling once again before saying goodbye and heading off. Her next destination was going to meet her bandmates to practice for their gig tonight. Walking back towards her car, but not before looking back to peer over at the Aussie Bodybuilder. Giving him one last smile.

Looking at making some skip moves later this week. Don't worry, there's still plenty of time for Team Sushi, just look for a more official announcement maybe this weekend.
Lee Stephens

Lee gave a smug grin at Gwen’s princess attitude as it occurred to him fairly quickly that maybe she was new at this or just wasn’t that good at it, maybe both as she sneered at her customer then begrudgingly moved over for him to sit before going back to her brooding. He didn’t take her up on the invitation, but instead swiftly plucked away the small plastic case containing his cycles. He planted one boot on the bench demonstrating that he wasn’t going to run, not that she could’ve stopped him, and merrily began inspecting the contents as he spoke. “Now with an attitude like that, you’re nevah gonna find a man.” He said, verifying everything, thumbing through neatly packaged pills and vials for direct injection. There was a bench press competition coming up at the Steel Mill and he wanted to remain undefeated, after that there would be an actual show that he would need to cut down for, so it would be a tough run until the start of the Fall. All the compounds looked to be in perfect order as usual and he closed the small box. The plastic tabs shut securely under his hands with an audible pop.

Lee Stephens

By the time he had finished his shift at Port Delta, Lee had personally driven a forktruck, a crane, a frontend loader and at least two yard trucks. It was a normal day and the good thing about Wednesday was, as the regular expression went throughout the shift: tomorrow’s Friday. As his crew worked four, ten-hour days, Thursday was the last day of the week with Friday being always optional to work overtime with the weekend crew. The union didn’t always care for his willingness to do all the jobs of the shift, or work over the set hours, but generally they didn't bother him. He paid his dues, the men were loyal to him and his shift regularly put up the best unload numbers. Lee played the system to his advantage: If he needed to work he worked. If the port was swamped and he only had time to give them forty hours, then that’s all they got. No one dared question him and he knew it was primarily because of his physical stature that he was left alone. Today they got ten and when the afternoon whistle rang out over the container yard, he was walking through the gate with the rest of the men.

Normally his work week was consistent nearly down to the minute. He followed the same schedule religiously. Today was a little different. He twisted the throttle on his bike, picked up another gear and headed across the bay towards Mandarin Park.

Right after the lease on his boat and food, supplements for training were the largest expenditure of Lee’s earnings and not that long ago were not difficult to get in hand. However, mostly because of the public spectacle of the Olympics, everyone in the fitness industry and particularly bodybuilding knew the writing was on the wall and it would only be a matter of time before politics came after the drugs. If you wanted to be ahead of the game, you had to have a reliable source. Being intimately in the know for several years, Lee was one such person and he kept several avenues open for his needs. The one he was on his way to meet was one his preferred sources. Sure, the drugs weren’t illegal, yet, but this individual had already made the right moves in Lee’s mind, by moving his operation into as low key and undetectable methods as possible. He was positive the guy was dealing in a plethora of other substances, but that was neither here nor there as long as he got what he needed, the other customers could do whatever they had to do.

Friday would have been a preferable appointment, but that was the nature of the beast. He had always kept his stuff out of the hands of the US Postal Service, so when it came available, he picked it up. Today would be a leg day when he headed back over the bridge to the Steel Mill and that was always the shortest training day. The shift ended mid afternoon before the traffic so he could make up some of the time if he kept the throttle open.

As usual, the contact person was not the actual procurement agent. Lee knew some of these individuals liked to consider themselves “dealers” which he found amusing. However, they were more like runners to him. Someone else made the big deals, but there was still a needed separation to keep the supply chain secure and these people had to make a living as well. The agent himself often changed up the runner, which Lee thought was probably a smart move, it just happened that this one was supposed to be a young girl which was new. The exhaust popped and cracked as he nonchalantly eased into a parking space near a couple of vans, dropping the kickstand. He shut the engine down and glanced around, finding the girl sitting alone on a bench, just like the phone call had said.

“Discreet” was never a term used to describe Lee. His presence alone attracted attention, though the park wasn’t exactly crowded and he didn’t really care who was looking. Fresh out of the port, he was still wearing his navy blue union t-shirt Local 510 which looked absolutely painted on his upper body- the chapter’s heat-pressed image of a dock crane stretched from a multitude of uses, equally worn jeans, workboots and sunglasses. The aroma of gasoline, sweat, machinery and ocean water accompanied him as he sauntered up to the bench giving the dejected looking girl a once over before speaking: “Oi! My God it can’t be that bad,” He said with a chuckle. His accent wasn’t the least bit hampered by his move to the United States. “It’s a nice day, you’re at the park, try smilin' a little bit, you’ll feel better.”


