Graffiti Casanova

Best Friend Pep Talks

Cas had barely knocked before the door was yanked open and he was tugged inside without a word.

He blinked as he stumbled inside behind Mark, who'd slammed the door behind them. "Whoah. What's wrong, man?"

Mark paced his tiny kitchen, shuffling back and forth in his paint-stained jeans and black wife-beater, glaring at the rotten-tooth-yellow linoleum.

He threw up his shoulders in a shrug. "First of all?"

He turned and jabbed a finger at his computer that sat on the table that looked like it'd been stolen from a 50's style diner. And maybe it had been-- Cas wouldn't have put it past his eccentric friend.

Cas stepped across the kitchen to hunch over the computer, peering at the screen. His lips slackened into a deeper frown at the image there. It was a stencil painting of an 18th century wigged man that had to represent the original Casanova-- depicted as a terrified, prissy fool-- being eaten by the signature dragon he knew so well.

Sirena, again.

Cas lifted an eyebrow. "That's..." He was thinking ridiculous, but Mark finished the sentence for him.

"The least of our problems, is what it is." He leaned over and gripped the edge of the table. "Sirena's not the only one who doesn't like that you're back."

Cas straightened, still staring at Sirena's newest challenge. His lips tightened-- Mark could only be referring to one person.

"Platt."

Mark nodded vigorously, eyes wide. "Uh, yeah, that guy. The guy who wants you arrested more than any other writer in this city."

Cas sank into a green vinyl chair. Platt definitely would be a problem.

"What's he said?"

Mark blinked and rubbed his forehead. His tone's edge was sharp. "Uh, the words 'War against Graffiti'. And a whole lot of other bad news for us."

"He's said that plenty of times." Cas's eyes ticked across the room, not focusing on anything as he considered the situation.

"Yeah, well, he's basing his upcoming campaign on it. Seems serious this time."

Cas leaned forward over the table and muttered a curse into his folded hands.

Mark stopped his pacing to come and sit across from Cas. "Man, I just don't want this to stop you." He leaned forward to peer at Cas with nervous eyes. "I've been trying to get you back out there for a year. I don't want this to ruin that."

Cas let the silence stretch on between them for a long time.

"Well." He finally said, and looked up to meet Mark's eyes. "We'll just have to be more careful."

Mark's black eyes studied Cas' grey ones for a moment, before a slow smile spread across his face.

"When are we going back out?"

Cas's lips twitched. Mark's eyes were gleaming, and his enthusiasm was contagious.

"Tonight."

"What's Reece up to?" Bennie dragged a stool back from the bar and sat. We were at the V Bar, she'd dropped by to grab dinner with me. The guys had already left; we'd hit a stopping point in our work and called it a day once Bennie arrived.

"Working on producing a couple songs for a friend of his. Mrs. Lewis from next door worked from our house so he wouldn't have to be alone."

"How is he?"

"It's getting hard for him." I gave a tight shrug. "But I'm glad he's still trying. He doesn't play as much. But he's working hard on producing."

"What can I get you ladies?" Ian stepped over from helping another customer.

"Hey, Ian," Bennie flashed her flirty smile in his direction. "Why haven't you become a model yet?"

He smiled a patient little grin. "Because I'd like to hang onto as much of my self-respect as I can, Bennie."

I shook my head and interjected, sending Ian an apologetic smile. "I'll take a burger once my friend here is done ogling you."

I smirked at Bennie when she slapped my shoulder.

"I'll have the same," she said to Ian, who just smiled and headed to help another customer.

"Seriously, though," she turned to me. "Between him, Otto, and the guys, how do you stand it being around so much hotness every day?"

I looked at her incredulously. "Is that the one thing you think about?"

She gave me an equally disbelieving look. "Of course not. But how is it the one thing you don't think about?"

Bennie suddenly straightened. "Hey! Speaking of boys, Sirena put up a new piece about Casanova. Did you see it?"

I gave her a strange look. "I don't follow your train of thought there. But no, I haven't."

"Casanova; famous womanizer, mysterious graffiti artist, object of fascination either way. You know, you--"

"I met him."

The words slipped out. I'd spoken quietly, but Bennie stopped midsentence and froze.

"Okay. What?"

I bit my lip and looked away. "I met Casanova."

Bennie grabbed my shoulder and yanked me around to face her.

"Why is this the first I'm hearing of it?"

I grimaced and shrugged uncomfortably. "I just..."

"Claire." Bennie's voice dropped to her serious tone. "I need to hear everything." She drew out the last word like it was a life or death matter.

As I relayed the story, Bennie didn't even glance back up at Ian when he set our meals on the bar.

"He totally flirted with you," she said as soon as I finished.

"Uh... I doubt that."

"Was he hot?"

"I already told you that I couldn't see his face, Bennie."

"But like, did he have a hot vibe?"

I stared at her. "I don't even know what that means."

"What about his voice--"

I lifted a hand and waved it in the air to cut her off. "No. Stop. That's not the point."

Bennie blinked at me. "Then what's the point?"

I shook my head. "The point is..." I looked back down at my fries. "I don't know what the point is. There's a man behind the mystery?"

Bennie watched me. "You should talk to him again."

"How?"

"I don't know--" she popped a fry into her mouth. "Be available."

I gave her a wry look. "The police have been hunting him down and can't find him, how am I supposed to?"

She smiled at me then. "Well, maybe he'll find you."

Chapter song is Snap Out Of It by Arctic Monkeys :)