Rock, Paper, Scissors (closed to Lucky_XIII & MrAdam)

[TheOneThatGotAway]

Trina Cardwell
Age: 24

Thank God it's fuckin' Friday, Trina thought to herself as she drove into the parking lot of the Corner Tavern bar. It had been a long three months of pulling nearly 12-16 hours every day, but it had all been worth it. The creative ad agency she worked for had been courting a high end client for the past six months or so, and as of yesterday they had finally selected them as their agency of record.

As a Junior Account Manager, it was her job to assist with knowing the client like the back of her hand, and being able to manage their expectations with projects and deliverables. During one of the client pitches, she had impressed both the client and her Director with the thorough research she had compiled on not only the client themselves, but their competitors and future trends as well. According to her supervisors, she would be up for promotion in no time.

The climb up the corporate ladder came at a price though. Working as hard as she did, barely allowed her any time for a social life. Hell, she barely saw "Lucky", her own roommate, and she lived with her. Boyfriends came and went for the most part. Once they realized they were second to her career, they would give her their "I'm out" speech, and she'd shrug with barely as much as a "See ya." Cold? Maybe. To her own credit though, she was always upfront with what she was looking for.

Trina wasn't looking to settle down any time soon, and the way she saw it, there were plenty of fish in the sea, and experiences to be had. And right now, a good, lusty fuck with someone new sounded like a stellar experience to be had.

As she approached the door, she caught her reflection in the glass windows and did a mental check of her appearance. Before she left the office, she changed into a loose fitting coral shirt that tied to the side, a short jean skirt, and coral sandals that showed off her lean legs. Trina pulled the door with authority, and announced her presence to the bar, "WOO!! It's Friday, bitches!!", which was answered by collective "Woo's!!" and "Yeah's!!" With her devil-be-damned grin, she added, "Now, who's buying me me drinks?!" She smiled, as most of the regulars, including the bartenders, just shook their heads.

Trina found Lucky at their usual seats at the bar, and sidled up next to her as she gave her a hug. As she sat down, her usual drink, Jack & Ginger, was placed on the bar without her even mentioning a word -- one of the reasons why she loved this place. She continued to people-watch as she and Lucky made small talk about work.

Stealing a sideways glance toward her friend, she tsked and sighed. Lucky was definitely dressed to tease this evening. Too bad you're not into girls, she thought to herself as she recalled the close encounter the two had shared months ago. Only to be cut short with Lucky abruptly pulling away, muttering something about "not being a lesbian" and retreating to her room. Trina was dumbfounded at first, then frustrated, just like she started to feel now.

Neither of them dared to bring up the incident since. She gave herself a mental shake, and continued scanning the bar until she noticed him. Over by the pool tables; tall, brown hair, dark eyes, carrying himself with a cool and calm demeanor…yum.

Apparently Lucky noticed the object of her attention, and quipped, "Mmm…I know right? Yeah. Dibs."

"Bullshit," Trina bit out a little more quickly than she had wanted. Only to see Lucky unfazed, with her fist poised atop her open palm, ready to engage in the age old tradition of all deciding parties.

"Y'know," Trina started, "I really should start dating women again. That way I won't have to worry about you eyeing the same person." She smirked as she noticed Lucky's minute flinch most would've missed.

Trina sighed, "Let's get this over with then. The usual: Winner keeps the guy, Loser backs off, no drama. Best two outta three." She rested her fist on her palm, "Ready?"

 

[Lucky_XIII]

Naoko "Lucky" Keiko
Age: 23

"WOO!! It's Friday, bitches!!"

Lucky smiled, turning her attention towards the front entrance to the bar. Yep, that was her Trina. She was alive. Always an energy about her, never afraid to speak her mind. It was sheer beauty, what Trina was. And back in college, she had helped little Miss Naoko Keiko immensely with that energy and attitude.

Naoko wasn't anti-social, not really. Maybe a little. But mostly, it had been the rules of her household, parents that were strict as fuck, that kept her from interacting with her peers outside of school and extra curricular activities. Going to college, it was kind of a culture shock. She had freedom. She was vulnerable. And Trina has guided her, protected her. Taught her how to bullshit confidence when she had none, helped her to become strong willed. Hell, she had even given Lucky her nickname. Which, for the record, seemed to be a lot less intense than 'Naoko'. She liked it.