Name: Lee Stephens
Age: 28

Height: 5’7”
Weight: 225-250 lbs (depending on competition/cycle)
Eyes: Blue

+Working Out
+Deep Sea Fishing
+Motorcycles/Cars/Offroad Trucks
+Comic Books (mostly Superman)
+Crude Jokes/Poorly Timed Humor
+Steak & Eggs

-Bad Form
-Lack of Discipline
-Cold Weather
-Crazy Conspiracy Theories
-Slow Drivers

Zodiac Sign: Cancer

Special Talent: Weightlifting/Bodybuilding - Lee has naturally good genetics for physical fitness. He can gain/cut weight fairly easily and has a naturally balanced physique.

Profession: Foreman at Port Delta / Pro-Level Bodybuilder

Eccentric, bizarre, unorthodox, most people that encounter Lee remember it. He has a ton of natural energy and most people just enjoy being around him even if they don’t share his interests. Having a party? You gotta invite Lee. Going to the DMV? Why not? Just don’t introduce your wife or girlfriend. There never seems to be a time that he is not living life to the fullest.

Along with his impressive physique, his thick accent instantly sets him apart and he’s usually quick with a joke (often vulgar). He likes to work and be out and about, rarely staying sedentary for very long. He welcomes the attention and enjoys helping people get started in bodybuilding, lifting or just fitness in general, though he’s usually a good encouragement no matter the task or goal.

Lee enjoys competition and approaches the stage with a laser focus. It’s the only time he doesn’t seem to be at ease and can be agitated easily when he is preparing his mind.

Your character's favorite song:

Recent History:
Originally from Airlie Beach, Queensland, Lee’s family were middle class fisherman and port workers. Being farther from the city, he spent most of his youth in the fishing industry though he made the move to Brisbane in his late teens to be closer to his primary hobby: bodybuilding. Days were spent working in the Port of Brisbane while training took up most of his evenings. Having a genetic advantage strongly suited to the sport, time and money were generally his biggest hurdles. Port work was secure and always available, though there was still not sufficient cash flow in professional competition without ascending to the absolute heights of the sport. Still, Lee viewed the Australian circuit as merely a stepping stone to making his move to America where he could be at the epicenter of the sport.

At present, Lee has been in Delta City for around two years. Having brought over amateur and professional accolades/awards from the Australian bodybuilding scene, his presence is an anomaly in an already obscure sport. He finds himself again doing port work to supplement his hobby, though he is closer than ever to making his goal of living on his bodybuilding salary alone. Lee is a regular fixture at the Steel Mill Gym(their only Pro-Card holding member) and often trains people free of charge, but only a couple at a time and only after they have demonstrated a commitment to keeping up the work. To keep his expenses low, he lives in a sailboat docked not far from downtown and drives a Harley Davidson motorcycle rather than owns a car or truck.

Actor or Actress/Public Figure:

Tell us about yourself:

-See Sena Knight CS-


Sena Knight

Sena had moved her sunglasses up prior to GiGi’s return, tousling back her black hair with the frames and exposing the red ribbon slightly more. She regarded the other girl carefully, sitting with her hand propped against her cheek. They were about the same age and she had noticed GiGi examine her message to their young fan. “You know, you’re really pretty.” She said with a slight smirk, completely serious and ignoring the blonde girl’s question about their order.

Karina’s eyes lifted from the menu, where she’d been trying to understand some of the local items. Cheesy Western? What did that mean? Sure, she got the cheese part, but how far west? Did they really call it that? No way. However, she knew when Sena was up to something and she curiously glanced up at GiGi to see her reaction.

GiGi blinked as she was blind-sided with Sena's compliment. "I'll take the compliment since I'm pretty sure you look in the mirror at least once a day." She tipped her head and her blonde ponytail swung lightly brushing across her back. "So…" GiGi poured Sena some coffee making sure to leave some room for add ins. "What are a couple of high class ladies, like yourselves doing downtown? Taking advice from Mr. Joel?"

“See, she agrees.” Sena’s smirk increased at GiGi’s response.

“Mmmhmmm…” Karina gave a sly grin.

Sena was about to speak again when a raucous noise entered alongside the sound of jingling door bells and she instantly knew it was Danny talking boisterously on his cellular along with their pilot. He quickly hung up with a rather aggressive button-push to end the call once he found Sena and Karina.

“Ha! What a day!” He said with a mix of satisfaction and frustration before checking his watch. Whatever the conversation had been, his mood seemed to have lightened considerably from the flight over. He looked around, noticing the commotion he had caused and recognizing one particular hotel proprietor when he had an idea. “One check.” He said to GiGi motioning with a single finger.

