Int. Cherisa Laurent: 001 - Blog Posts

"Four. Or so everyone says. I also don't eat my green veggies, if you're curious." Briggs retorted with a wide, shit-eating grin. It was a lie, he was capable of eating all vegetables, but for the purposes of entertaining her and this conversation, he was going to act like he didn't. One thing about him, he loved to annoy people. "Just how old do you really think I am? I was joking, I am not four. I'm closer to mid-age than I am to twenty. I just have really great genes." His grin only grew at her answer. "Got other plans after the set, obviously. Something more private, but still very loud." He turned his head to gesture to the bartender to come over and then looked back at the stranger. "I'll see what I can do. What should I order for you?"

     "Jesus," Cherry muttered then tipped back a sip of her negroni. "How old are you?" Cerulean eyes cut over to the musician clocking that he looked young and virile enough to her. Even though she'd enjoyed his music and sat through most of his set (the bartender had mentioned he'd been a song deep when she'd sat down) the raven haired woman sat impassive. To the untrained eye she'd appear bored. "What're you going to do when you're actually a middle aged man? Or worse, over the hill?" A slight smile turned up a corner of her mouth. "Only perform for the early bird crowd?" Slight acknowledgment came in her giving him partial attention, a barely measured turn of her head in his direction. "Be bold. Order the coffee. The rebel of the hour."