Trina sat next to her and they exchanged a hug. As her friend drew back, she took a look at Lucky's dress and tsked and sighed at her. "What? This old thing?" she smiled and did her best 'I'm fucking adorable' pose. Tonight, Lucky wore her favorite gray top, which was a one shouldered arrangement, its one sleeve being long. The rest fit to her much like a tank top, clinging tightly against her lithe body and perky C-cup breasts. If one allowed their eyes to gaze lower, they'd find a red and black colored pleated skirt, which was fastened just above her hips with a black leather belt with double silver eyelets all the way around. If she shifted her position in such a way as to draw the fabric of her skirt up her legs, it would immediately reveal the upper reaches of her thigh high stockings. Silken, and white, sight of the stockings would only reach to just below her knees, where tall black leather boots would continue to reach to the floor. The boots, in themselves, were very simple. Not much of a heel, and what was there was anything but a stiletto.

The two made small talk relating to work. Lucky congratulated her friend on her success with the new contract and didn't have too much to add in regard to her own job. She wasn't nearly as career oriented as her friend, or at least, she hated the corporate game so far. But she did it. Hell, what else was she going to do with her business administration degree?

Eventually, Trina got around to eyeballing the wonderful specimen of a man Lucky had identified prior to her arrival.

"Mmm…I know right? Yeah. Dibs."

"Bullshit," Trina nearly growled. Lucky smiled. She liked the ferocity. In response, she coolly straightened her posture as she almost meditatively placed an open palm before her, poising a closed fist gracefully on top. She was confident, if only to see it get a rise out of Trina.

And a remark in regards to going back to dating women, so as to not need to compete against Lucky. Which, given their present method of decision and Lucky's well...luckiness, Trina had a point. But her companion flinched, ever so slightly. She hadn't been entirely truthful with her friend, or really so much to herself for that matter. She was attracted to women. Most of all, she was attracted to Trina. But that night...when she had so eloquently broke up a perfectly good and passionate kiss with her best friend, she didn't know what else to say other than to deny being a lesbian. It wasn't a complete lie. She was bisexual. Like the label really mattered at this point, it was really just a technically for her to dance around with in her own mind.

Even now, as Lucky watched Trina, she felt burning regret. But. She had done the right thing, yeah? To be lovers would be to jeopardize their friendship and...Trina wasn't just her best friend, she was essentially her only friend. The only one she really trusted, anyway. Naoko could play nice and get along with people, but she saw no reason to open up to people that weren't Trina. She couldn't even begin to fathom a life without her in it.

Trina sighed and Lucky felt a tinge of guilt as she listened to the usual guidelines for their Rock, Paper, Scissors duel. Guilt, because she knew she was going to win. And some more guilt, because she knew she was going to mindlessly fuck the guy, too.

"I'm ready," she said with a smirk. "...Did I mention he has a British accent? Such mine." She nodded, to indicate that she was finished taunting for the moment.

1, 2, 3, Shoot.

Lucky: Scissors. Trina: Paper

"All mine..." A devious grin. "I'm so sorry, Trina." And she really was. But she sure as fuck didn't show it.

"Fuck you," Trina sniped back.

1, 2, 3, Shoot.

Lucky: Rock. Trina: Paper.

"You almost never throw the same thing twice..." Lucky pouted.

"I knew you'd think that. I'm going to totally mind fuck you on this next one." Trina boasted.

Lucky drew her mouth to one side and considered her friend for several long moments before silently offering her hands for the final battle.

1, 2, 3, Shoot.

Lucky: Paper. Trina: Rock.

"Dammit!"

Lucky grinned. "Good game, friend."

Trina reached for her glass and took a long drink. 'No drama' often meant that they'd be done talking to each other for the night. But it'd be okay. Lucky would go distract herself and Trina would get over it.

"If it makes you feel any better," Lucky offered. "I will guarantee you that my win won't go to waste." She gave her friend a wink. There had been times, in the past, on several occasions, that Naoko won the game of Rock, Paper, Scissors and then didn't even go home with the guy. She was a bit of a tease like that.

She collected her vodka and energy drink from the bar and swung her legs to the opposite side of the stool. "Sorry, love." She patted Trina on the shoulder twice before standing up. "And congrats on the big client, again. Truly, I'm proud of you." A short pause. "Enjoy your night." With that, she began walking towards the pool tables.