“Danny…” Sena said with a familiar sense of feigned civility. She hated being interrupted.

“One check for everybody! Courtesy of Knight Enterprises.” He announced.

...Danny” Her tone became more curt.

“Whatever they want,” Danny continued. He could see the regulars expressions turning from cautious surprise to approval. He even recognized a few faces from years back. One old-timer held up his coffee mug in appreciation, prompting Danny to pick up the cup GiGi had just placed on the table and take a healthy swig along with him. He winced slightly at the taste. “Sweet Jesus... Nevaeh must be working.” He looked up seeing her tending to Jackson. “Nevaeh! Looking wonderful as usual-…”

“Danny!” Sena finally barked.

The sound of her voice hit the Sweeper like a jolt of electricity and he wheeled back around. “Yes Sena, my dear, sorry! Big developments, big moves. I’ll tell you-”

“Hello Danny.” She spoke as if she were putting a small child back in the lunch line, resetting the conversation.

“Yes, Sena?” He knew this tactic of hers and waited for the question.

“Are there any openings for staff at the Diamond?” She asked. “In the restaurant?” It was common to refer to the downtown location as the Diamond as it was the first built. Sena didn’t care for the slang nickname Double-D.

“Oh so this is an HR meeting now?” Danny said with a coy smile. “We could have had this back at the hotel, you know with the other squares.”

Sena blazed a look of cold death right back at him and said nothing.

“Kidding! Kidding!” He raised his hands defensively. “I have no idea, why? Who’s asking?”

“I think GiGi would be a good fit for us there.” In an instant her entire demeanor changed from roaring hatred towards their band manager to warm invitation as she glanced back at GiGi. She had noticed the blonde’s name-tag early on. “What do you think?” She asked. “Would you want to come work with us downtown? Or uptown rather?” She said with a slight raise of an enticing eyebrow, playing off the girl’s musical allusion.

Smiling GiGi was about to make a witty remark when those damned bells went off. Turning sideways she glanced over at Nevaeh who in a saccharine voice said, "Welcome to Chef's!"

Rolling her eyes she turned back to the girls only to have the awkward moments of the new occupant of the restaurant announce his lack of tact and apparently his overabundance of wealth. She raised an eyebrow at the man as Sena almost slew him in one breath with one word. His name.

GiGi blinked down at Sena. Is.. is this chica like a 40 year old mother of 3 teenage boys?! Cause she sounds just like one. Like she'd gladly stuff him in a barrel and roll him down a hill. Then it was like Wimbledon all over again. Martina Navratilova versus Pat Cash this time, and Martina was serving fireballs. GiGi watched as if at this tennis match. She'd almost dumped the coffee on Danny when he grabbed the cup. Damned ingratitude of men.

GiGi looked over at Nevaeh who whipped out. "You damned right I did. Made it just how Bert likes it. Didn't I sugar?" Bert, the old timer, lifted his mug in a salute yet again. Nevaeh lowered her voice but grumbled out. "Don't know how I feel about a man tellin' me how I look in front of people when he says different when we're alone. Keep your forked tongue in your mouth."

GiGi was half listening to Nevaeh on one side and Danny and Sena on the other. When the famous, or rather, infamous Danny tossed in HR and the word squares she raised a brow. So when Sena actually said her name GiGi turned toward the girl and smiled at her referring to Uptown Girl. "You know it would have to be Uptown wouldn't it? Let me get you a clean mug I just noticed has a spot on it."

Moving to get a clean mug GiGi was waylaid by Nevaeh. "Excuse me what?! You cannot be seriously thinking of going all Diane on me!"

"Oh so I can't move on to a better job? I've been here since Cheers started. No before it started. I need better pay with the paper still paying me as a freelancer. I can't ask that of Chef, not to mention you. Working with a part time kid who's making more than you. Yeah, not happening. Claro que no, Chiquita. This right here is a chance, a sign that things are turning around. I have to take it." GiGi pleaded for Nevaeh to realize that she needed this.

"Well when you put it that way…"

GiGi hugged Nevaeh, grabbed a mug, the pot of coffee and the orange juice walking back over to the table. Pouring the coffee, a fresh pot this time, in another mug and slid it towards Sena then she topped off Karina’s orange juice. "Sounds too good to be true. Me? Work for a rock band?" She paused for a moment. "Do I answer to ya'll or to a 3rd party? Do I have to wear a uniform like this? Is it just waitressing? What kind of atmosphere is it? Am I asking too many questions?"

“Don’t worry about any of that stuff,” Sena said cooly with a gentle wave of her hand. “Just be there Monday morning and we’ll take care of the rest.”

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