Naoko approached the British gentleman directly, a friendly smile upon her lips. "Hey there, handsome. My name is Lucky, and I will be your date this evening." She ran a hand down the front of his loosened tie, her gaze following the descent. As she reached the bottom of the length of fabric she looked up to his eyes, her own sparkling with mischief. "Or any night...assuming you're not otherwise taken?"

 

[MrAdam]

Six months ago.....

Marc leaned back into the sofa, sinking into its soft embrace as the effect of the POETS day drinks started to kick in. He had the warm and fuzzy feeling of mild drunkenness, multiplied by the imminent weekend, and some fucking excellent news. He'd got the secondment he'd applied for, and the day-long “orientation” session had turned into a half day orientation session and an extended liquid lunch.

“So tell me, Stu, what's it really like over there? I mean, none of this corporate or tourist bollocks, none of that 'look the other way before crossing the road' or 'don't say “I'm going out to smoke a fag”' or any that shit. None of this “representing the image of the British arm of the company” - I mean, what's it really like living and working there?”

Stu had spent a year Stateside, and had returned a few months ago. He'd been “tasked” with putting together a session for the next cohort, and had decided that an informal approach would be best.
“Okay”, he said. “All the stuff I said in the seminar, I meant. But if I were to boil it down, I'd say this. Work Hard, Play Hard. That's it. Don't play so hard you balls up your work and get yourself sacked, don't work so hard that you don't have any fun. Don't turn into some kind of workaholic anorak. Americans are... they tend to be... more up front, more in your face, more direct than we are. You get used to it, but try not to take offence when none's meant. Their default setting.... it's several notches more towards optimistic than ours is. We default towards cynicism and pessimism, - they don't. 'How was your weekend?' They'll say 'great!', we'll say 'not too bad'.”

Marc nodded. “Right. And no religion, and no politics?”
“Do not discuss, unless you know the people pretty well, and even then, don't initiate it. Think of it this way, over here, the spectrum of opinion is spread about this wide” said Stu, his hands measuring about the width of his body. “Over there, it's fucking.... as wide as this pub. Don't get me wrong, most of them are okay, but some... are a bit Dagenham.”
“Dagenham?”
“Three stops past Barking”
Marc laughed. “Yeah, I get that impression.”
“Thing is, you can't predict it, either. You'd be talking to someone and they seem perfectly sane, and then suddenly, out of nowhere.... bang!... turns out they've completely lost the plot. Just nod and smile. There's a lot of stuff over there that just seems proper batshit crazy to our eyes and our sensibilities. Why do you allow that, why don't you do this, why don't you do that? But don't ever criticise.... some of them really, really don't like it. I can't explain it until you experience it, but they take patriotism and all that bollocks very, very seriously in a way that we just don't. But even us, you know, we can take the mickey out of ourselves all we like, but we don't always like when outsiders do it.”

“Yeah, I can see that. I've seen the tone some of their politicos adopt when asked a question they don't like... starting talking slowly and capitalising every word as if talking to idiots. Speaking of tone of voice... you mentioned the value of a 'British accent' at work, but what about... socially?”

“Socially?” he repeated, “you mean with women? Well, it's similar, really. Anything said in a 'British accent' sounds, to their ears, smarter, more cultured, more sophisticated. But don't overplay it, don't play up to it, and above all don't become a caricature of what you think their stereotype is. Nothing says “absolute fucking wanker” quite like swanning around like you're James Bond or fucking... Bertie Wooster.. or something like that. Just be yourself. You're exotic and a curiosity already, so there's no need to overplay it. You'll have to put up with people asking you to say stuff like you're a performing parrot, but deal with it with good grace and you'll be fine. As I said in the session, watch yourself with understatement, irony, sarcasm, and satire – they have all those things, but they don't live and breathe it.”

“No, cool, I get all that. What I wanted to know was....”
“Did I get much action?” asked Stu, grinning. “More than here. Yep. And a suave pretty boy fucker like you – with a shitty stick is what I'm saying. Fill your boots, if that's what you want to do.”
“Well, if I'm honest, that's part of the reason for going”
“I didn't see THAT on your application form”
“I may have said something about a fresh start and a change of environment. Meaning that my flat is haunted by the spirit of my ex, it's made things awkward at work, we haven't divided our friends up yet, and in summary and conclusion....I want to get out of here for a bit. I was going to apply last year, but she wasn't keen. The year before just felt a bit too soon. Who knows where I'll be next year, and I don't want to look back and have missed my window of opportunity.”
“Fair play, I get that.”
“From what you said earlier, I'm surprised you came back.”
“Well.... it was a bit of a wrench. But home's home, you know? I missed most of Palace's promotion season.”
“You could have stayed and missed their relegation season, too”
Stu punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Fuck you”.

* * * * *

Another POETS day, another boozer... this one very different.

“That loose red, top right corner pocket” said Marc, gesturing with the pool cue, before lining up the shot. With a smooth left-handed cueing action, the white ball cannoned into the red, which did everything but drop.
“Oooh. Boggled in the jaws” he winced, stepping back from the table. “Still, it's only postponing the inevitable.” He picked up his beer from the table and took a sip.

His gaze was drawn to a young woman he thought he might have spotted looking at him earlier... tight top, off one shoulder, and fuck-me boots. Lovely. He stood leaning against the wall, one foot on the floor, the other up against the wall. He gave an overall impression of lazy elegance – smart grey suit – a little crumpled – white shirt, dark green tie loosened around his neck. Dark hair carefully and artfully styled to look untidy, raffish, careless. He watched the girl out of the corner of his eye, subtly, he hoped, and was surprised to see her coming straight towards him. At first he assumed that she must know one of the others, so just smiled her his best smile to acknowledge her presence.

"Hey there, handsome. My name is Lucky, and I will be your date this evening....Or any night... assuming you're not otherwise taken?"

Marc turned towards her and smiled. He took a long sip of beer before answering. God I love this town....

“Don't I have to be up all night to get.... no, I'm not going to say that.” he shook his head. “What was I thinking? My name's Marc, I wasn't taken, and this evening would fit my schedule perfectly."

He turned back to his friends. "Got to go. I'll leave you guys to your 'pocket billiards'" he said, smiling to himself at a joke they probably wouldn't understand. He offered Lucky his arm and turned to move away from the pool tables with her. He'd been told not to play up to the stereotype too much, but what the hell.... they seemed to expect it of him.

"If I may ask, is Lucky really your preferred name, or your Western name? If you don't mind me asking. It's just that knowing which name you prefer might come in very useful later on."

 

[TheOneThatGotAway]

"Sorry, love…Enjoy your night."

And just like that, with a few simple remarks and pats on her shoulder, the lustful expression Trina held for the British gentleman at the tables, instantly soured into one of utter annoyance. Thanks truly to the pixie at her side, that was much too pleased with herself.

Trina leaned back in her seat in defeat, and watched Lucky take her leave, sashaying her hips over to the pool tables. For as sore of a loser she could be though, she couldn't help but smile. Just a few years ago, the bravado and sass her roommate just exhibited was non-existent. Trina was proud to have been able to help little Naoko come out of her shell, and open up; even though there were times that she wondered if she unleashed a bit of a monster. Times like this, especially, where she wanted nothing more than to fuck the brat out of her best friend. Smug little thing.

She finished off her drink, and continued to watch Lucky and her new friend make their way toward one of the side exits. Hook, line, and sinker… The petite Asian turning one last time to make eye contact with Trina, only to grin mischievously and subtly wave 'bye'. She answered with an arched brow and raised her glass in her direction.

Trina switched to drinking water and stuck around for a few minutes before deciding she was utterly bored, and no one else at the bar piqued her interest. As if on cue, a group of guys, similarly dressed to one another with cocky attitudes to match, flooded past the bar's entrance. She sighed, as she realized this was the usual time that the Corner Tavern got "bro-dozed," and took this as a sign to leave. Dropping cash at the bar, she stood up and made sure to grab her clutch purse.

"'Sup sexay! Ohh yeah…wait, you leavin' so soon?" one of the guys asked.

"Mm, not soon enough! Enjoy your evening boys," and with that backhanded remark, she exited the bar. Douchebags…

Sitting in her driver's seat, she started the car and glanced at the digital display. The night was still ridiculously young…hell, it was in its infancy. Fuck. Remembering she had her gym bag in the trunk, she figured she could head to the gym for a few hours. Burn some calories and excess energy. She should be able to make the last Kickboxing class on the schedule if she left now.

Looked like her evening was going to consist of: The gym, showering, probably ordering Chinese Delivery, and watching back-to-back episodes of Dr. Who (and maybe some porn) until she konked out.